I have no name: I am but two days old. What shall I call thee? I happy am, Joy is my name. Sweet joy befall thee! – 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