Improvement makes strait roads, but the crooked roads without Improvement, are roads of Genius. - William Blake

I asked a thief to steal me a peach:
He turned up his eyes.
I asked a lithe lady to lie her down:
Holy and meek, she cries. As soon as I went
An angel came.
He winked at the thief
And smiled at the dame— And without one word said
Had a peach from the tree,
And still as a maid
Enjoyed the lady.

Exuberance is beauty.

Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night