The Poems of William BlakeBasil Montagu Pickering, 1874 - 165 ˹éÒ |
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˹éÒ 7
... clouds strew flowers round her head . " The spirits of the air live on the smells " Of fruit ; and joy , with pinions light , roves round " The gardens , or sits singing in the trees . " Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat ; Then rose ...
... clouds strew flowers round her head . " The spirits of the air live on the smells " Of fruit ; and joy , with pinions light , roves round " The gardens , or sits singing in the trees . " Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat ; Then rose ...
˹éÒ 18
... cloud With howling woe , After night I do crowd And with night will go ; I turn my back to the east From whence comforts have increased ; For light doth seize my brain With frantic pain . SONG . RESH from the dewy hill , the merry year ...
... cloud With howling woe , After night I do crowd And with night will go ; I turn my back to the east From whence comforts have increased ; For light doth seize my brain With frantic pain . SONG . RESH from the dewy hill , the merry year ...
˹éÒ 21
... . Gordred the giant roused himself From sleeping in his cave ; He shook the hills , and in the clouds The troubled banners wave . Beneath them roli'd , like tempests black , The numerous SKETCHES . 21 GWIN, KING OF NORWAY.
... . Gordred the giant roused himself From sleeping in his cave ; He shook the hills , and in the clouds The troubled banners wave . Beneath them roli'd , like tempests black , The numerous SKETCHES . 21 GWIN, KING OF NORWAY.
˹éÒ 22
... clouds , come rolling o'er ! " Gwin rear'd his shield , his palace shakes , His chiefs come rushing round ; Each , like an awful thunder - cloud With voice of solemn sound : Like reared stones around a grave They stand around the 22 ...
... clouds , come rolling o'er ! " Gwin rear'd his shield , his palace shakes , His chiefs come rushing round ; Each , like an awful thunder - cloud With voice of solemn sound : Like reared stones around a grave They stand around the 22 ...
˹éÒ 23
... clouds around him roll'd . Gwin lifts his hand - the nations halt ; " Prepare for war , " he cries- Gordred appears ! -his frowning brow Troubles our northern skies . The armies stand , like balances Held in the Almighty's SKETCHES . 23.
... clouds around him roll'd . Gwin lifts his hand - the nations halt ; " Prepare for war , " he cries- Gordred appears ! -his frowning brow Troubles our northern skies . The armies stand , like balances Held in the Almighty's SKETCHES . 23.
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Albion's angel arm'd arms AUDLEY babe battle beams beneath Blake Blake's blood blossoms bosom breast bright brow Chandos child clouds cover'd cries dance dark death delight dost doth earth echoing green England eyes face fair father fear feet field fight fill'd fire fled flower frowning fruit gold golden grave green groan Gwin hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills holy Holy Thursday howling infant Jerusalem lamb Lamb of God land laugh LAUGHING SONG light lion LITTLE BOY LOST Lord Percy Lyca maiden Mary merry morning mother never night o'er pale pipe pity pleasant poems Prince QUEEN PHILIPPA round shine shore sigh silent sing sleep smile SONGS OF EXPERIENCE Songs of Innocence sorrow soul summer sweet sword tears thee thine thro tree trembling voice walk weep wept wild William William Blake William Bond wind wings youth
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˹éÒ 161 - Bring me my bow of burning gold! Bring me my arrows of desire! Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire! I will not cease from mental fight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land.
˹éÒ 146 - Shudders hell thro' all its regions. A dog starv'd at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state. A horse misused upon the road Calls to heaven for human blood. Each outcry of the hunted hare A fibre from the brain does tear. A skylark wounded in the wing, A cherubim does cease to sing. The game-cock dipt and arm'd for fight Does the rising sun affright.
˹éÒ 91 - And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love ; And these black bodies and this sunburnt face Are but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
˹éÒ 87 - 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 115 - 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...
˹éÒ 116 - Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee?
˹éÒ 105 - No, no! never can it be! Never, never can it be! And can He who smiles on all Hear the wren with sorrows small, Hear the small bird's grief and care, Hear the woes that infants...
˹éÒ 89 - 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 ; Gave thee clothing of delight, 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 lamb, I'll tell thee, Little lamb, I'll tell thee. He is called...
˹éÒ 145 - To see a World in a grain of sand, And a Heaven in a wild flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, And Eternity in an hour. A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all Heaven in a rage.
˹éÒ 112 - The Sick Rose 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, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.