“He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.”

— William Blake

Song (How Sweet I Roamed), st. 4
1780s, Poetical Sketches (1783)

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing, And m…" by William Blake?

William Blake 249

English Romantic poet and artist 1757–1827

Related quotes

“The music game is more than just my love for singing, its a sport for me.”

Keshia Chante (1988) Canadian actor and musician

Inside Entertainment (2008)

“The golden Hours on angel wings
Flew o'er me and my Dearie;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary.”

Robert Burns Highland Mary

Highland Mary, st. 2 (1792)

“When this old world gets me down and there's no love to be found
I close my eyes and soon I find I'm in a playground in my mind
Where the children laugh and the children play
And we sing a song all day.”

Paul Vance (1929) American record producer

Song "Playground In My Mind" (1973)

“These were a part of the playing I heard
Once, ere my love and my heart were at strife;
Love that sings and hath wings as a bird,
Balm of the wound and heft of the knife.”

Algernon Charles Swinburne book Poems and Ballads

Poems and Ballads (1866-89), The Triumph of Time
Context: p>The pulse of war and passion of wonder,
The heavens that murmur, the sounds that shine,
The stars that sing and the loves that thunder,
The music burning at heart like wine,
An armed archangel whose hands raise up
All senses mixed in the spirit's cup
Till flesh and spirit are molten in sunder —
These things are over, and no more mine. These were a part of the playing I heard
Once, ere my love and my heart were at strife;
Love that sings and hath wings as a bird,
Balm of the wound and heft of the knife.
Fairer than earth is the sea, and sleep
Than overwatching of eyes that weep,
Now time has done with his one sweet word,
The wine and leaven of lovely life.</p

“O child! dear child!
Above the clouds I lift my wing
To hear the bells of Heaven ring;
Some of their music, though my flights be wild,
To Earth I bring;
Then let me soar and sing!”

Edmund Clarence Stedman (1833–1908) American poet, critic, and essayist

"The Singer" (1860).

“My whole life stretched out gloriously behind me.”

Stephen Fry (1957) English comedian, actor, writer, presenter, and activist

1990s, Moab is My Washpot (autobiography, 1997)
Context: When I had first caught sight of Matthew I saw the beauty in everything. Now I saw only ugliness and decay. All beauty was in the past. Again and again I wrote in poems, in notes, on scraps of paper. My whole life stretched out gloriously behind me. If I wrote that sick phrase once, I wrote it fifty times. And I believed it, too.