Birth...

Infant Sorrow

My mother groan'd! my father wept.
Into the dangerous world I leapt;
Helpless, naked, piping loud;
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swadling bands,
Bound and weary I thought best
To Sulk upon my mothers's breast.

-William Blake



Infant Joy

"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!

Pretty Joy!
Sweet joy but tow days old,
Sweet joy I call thee;
though dost smile,
I sing the while,
Sweet joy befall thee!

-William Blake