Treasure Island

William Blake

(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827 / London)

A Little Girl Lost


Children of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime.

In the age of gold,
Free from winter's cold,
Youth and maiden bright,
To the holy light,
Naked in the sunny beams delight.

Once a youthful pair,
Filled with softest care,
Met in garden bright
Where the holy light
Had just removed the curtains of the night.

Then, in rising day,
On the grass they play;
Parents were afar,
Strangers came not near,
And the maiden soon forgot her fear.

Tired with kisses sweet,
They agree to meet
When the silent sleep
Waves o'er heaven's deep,
And the weary tired wanderers weep.

To her father white
Came the maiden bright;
But his loving look,
Like the holy book
All her tender limbs with terror shook.

'Ona, pale and weak,
To thy father speak!
Oh the trembling fear!
Oh the dismal care
That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair!'

Submitted: Wednesday, May 09, 2001

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Read poems about / on: father, fear, future, winter, children, hair, sleep, heaven, light, girl, lost, night, time, love, kiss, child, rose

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  • Nina Aimg (8/5/2014 10:10:00 AM)

    i think the poem points out a thought(a general one perhaps) during a particular era...nice/// (Report) Reply

  • Greenwolfe 1962 (1/6/2008 2:58:00 PM)

    Blake , like all truly great poets, makes his statement in the opening
    verse . That's where the understanding of a poem should be. If it's not
    there , it's not a great poem. Blake is one of the true greats though
    not all of his poems are . He is great because he knows what poetry
    is as an Art . Unfortunately , that cannot be said of most . (Report) Reply

  • Lilah Weiss (5/11/2006 2:59:00 AM)

    Heh, not the best poem, but well written nonetheless. Or maybe I'm fatigued. Suspiration. (Report) Reply

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