Poem William Blake

A re not the joys of morning sweeter

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Are not the joys of morning sweeter
Than the joys of night?
And are the vigrous joys of youth
Ashamed of the light?

Let age & sickness silent rob
The vineyards in the night;
But those who burn with vigrous youth
Pluck fruits before the light.

Gnomic Verses
To Nobodaddy

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