Love to faults is always blind,Always is to joys inclined,Lawless, winged, and unconfined,And breaks all chains from every mind. Poems from Blake's Notebook (1791)
He who binds to himself a joyDoes the wingèd life destroy;But he who kisses the joy as it fliesLives in eternity's sunrise. Poems from Blake's Notebook (1791)
Man was made for joy and woe,And when this we rightly knowThrough the world we safely go.Joy and woe are woven fine,A clothing for the soul divine. Auguries of Innocence (1803)