The Complete Poetry & Prose of William Blake by William Blake
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Through the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!

The hills tell one another, and the listening
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turnโ€™d
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth
And let thy holy feet visit our clime!

Come oโ€™er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumรจd garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee.

O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languishโ€™d head,
Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee.
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