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William Blake - A Little Boy LostWilliam Blake - A Little Boy Lost
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"Nought loves another as itself,   Nor venerates another so, Nor is it possible to thought   A greater than itself to know. "And, father, how can I love you   Or any of my brothers more? I love you like the little bird   That picks up crumbs around the door." The Priest sat by and heard the child;   In trembling zeal he seized his hair, He led him by his little coat,   And all admired the priestly care. And standing on the altar high,   "Lo, what a fiend is here! said he: "One who sets reason up for judge   Of our most holy mystery." The weeping child could not be heard,   The weeping parents wept in vain: They stripped him to his little shirt,   And bound him in an iron chain, And burned him in a holy place   Where many had been burned before; The weeping parents wept in vain.   Are such thing done on Albion`s shore?
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