Eloise O'Neill

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THE ANGEL    I dreamt a dream! What can it mean?    And that I was a maiden Queen    Guarded by an Angel mild:    Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!    And I wept both night and day,    And he wiped my tears away;    And I wept both day and night,    And hid from him my heart's delight.    So he took his wings, and fled;    Then the morn blushed rosy red.    I dried my tears, and armed my fears    With ten-thousand shields and spears.    Soon my Angel came again;    I was armed, he came in vain;    For the time of youth was fled,    And grey hairs were on my head.
Poems of William Blake
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