Sweet Sir Buckley

William Blake

Sensual fragrances of musk,

Dusty fox of darkness til dusk,

Oh creature of the night,

On the prowl to find delight?

Know ye not what lies bellow?

Know better than this,

T’is no better that ye should know.

When all thee shed is but a tear,

From what thou doth flee,

May free thine only lonely fear.

Ye would sell soul to buy suck and fuck,

But after thou hath grazed another,

Thine heart still craves for thy lover.

Somebody to uncover caress,

Somebody to collect and unfold,

When never did thee each other undress,

And neither did thee each other hold,

Then why should love be silent here,

Here where there is much to hear?

Thy shadow I hear sail and sink,

Whilst looking for a pier to cling,

Then river banks begin to sing,

Oh Lover come over here,

My sweet Sir Buckley dear.”

Blues river will behold you near,

When only one God you wilt fear.

For when spilt wild blood,

Streamed my necks nape,

Me thoughts of thoughts

– His soil – His corpus…

…Me thoughts…

…they thought of no escape…

And then there he stood evoked,

So naked and exited,

Behind lives of breaths departed,

He told me he hath waited,

For she who hath forsaken it,

For all of us have hurt thus,

When once upon a time,

We all lived in hatred.

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