by William Blake
O holy virgin! clad in purest white,
Unlock heaven’s golden gates, and issue forth!
Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven; let light
Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring
The honied dew that cometh on waking day.
O radiant morning, salute the sun,
Rouz’d like a huntsman to the chace, and, with
Thy buskin’d feet, appear upon our hills.