Literature
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The Little Black Boy by William Blake : The Poetry Foundation
My mother bore me in the southern wild, / And I am black, but O! my soul is white; / White as an angel is the English child: / But I am black as if bereav’d of light. Continued… My mother taught me underneath a tree And sitting down before the heat of day, She Read more
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Stars and Strips
LONDON by: William Blake I wander thro’ each charter’d street, Near where the charter’d Thames does flow. And mark in every face I meet of woe. Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every infants cry of fear, In every voice: in every ban, The mind-forged manacles I hear. How Read more
