“Infant Sorrow” by William Blake My mother groand! my father wept. Into the dangerous world I leapt, Helpless, naked, piping loud; Like a fiend hid in a cloud. Struggling in my father’s hands, Striving against my swaddling bands; Bound and weary, I thought best To sulk upon my mother’s breast. Which stereotype is not supported in “Infant Sorrow”? the joy of new life the acceptance of one’s destiny a child’s love for its parents