A Poem by William Blake
Awake, awake, my little boy!
Thou wast thy mother’s only joy:
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy Father does thee keep.
“O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O Father, I saw my Mother there,
Among the lilies by waters fair.
Among the lambs, clothed in white
She walk’d with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn –
O! when shall I return again?”
Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wander’d all night in the Land of Dreams;
But tho’ calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.
“Father, O Father! what do we here
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far
Above the light of the morning star.”