Love and harmony combine
     And around our souls entwine,
     While thy branches mix with mine
     And our roots together join.

     Joys upon our branches sit,
     Chirping loud and singing sweet;
     Like gentle streams beneath our feet,
     Innocence and virtue meet.

     Thou the golden fruit dost bear,
     I am clad in flowers fair;
     Thy sweet boughs perfume the air,
     And the turtle buildeth there.

     There she sits and feeds her young;
     Sweet I hear her mournful song;
     And thy lovely leaves among,
     There is Love:  I hear his tongue.

     There his charmed nest he doth lay,
     There he sleeps the night away,
     There he sports along the day,
     And doth among our branches play.

* * * * *

     THE TWO SONGS

     I heard an Angel singing
     When the day was springing: 
     “Mercy, pity, and peace,
     Are the world’s release.”

     So he sang all day
     Over the new-mown hay,
     Till the sun went down,
     And the haycocks looked brown.

     I heard a devil curse
     Over the heath and the furse: 
     “Mercy could be no more
     If there were nobody poor,

     And pity no more could be
     If all were happy as ye: 
     And mutual fear brings peace. 
     Misery’s increase
     Are mercy, pity, peace.”

     At his curse the sun went down,
     And the heavens gave a frown.

* * * * *

     NIGHT

     From ‘Songs of Innocence’

     The sun descending in the west,
     The evening star does shine,
     The birds are silent in their nest,
     And I must seek for mine. 
     The moon, like a flower
     In heaven’s high bower,
     With silent delight,
     Sits and smiles in the night.

     Farewell, green fields and happy groves
     Where flocks have ta’en delight;
     Where lambs have nibbled, silent move
     The feet of angels bright;
     Unseen they pour blessing,
     And joy without ceasing,
     On each bud and blossom,
     And each sleeping bosom.

     They look in every thoughtless nest,
     Where birds are covered warm;
     They visit caves of every beast,
     To keep them all from harm;
     If they see any weeping
     That should have been sleeping,
     They pour sleep on their head,
     And sit down by their bed.

     When wolves and tigers howl for prey,
     They pitying stand and weep;
     Seeking to drive their thirst away,
     And keep them from the sheep. 
     But if they rush dreadful,
     The angels most heedful
     Receive each wild spirit,
     New worlds to inherit.