He who binds to himself a joy Does the winged life destroy But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternitys sun rise. – William Blake
Nature in darkness groans and men are bound to sullen contemplation in the night: restless they turn on beds of sorrow; in their inmost brain feeling the crushing wheels, they rise, they write the bitter words of stern philosophy and knead the bread of knowledge with tears and groans. – William Blake