Page:The Poems of William Blake (Shepherd, 1887).djvu/97

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SKETCHES.
75

"stretch forth your hands, that my helper may
"come! Through the void space I walk between
"the sinful world and eternity! Beneath me burns
"eternal fire! O for a hand to pluck me forth!"
As the voice of an omen heard in the silent valley,
when the few inhabitants cling trembling together;
as the voice of the Angel of Death, when the thin
beams of the moon give a faint light, such was this
young man's voice to his friends! Like the bubbling
waters of the brook in the dead of night, the
aged woman raised her cry, and said, "O voice,
"that dwellest in my breast, can I not cry, and
"lift my eyes to heaven? Thinking of this, my
"spirit is turned within me into confusion! O my
"child, my child! is thy breath infected? so is
"mine. As the deer wounded, by the brooks of
"water, so the arrows of sin stick in my flesh; the
"poison hath entered into my marrow."—Like
rolling waves upon a desert shore, sighs succeeded
sighs; they covered their faces, and wept! The
youth lay silent—his mother's arm was under his
head; he was like a cloud tossed by the winds, till
the sun shine, and the drops of rain glisten, the
yellow harvest breathes, and the thankful eyes of
the villagers are turned up in smiles. The traveller
that hath taken shelter under an oak, eyes the
distant country with joy! Such smiles were seen
upon the face of the youth! a visionary hand
wiped away his tears, and a ray of light beamed