The School Boy - William Blake

The School Boy by William Blake
I love to rise in a summer morn,
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the sky-lark sings with me
O! what sweet company
But to go to school in a summer morn,
O! it drives all joy away;
Under a cruel eye outworn
The little ones spend the day,
In sighing and dismay
Ah! then at times I drooping sit,
And spend many an anxious hour,
Nor in my book can I take delight,
Nor sit in learnings bower,
Worn thro' with the dreary shower
How can the bird that is born for joy,
Sit in a cage and sing
How can a child when fears annoy
But droop his tender wing
And forget his youthful spring
O! father & mother if buds are nip'd,
And blossoms blown away,
And if the tender plants are strip'd
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care's dismay
How shall the summer arise in joy
Or the summer fruits appear
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy
Or bless the mellowing year
When the blasts of winter appear