William Blake

SONGS OF EXPERIENCE
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The Little Girl Found

 All the night in woe,
 Lyca's parents go:
 Over vallies deep,
 While the desarts weep.
 
 Tired and woe-begone,
 Hoarse with making moan:
 Arm in arm seven days,
 They trac'd the desart ways.
 
 Seven nights they sleep,
 Among shadows deep:
 And dream they see their child
 Starved in desart wild.
 
 Pale thro' pathless ways
 The fancied image strays,
 
 Famish'd, weeping, weak
 With hollow piteous shriek
 
 Rising from unrest,
 The trembling woman prest
 With feet of weary woe;
 She could no further go.
 
 In his arms he bore,
 Her arm'd with sorrow sore;
 Till before their way,
 A couching lion lay.
 
 Turning back was vain,
 Soon his heavy mane,
 Bore them to the ground;
 Then he stalk'd around,
 
 Smelling to his prey.
 But their fears allay,
 When he licks their hands;
 And silent by them stands.
 
 They look upon his eyes
 Fill'd with deep surprise
 And wondering behold,
 A spirit arm'd in gold.
 
 On his head a crown
 On his shoulders down,
 Flow'd his golden hair.
 Gone was all their care.
 
 Follow me he said,
 Weep not for the maid;
 In my palace deep,
 Lyca lies asleep.
 
 Then they followed,
 Where the vision led:
 And saw their sleeping child
 Among tygers wild.
 
 To this day they dwell
 In a lonely dell
 Nor fear the wolvish howl,
 Nor the lions growl.