Poems (Blake)/Singing and Sighing
SINGING AND SIGHING.
When my heart was singing All the world sang too, Merry laughed the greenwood, And the skies were blue;In and out, round about, through the tasseled corn,Golden bees, on the breeze, flew to chase the morn, And adown the hill-side, Through the rocky glen, Every rippling streamlet Danced and laughed again, When my heart was singing.
When my heart was sighing All the world was gray, Cloud and moaning breezes Hid the light away;Gaunt and bare, through the air, rose the barren hill,Loud and clear, rising near, piped the locust shrill, And the gloom without us Seemed to find a rest In the gathering shadows Hidden in my breast, When my heart was sighing.
Between song and sighing Not a day had flown, Not a change had fallen Save on me alone;Shade or light, dark or bright, from my spirit stillCame the bloom, came the gloom, painting good or ill; So through all the seasons, Every day departs, Painted with the changes Of our changing hearts, Sighing thus, or singing.