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Title: A Little Boy Lost
Author: William Blake [ More Titles by Blake]
"Nought loves another as itself, Nor venerates another so, Nor is it possible to thought A greater than itself to know. "And, father, how can I love you Or any of my brothers more? I love you like the little bird That picks up crumbs around the door." The Priest sat by and heard the child; In trembling zeal he seized his hair, He led him by his little coat, And all admired the priestly care. And standing on the altar high, "Lo, what a fiend is here! said he: "One who sets reason up for judge Of our most holy mystery." The weeping child could not be heard, The weeping parents wept in vain: They stripped him to his little shirt, And bound him in an iron chain, And burned him in a holy place Where many had been burned before; The weeping parents wept in vain. Are such thing done on Albion's shore?
-THE END- William Blake's poem: A Little Boy Lost ________________________________________________
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