English poet & painter (1757-1827)
The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels and God, and at liberty when of Devils and Hell, is because he was a true poet and of the Devils' party without knowing it.
WILLIAM BLAKE
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"The Voice of the Devil", The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
The Goddess Fortune is the devil's servant, ready to kiss anyone's arse.
WILLIAM BLAKE
"The Goddess Fortune", Notes on Illustrations to Dante
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart;
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears--
Ah, she doth depart.
WILLIAM BLAKE
"Never Seek to Tell", Poems from Blake's Notebook
No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.
WILLIAM BLAKE
Proverbs of Hell
And I made a rural pen,
And I stained the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
Every child may joy to hear.
WILLIAM BLAKE
introduction, Songs of Innocence
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,
Dreaming o'er the joys of night.
Sleep, sleep: in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit and weep.
WILLIAM BLAKE
"A Cradle Song", Poems from Blake's Notebook
But most, thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new born Infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.
WILLIAM BLAKE
"London", Songs of Experience
For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity, a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
WILLIAM BLAKE
"The Divine Image", Songs of Innocence
Without Time's swiftness, which is the swiftest of all things, all were eternal torment.
WILLIAM BLAKE
Milton
The moon like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight,
Sits and smiles on the night.
WILLIAM BLAKE
"Night"
Reason, or the ratio of all we have already known, is not the same that it shall be when we know more.
WILLIAM BLAKE
There is No Natural Religion
How have you left the ancient love
That bards of old enjoyed in you!
The languid strings do scarcely move!
The sound is forced, the notes are few!
WILLIAM BLAKE
"To the Muses", Poetical Sketches
Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.
WILLIAM BLAKE
Proverbs of Hell
How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot!
From the morn to the evening he stays;
He shall follow his sheep all the day,
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.
For he hears the lambs' innocent call,
And he hears the ewes' tender reply;
He is watching while they are in peace,
For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.
WILLIAM BLAKE
"The Shepherd", Songs of Innocence
It is an easy thing to triumph in the summer's sun,
And in the harvest to sing on the wagon loaded with corn.
It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted,
To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wanderer,
To listen to the hungry raven's cry in the winter season,
When the red blood is filled with wine and with the marrow of lambs.
WILLIAM BLAKE
Vala
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green & pleasant land.
WILLIAM BLAKE
"Prefatory Poem", Milton
Every night, and every morn,
Some to misery are born.
Every morn, and every night,
Some are born to sweet delight.
WILLIAM BLAKE
Auguries of Innocence
Hear the voice of the Bard,
Who present, past, and future, sees;
Whose ears have heard
The Holy Word
That walked among the ancient trees.
WILLIAM BLAKE
introduction, Songs of Experience
O thou who passest through our valleys in
Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer,
Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft
Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
WILLIAM BLAKE
"To Summer"
England! awake! awake! awake!
Jerusalem thy sister calls!
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death
And close her from thy ancient walls?
WILLIAM BLAKE
Jerusalem