The Poems: With Specimens of the Prose Writings, of William BlakeW. Scott, limited, 1885 - 282 หน้า This book collects Blake's famous and unique writings along with a biographical and critical introduction. |
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ผลการค้นหา 6 - 10 จาก 20
หน้า 54
... Beneath the oaken tree , Where all the old villagers meet , And laugh our sports to see . I love our neighbours all— But , Kitty , I better love thee ; And love them I ever shall , But thou art all to me . SONG . MEMORY , hither come ...
... Beneath the oaken tree , Where all the old villagers meet , And laugh our sports to see . I love our neighbours all— But , Kitty , I better love thee ; And love them I ever shall , But thou art all to me . SONG . MEMORY , hither come ...
หน้า 58
... my black - eyed maid Closes her eyes in sleep beneath night's shade , Whene'er I enter , more than mortal fire Burns in my soul , and does my song inspire . WHE SONG . HEN early Morn walks forth in sober 58 BLAKE'S POEMS .
... my black - eyed maid Closes her eyes in sleep beneath night's shade , Whene'er I enter , more than mortal fire Burns in my soul , and does my song inspire . WHE SONG . HEN early Morn walks forth in sober 58 BLAKE'S POEMS .
หน้า 59
... beneath her dusky bower , And gently sighs away the silent hour , The village bell alarms , away I go , And the vale darkens at my pensive woe . To that sweet village where my black - eyed maid Doth drop a tear beneath the silent shade ...
... beneath her dusky bower , And gently sighs away the silent hour , The village bell alarms , away I go , And the vale darkens at my pensive woe . To that sweet village where my black - eyed maid Doth drop a tear beneath the silent shade ...
หน้า 60
... Beneath the bosom of the sea , Wandering in many a coral grove ; Fair Nine , forsaking Poetry ; 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 ...
... Beneath the bosom of the sea , Wandering in many a coral grove ; Fair Nine , forsaking Poetry ; 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 ...
หน้า 61
... be humblèd ! " Gordred the giant roused himself From sleeping in his cave ; He shook the hills , and in the clouds The troubled banners wave . Beneath them rolled , like tempests black , The numerous GWIN , KING OF NORWAY . 61.
... be humblèd ! " Gordred the giant roused himself From sleeping in his cave ; He shook the hills , and in the clouds The troubled banners wave . Beneath them rolled , like tempests black , The numerous GWIN , KING OF NORWAY . 61.
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Albert Durer angel Anne Hathaway arms artist AUDLEY babe beauty beneath Blake Blake's blood blossoms breast bright brow Chandos character Chaucer clothed clouds colour dark death delight dost doth earth echoing green Emanuel Swedenborg eternal eyes fair father fear feet field fire flowers frowning fruit genius gold golden groan Gwin hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry Baillie holy HOLY THURSDAY human infant JOSEPH SKIPSEY KING lamb land laugh light lion Lord Lyca merry morning mother never night o'er Painter pale pity poet Prince Queen QUEEN PHILIPPA Robert Moffat round shining sigh silent sing sleep smile song Songs of Experience sorrow soul sweet tears tell thee Thel thine thou tigers Titian tree trembling vales voice walk wandered weep wept wife Wife of Bath wild William William Blake wings youth
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หน้า 170 - 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? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did He smile His work to see?...
หน้า 12 - To HELEN Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
หน้า 141 - To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, All pray in their distress, And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness. For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, Is God our Father dear; And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, Is man, His child and care. For Mercy has a human heart; Pity, a human face; And Love, the human form divine: And Peace, the human dress.
หน้า 175 - 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.
หน้า 178 - I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I watered it in fears Night and morning with my tears, And I sunned it with smiles And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright, And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine...
หน้า 148 - Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, And the dews of night arise ; Come, come, leave off play, and let us away, Till the morning appears in the skies.
หน้า 58 - Whether in Heaven ye wander fair, Or the green corners of the earth, Or the blue regions of the air Where the melodious winds have birth...
หน้า 133 - I am black, as if bereav'd of light. My mother taught me underneath a tree, And sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissed me, And, pointing to the east, began to say: "Look on the rising sun — there God does live, And gives his light, and gives his heat away; And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive Comfort in morning, joy in the noon day.
หน้า 224 - 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?
หน้า 206 - The hand of Vengeance found the bed To which the purple tyrant fled; The iron hand crush'd the tyrant's head, And became a tyrant in his stead.' Auguries of Innocence 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. A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons Shudders Hell thro