William Blake

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
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O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou mayest rest
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

I have mental joys and mental health,
Mental friends and mental wealth,
I've a wife that I read more

I have mental joys and mental health,
Mental friends and mental wealth,
I've a wife that I love and that loves me;
I've all but riches bodily.

Excess of sorrow laughs, excess of joy weeps.

Excess of sorrow laughs, excess of joy weeps.

But to go to school in a summer morn,
Oh, it drives all joy away!
Under a read more

But to go to school in a summer morn,
Oh, it drives all joy away!
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day--
In sighing and dismay.

I rose up at the dawn of day,--
"Get thee away! get thee away!
Pray'st thou for read more

I rose up at the dawn of day,--
"Get thee away! get thee away!
Pray'st thou for riches? Away, away!
This is the throne of Mammon grey."