Oh Rose, thou art sick!
Oh Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
in the howling storm
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy.
And with his dark secret love,
does thy life destroy.
--William Blake
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Wednesday, September 20, 2006 WHEN I AM DEPRESSED, THIS POEM CHEERS ME UP. WHY IS THAT? Oh Rose, thou art sick!
Oh Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm That flies in the night, in the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy. And with his dark secret love, does thy life destroy. --William Blake |
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