Poem William Blake

If men will act like a maid smiling over a churn

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If men will act like a maid smiling over a churn,
They ought not, when it comes to another’s turn,
To grow sour at what a friend may utter,
Knowing and feeling that we all have need of Butter.
False Friends, fie I fie! Our Friendship you shan’t sever;
In spite we will be greater friends than ever.

Call that the Public Voice which is their Error?
Having given great offence by writing in Prose

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