Songs of Innocence and Experience: with Other PoemsBasil Montagu Pickering, 1866 - 108 ˹éÒ |
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... 'd from my sight ; And I pluck'd a hollow reed , And I made a rural pen , And I stain'd the water clear , And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear . H THE SHEPHERD . OW sweet is the shepherd's sweet 4 SONGS OF.
... 'd from my sight ; And I pluck'd a hollow reed , And I made a rural pen , And I stain'd the water clear , And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear . H THE SHEPHERD . OW sweet is the shepherd's sweet 4 SONGS OF.
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with Other Poems William Blake. H THE SHEPHERD . OW sweet is the shepherd's sweet lot ; From the morn to the evening he strays ; He shall follow his sheep all the day , And his tongue shall be filled with praise . For he hears the lamb's ...
with Other Poems William Blake. H THE SHEPHERD . OW sweet is the shepherd's sweet lot ; From the morn to the evening he strays ; He shall follow his sheep all the day , And his tongue shall be filled with praise . For he hears the lamb's ...
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... Sweet dreams of pleasant streams By happy , silent , moony beams . Sweet sleep , with soft down Weave thy brows an infant crown . Sweet sleep , angel mild , Hover o'er my happy child . Sweet smiles in the night Hover over my delight ; Sweet ...
... Sweet dreams of pleasant streams By happy , silent , moony beams . Sweet sleep , with soft down Weave thy brows an infant crown . Sweet sleep , angel mild , Hover o'er my happy child . Sweet smiles in the night Hover over my delight ; Sweet ...
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... Sweet babe , in thy face Holy image I can trace . Sweet babe , once like thee Thy Maker lay and wept for me . Wept for me , for thee , for all When He was an infant small . Thou His image ever see , Heavenly face that smiles on thee ...
... Sweet babe , in thy face Holy image I can trace . Sweet babe , once like thee Thy Maker lay and wept for me . Wept for me , for thee , for all When He was an infant small . Thou His image ever see , Heavenly face that smiles on thee ...
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... Little boy , Full of joy ; Little girl , Sweet and small ; Cock does crow , So do you . Merry voice , Infant noise , Merrily , merrily , to welcome in the year . E Little lamb , Here I am ; Come and lick INNOCENCE . 25 25 Spring.
... Little boy , Full of joy ; Little girl , Sweet and small ; Cock does crow , So do you . Merry voice , Infant noise , Merrily , merrily , to welcome in the year . E Little lamb , Here I am ; Come and lick INNOCENCE . 25 25 Spring.
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admirably angel appear babe beauty becomes Bell bind birds Blake blossoms bore born bright called child Cloth cloud cold dark death deep delight devil divine dread Dreams edition Engraved Title EXPERIENCE eyes face fairy father fear feet fill'd fire flower Frontispiece frowning fruit garden gives gold golden grave green grief hair hand happy head hear heart heaven holy human infant John lamb land laugh light little boy live LOST Lyca maiden Mary merry mild morning mother never night o'er pale peace PICKERING pipe pity play pleasant poems poor Portrait pretty printed rise round seek shine sigh sing sleep smiles soft Songs of Innocence soon sorrow soul spring sweet tears tender thee thou thought Till tree trembling uncut voice vols wandering weep wept wild young youth
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˹éÒ 6 - I'll tell thee: He is called by thy name, For He calls Himself a Lamb. He is meek, and He is mild; He became a little child. I a child, and thou a lamb, We are called by His name. Little Lamb, God bless thee!
˹éÒ 20 - THE sun descending in the west, The evening star does shine ; The birds are silent in their nest, And I must seek for mine. The moon, like a flower In heaven's high bower, With silent delight, Sits and smiles on the night.
˹éÒ 63 - I wander thro' each charter'd street Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear: How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls, And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls; But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear.
˹éÒ 1 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me : — ' Pipe a song about a lamb :
˹éÒ 48 - I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turned to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore.
˹éÒ 5 - Softest clothing, woolly, bright ; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little lamb, who made thee ? Dost thou know who made thee ? Little...
˹éÒ 51 - TIGER, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry ? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes ? On what wings dare he aspire ? What the hand dare seize the fire ? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
˹éÒ 52 - Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee?
˹éÒ 18 - Thames waters flow. O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town! Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own. The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands. Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among: Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
˹éÒ 105 - The door of death is made of gold, That mortal eyes cannot behold ; But when the mortal eyes are closed, And cold and pale the limbs reposed, The soul awakes, and wondering sees In her mild hand the golden keys.