Week 4 (Plunderverse)

Holy Thursday, by William Blake

'Twas on a holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
The children walking two and two in red and blue and green:
Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames waters flow.

O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town!
Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own.
The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.

Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among:
Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor.
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.

Source
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Holy, their innocent faces,
Children walking, two in red and blue and green:
Beadles walked before, wands white as snow,
High dome, they like waters flow.

A multitude they seemed, flowers of London town!
Companies sit, radiance their own.
Hum of multitudes there, multitudes of lambs,
Little boys and girls, innocent hands.

A wind to heaven, the voice of song,
Thunderings seats among:
The aged men, guardians of poor.
Pity, you drive an angel from your door.