When my mother died I was very young / And my father sold me while yet my tongue / Could scarcely cry `'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!' / So your chimneys I sweep and in soot I sleep.

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Explore More Quotes by William Blake

If a thing loves it is infinite.

If a thing loves it is infinite.

No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings

No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings

Shame is pride's cloak.

Shame is pride's cloak.

The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.

The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.

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