Poems by William BlakeSweet dreams form a shade,
O'er my lovely infants head.
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,
By happy silent moony beams
Cruelty has a human heart,
And Jealousy a human face;
Terror the human form divine,
And Secresy the human dress.
Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.
v'Nought loves another as itself,
Nor venerates another so,
Nor is it possible to thought
A greater than itself to know.
Children of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime.
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
Sweet dreams, form a shade
O'er my lovely infant's head!
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams
By happy, silent, moony beams!
Prepare, prepare the iron helm of war,
Bring forth the lots, cast in the spacious orb;
Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Merry, merry sparrow!
Under leaves so green
A happy blossom
Sees you, swift as arrow,
Seek your cradle narrow,
Near my bosom.
THEL'S MOTTO
1Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
2Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?
CHAPTER 1
Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific,
Self-clos'd, all-repelling: what demon
MY Spectre around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way;
My Emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.
But in the Wine-presses the human grapes sing not nor dance:
"Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,
Dreaming in the joys of night;
Sleep, sleep; in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit and weep.
The Maiden caught me in the wild,
Where I was dancing merrily;
She put me into her Cabinet,
And lock'd me up with a golden key.
The Sun arises in the East,
Cloth'd in robes of blood and gold;
Swords and spears and wrath increast
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love,
All pray in their distress,
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
Earth raised up her head
From the darkness dread and drear,
Her light fled,
Stony, dread,
The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies;
The merry bells ring
To welcome the spring;
The skylark and thrush,
England! awake! awake! awake!
Jerusalem thy Sister calls!
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sun rise.
The bell struck one, and shook the silent tower;
The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor
Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
1.1"What is the price of Experience? do men buy it for a song?
84Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.
"I die, I die!" the Mother said,
"My children die for lack of bread.
What more has the merciless Tyrant said?"
Come, kings, and listen to my song:
When Gwin, the son of Nore,
Over the nations of the North
His cruel sceptre bore;
HEAR the voice of the Bard,
Who present, past, and future, sees;
Whose ears have heard
The Holy Word
Hear the voice of the Bard !
Who present, past, and future sees;
Whose ears have heard
The Holy Word,
'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
Came children walking two and two, in read, and blue, and green:
Is this a holy thing to see.
In a rich and fruitful land.
Babes reduced to misery.
Fed with cold and usurous hand?
Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean
The children walking two & two in red & blue & green
How sweet I roam'd from field to field,
And tasted all the summer's pride
'Til the prince of love beheld
I heard an Angel singing
When the day was springing,
'Mercy, Pity, Peace
Is the world's release.'
Thus he sung all day
I rose up at the dawn of day--
`Get thee away! get thee away!
Pray'st thou for riches? Away! away!
I saw a chapel all of gold
That none did dare to enter in,
And many weeping stood without,
Weeping, mourning, worshipping.
I see the Four-fold Man, The Humanity in deadly sleep
And its fallen Emanation, the Spectre and its cruel Shadow.
If it is true, what the Prophets write,
That the heathen gods are all stocks and stones,
'I have no name;
I am but two days old.'
What shall I call thee?
'I happy am,
Joy is my name.'
Sweet joy befall thee!
My mother groaned, my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt;
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Hear the voice of the Bard,
Who present, past, and future, sees;
Whose ears have heard
The Holy Word
Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
England! awake! awake! awake!
Jerusalem thy Sister calls!
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death
I see the Four-fold Man, The Humanity in deadly sleep
And its fallen Emanation, the Spectre and its cruel Shadow.
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Awake, awake, my little boy!
Thou wast thy mother's only joy;
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And Iam black, but oh my soul is white!
White as an angel is the English child,
The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wandering light,
Began to cry, but God, ever nigh,
"Father, father, where are you going?
Oh do not walk so fast!
Speak, father, speak to you little boy,
Or else I shall be lost."
Dear mother, dear mother, the church is cold,
But the ale-house is healthy and pleasant and warm;
I wandered through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
A mark in every face I meet,
Love and harmony combine,
And round our souls entwine
While thy branches mix with mine,
And our roots together join.
The wild winds weep
And the night is a-cold;
Come hither, Sleep,
And my griefs infold:
But lo! the morning peeps
The Argument.
Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burdend air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
But in the Wine-presses the human grapes sing not nor dance:
The sky is an immortal tent built by the Sons of Los:
And every space that a man views around his dwelling-place
Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau;
Mock on, mock on; 'tis all in vain!
You throw the sand against the wind,
A flower was offered to me,
Such a flower as May never bore;
But I said 'I've a pretty rose tree,'
My spectre around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way.
My emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.
i
My spectre around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way;
My Emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.
Never seek to tell thy love
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
The sun descending in the west,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest,
And I must seek for mine.
`Now Art has lost its mental charms
France shall subdue the world in arms.'
So spoke an Angel at my birth;
When voices of children are heard on the green
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast
Can I see another's woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another's grief,
And not seek for kind relief?
Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:
The shadowy Daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc,
When fourteen suns had faintly journey'd o'er his dark abode:
The nameless shadowy female rose from out the breast of Orc,
Her snaky hair brandishing in the winds of Enitharmon;
In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.
Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of the dead.
What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of gratified Desire.
What is it women do in men require?
Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:
Samson, the strongest of the children of men, I sing; how he was foiled by woman's arts, by a false wife brought to the gates o
I love to rise in a summer morn
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of Gratified Desire.
What is it women do in men require?
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
Silent, silent night,
Quench the holy light
Of thy torches bright;
For possessed of Day
Thousand spirits stray
Sleep! sleep! beauty bright,
Dreaming o'er the joys of night;
Sleep! sleep! in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit and weep.
My silks and fine array,
My smiles and languish'd air,
By love are driv'n away;
And mournful lean Despair
Memory, hither come,
And tune your merry notes;
And, while upon the wind
Your music floats,
I'll pore upon the stream
Hear the voice of the Bard!
Who Present, Past, & Future sees
Whose ears have heard
The Holy Word,
Piping down the valleys wild
Piping songs of pleasant glee
On a cloud I saw a child.
And he laughing said to me.
I dreamt a dream!What can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen
Guarded by an Angel mild:
Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!
The Angel that presided o'er my birth
Said, "Little creature, form'd of Joy and Mirth,
He. Where thou dwellest, in what grove,
Tell me Fair One, tell me Love;
Where thou thy charming nest dost build,
Merry, merry sparrow!
Under leaves so green
A happy blossom
Sees you, swift as arrow,
Seek your cradle narrow,
Near my bosom.
1Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
2Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?
3Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific,
Self-clos'd, all-repelling: what demon
1. Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific!
Self-closd, all-repelling: what Demon
1. The voice ended, they saw his pale visage
Emerge from the darkness; his hand
On the rock of eternity unclasping
a
1. Los smitten with astonishment
Frightend at the hurtling bones
2. And at the surging sulphureous
1. Then the Inhabitants of those Cities:
Felt their Nerves change into Marrow
And hardening Bones began
When Klopstock England defied,
Uprose William Blake in his pride;
For old Nobodaddy aloft
. . . and belch'd and cough'd;
Why should I care for the men of thames
Or the cheating waves of charter'd streams
Or shrink at the little blasts of fear
Why was Cupid a boy,
And why a boy was he?
He should have been a girl,
For aught that I can see.
For he shoots with his bow,
As I wandered the forest,
The green leaves among,
I heard a Wild Flower
Singing a song.
"I slept in the earth
You don't believe -- I won't attempt to make ye:
You are asleep -- I won't attempt to wake ye.
