William Blake

Infant Sorrow

Songs of Innocence and of Experience

My mother groaned, my father wept:

Into the dangerous world I leapt,

Helpless, naked, piping loud,

Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

 

Struggling in my father’s hands,

Striving against my swaddling bands,

Bound and weary, I thought best

To sulk upon my mother’s breast.