William Blake

Can a mother sit and hear,
10An infant groan an infant fear
No no never can it be.
Never never can it be.

And can he who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
15Hear the small birds grief & care
Hear the woes that infants bear—

And not sit beside the nest
Pouring pity in their breast,
And not sit the cradle near
Weeping tear on infants tear.

And not sit both night & day,
Wiping all our tears away.
O! no never can it be.
Never never can it be.