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A Cradle Song is the 10th chapter of Inheritance. It takes the point of view of Eragon.

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  • A Cradle Song
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  • A Cradle Song is the 10th chapter of Inheritance. It takes the point of view of Eragon.
  • "A Cradle Song" is a poem by the English poet William Blake. It was retrieved from The Note-Book of c.1793 and was probably intended for "Songs of Experience", since there is a poem with the same title in "Songs of Innocence", however it was not engraved or included into the cycle, but left in a very rough sketchy manuscript. There are some divergences as to what those verses actually are. Along que one quoted by Bertram, the following versions were found: Follows the one that contains the version actually quoted by Bertram.
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abstract
  • A Cradle Song is the 10th chapter of Inheritance. It takes the point of view of Eragon.
  • "A Cradle Song" is a poem by the English poet William Blake. It was retrieved from The Note-Book of c.1793 and was probably intended for "Songs of Experience", since there is a poem with the same title in "Songs of Innocence", however it was not engraved or included into the cycle, but left in a very rough sketchy manuscript. The verses "When thy little heart doth wake, Then the dreadful night shall break." were quoted by director Gale Bertram at the end of the episode where Madeleine Hightower barely escapes with Jane's help. The random quote leaves Lisbon and LaRoche with puzzled faces until LaRoche identifies the verses as being from William Blake. There are some divergences as to what those verses actually are. Along que one quoted by Bertram, the following versions were found: * "When thy little heart doth wake, Then the dreadful lightnings break." * "When thy little heart doth wake, Then the dreadful light shall break." Follows the one that contains the version actually quoted by Bertram. Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,Dreaming in the joys of night;Sleep, sleep; in thy sleepLittle sorrows sit and weep. Sweet babe, in thy faceSoft desires I can trace,Secret joys and secret smiles,Little pretty infant wiles.As thy softest limbs I feelSmiles as of the morning stealO'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breastWhere thy little heart doth rest. O the cunning wiles that creepIn thy little heart asleep!When thy little heart doth wake,Then the dreadful night shall break.
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