The Chimney Sweeper
A little black thing in the snow,
Crying 'weep! weep!' in notes of woe!
'Where are thy father and mother? Say!'--
'They are both gone up to the church to pray.
'Because I was happy upon the heath,
And smiled among the winter's snow,
They clothed me in the clothes of death,
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.
'And because I am happy and dance and sing,
They think they have done me no injury,
And are gone to praise God and his priest and king,
Who make up a heaven of our misery.'
William Blake
D'autres poésies de William Blake
A Cradle Song
Sweet dreams form a shade,
O'er my lovely infants head.
A Divine Image
Cruelty has a human heart,
And Jealousy a human...
A Dream
Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded...
A Little Boy Lost
v'Nought loves another as itself,
Nor venerates another...
A Little Girl Lost
Children of the future age,
Reading this indignant...
A Poison Tree
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did...
A Song
Sweet dreams, form a shade
O'er my lovely infant's...
A War Song to Englishmen
Prepare, prepare the iron helm of war,
Bring forth the...
Ah Sunflower
Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of...
Ah! Sunflower
Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of...
Précédentes poésies
your little voice...
your little voice
Over the wires came leaping
and i...
youful
youful
larger
of smallish)
Humble...
you shall above all things...
you shall above all things be glad and young
For if you're...
you said Is
you said Is
there anything which
is dead or alive...
you being in love...
you being in love
will tell who softly asks in love,

