Gateway to the Classics: Display Item
William Blake

Ah! Sun-flower

Ah sun-flower! weary of time,

Who countest the steps of the sun;

Seeking after that sweet golden clime

Where the traveller's journey is done;


Where the Youth pined away with desire,

And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,

Arise from their graves, and aspire

Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.