Poems of William Blake

 The angel

 I dreamt a dream!  What can it mean? 
 And that I was a maiden Queen
 Guarded by an Angel mild: 
 Witless woe was ne’er beguiled!

 And I wept both night and day,
 And he wiped my tears away;
 And I wept both day and night,
 And hid from him my heart’s delight.

 So he took his wings, and fled;
 Then the morn blushed rosy red. 
 I dried my tears, and armed my fears
 With ten-thousand shields and spears.

 Soon my Angel came again;
 I was armed, he came in vain;
 For the time of youth was fled,
 And grey hairs were on my head.