The Clod and the Pebble
'Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a heaven in hell's despair.'
So sung a little clod of clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet;
But a pebble of the brook
Warbled out these meters meet:
'Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a hell in heaven's despite.'
William Blake
Vous avez aimé cette poésie ? faites la connaître !
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,
