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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=38366" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Holy Thursday</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=38366" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Is this a holy thing to see<br>In a rich and fruitful land,<br>Babes reduced to misery<br>Fed with cold and usurous hand?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=38366" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Is that trembling cry a song?<br>Can it be a song of joy?<br>And so many children poor?<br>It is a land of poverty!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=38366" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And their sun does never shine.<br>And their fields are bleak & bare.<br>And their ways are fill'd with thorns.<br>It is eternal winter there.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=38366" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">For where-e’er the sun does shine,<br>And where-e’er the rain does fall:<br>Babe can never hunger there,<br>Nor poverty the mind appall.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=William+Blake">William Blake</a></strong> from <em><a href="http://sources.citatepedia.com/from.php?a=William+Blake&d=Songs+of+Experience">Songs of Experience</a></em></div>

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