Life of William Blake: With Selections from His Poems and Other Writings, Volume 2

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Macmillan and Company, 1880
 

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Page 69 - I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I water'd it in fears, Night & 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, And into my garden stole When the night had...
Page 107 - 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.
Page 121 - Mock on' Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau; Mock on, mock on: 'tis all in vain! You throw the sand against the wind, And the wind blows it back again. And every sand becomes a gem, Reflected in the beams divine. Blown back they blind the mocking eye, But still in Israel's paths they shine.
Page 40 - 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. Then every man, of every clime, That prays in his distress, Prays to the human form divine: Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace. And all must love the human form, In heathen, Turk, or Jew. Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell, There God is dwelling too.
Page 336 - 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...
Page 111 - When we see not thro' the eye, Which was born in a night, to perish in a night, When the Soul slept in beams of light. God appears, and God is Light, To those poor souls who dwell in Night; But does a Human Form display To those who dwell in realms of Day.
Page 64 - AH! SUN-FLOWER Ah, sun-flower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey is done: Where the youth pined away with desire, And the pale virgin shrouded in snow Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sun-flower wishes to go.
Page 31 - 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...
Page 41 - Thames' waters flow. O what a multitude they seem'd, 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 & girls raising their innocent hands.
Page 110 - Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are Born. Every Morn and every Night Some are Born to Sweet Delight. Some are Born to Sweet Delight, Some are Born to Endless Night. We are led to Believe a Lie When we see not Thro...

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