Ah, sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done.
Who countest the steps of the sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done.
In see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
Ps: sobre poema de william blake
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