Infant Sorrow

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Title:     Infant Sorrow
Author: William Blake [More Titles by Blake]

My mother groaned, 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.

-THE END-
William Blake's poem: Infant Sorrow

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