How Sweet I Roam'd Field to Field

How sweet I roam'd from field to field,
And tasted all the summer's pride
'Til the prince of love beheld
Who in the sunny beams did glide!

He shew'd me lilies for my hair
And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his garden fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.

With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage
He caught me in his silken net,
And shut me in his golden cage.

He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.

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Volsebnik's picture

Amayzing fact about this poem is that Blake wrote this before he was 14years old! Blakes early genious appears clearly here as he features both a mix of genital sexuality and cultural references as agents to represent repression and means of expression as a hormon-driven youth.

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