Read the poem. “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.
What is the infant’s final reaction to his plight?

The infant struggles in his father’s hands.

The infant surrenders to weariness.

The infant strives to get out of his swaddling bands.

The infant shrieks in agony.