The Angel - By William Blake

I dreamt a dream!  What can it mean?
   And that I was a maiden Queen
   Guarded by an Angel mild:
   Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!

   And I wept both night and day,
   And he wiped my tears away;
   And I wept both day and night,
   And hid from him my heart's delight.

   So he took his wings, and fled;
   Then the morn blushed rosy red.
   I dried my tears, and armed my fears
   With ten-thousand shields and spears.

   Soon my Angel came again;
   I was armed, he came in vain;
   For the time of youth was fled,
   And grey hairs were on my head.