William Blake
Songs of Experience The Human Abstract A Poison Tree

Infant Sorrow

 

My mother groan’d, my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt;
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

 

Struggling in my father’s hands,
Striving against my swaddling-bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother’s breast.