To Tirzah by William Blake
Whate'er is Born of Mortal Birth, Must be consumed with the Earth To rise from Generation free: Then what have I to do with thee?
The Sexes sprung from Shame & Pride Blowd in the morn; in evening died But Mercy changed Death into Sleep; The Sexes rose to work & weep.
Thou Mother of my Mortal part. With cruelty didst mould my Heart. And with false self-deceiving tears. Didst blind my Nostrils Eyes & Ears
Didst close my Tongue in senseless clay And me to Mortal Life betray: The Death of Jesus set me free. Then what have I to do with thee?
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