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Mad Song lyrics
Text : William Blake
The wild winds weep
and the night is a-cold;
Come hither, sleep,
and my griefs infold :
but lo ! The morning peeps
ove the eastern steeps,
and the rustling birds of dawn
the earth do scorn.
Lo ! To the vault
of paved heaven,
with sorrow fraught
my notes are driven :
they strike the ear of night,
make weep the eyes of day ;
They make mad the roaring winds,
and with tempests play.
Like a fiend in a cloud,
with howling woe,
after night I do crowd,
and with night will go;
I turn back to the easat,
from whence comforts have increa´d;
For light doth seize my brain with frantic pain.
Part of these releases
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- Track 8 on Madcap's Flaming Duty
- 7 Lake of Pontchartrain
- 9 One Hour of Madness
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Benjamin
for submitting the lyrics.
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