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	<title>Dictionary Poems &#187; William Blake</title>
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		<title>I Saw a Chapel by William Blake</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:56:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[I Saw a Chapel by William Blake 1 I saw a chapel all of gold 2 That none did dare to enter in, 3 And many weeping stood without, 4 Weeping, mourning, worshipping. 5 I saw a serpent rise between 6 The white pillars of the door, 7 And he forc&#8217;d and forc&#8217;d and forc&#8217;d, [...]]]></description>
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		<title>I Heard an Angel by William Blake</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:34:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[William Blake]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I Heard an Angel by William Blake 1 I heard an Angel singing 2 When the day was springing, 3 &#8220;Mercy, Pity, Peace 4 Is the world&#8217;s release.&#8221; 5 Thus he sung all day 6 Over the new mown hay, 7 Till the sun went down 8 And haycocks looked brown. 9 I heard a [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Human Abstract by William Blake</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:26:02 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[William Blake]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Human Abstract by William Blake Pity would be no more, If we did not make somebody Poor; And Mercy no more could be, If all were as happy as we; And mutual fear brings peace, Till the selfish loves increase; Then Cruelty knits a snare, And spreads his baits with care. He sits down with [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Holy Thursday by William Blake</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:24:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[William Blake]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Holy Thursday by William Blake Is this a holy thing to see In a rich and fruitful land, &#8211; Babes reduced to misery, Fed with cold and usurous hand? Is that trembling cry a song? Can it be a song of joy? And so many children poor? It is a land of poverty! And their [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Holy Thursday by William Blake</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:23:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[William Blake]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Holy Thursday by William Blake &#8216;Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean, Came children walking two and two, in read, and blue, and green: Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow, Till into the high dome of Paul&#8217;s they like Thames waters flow. Oh what a multitude they seemed, these [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Hear the Voice of the Bard by William Blake</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:19:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[William Blake]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Hear the Voice of the Bard by William Blake 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, Calling the lapsed soul, And weeping in the evening dew; That might control The starry pole, And fallen, fallen, light [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Grey Monk, The by William Blake</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:16:56 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[William Blake]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Grey Monk, The by William Blake &#8220;I die, I die!&#8221; the Mother said, &#8220;My children die for lack of bread. What more has the merciless Tyrant said?&#8221; The Monk sat down on the stony bed. The blood red ran from the Grey Monk&#8217;s side, His hands and feet were wounded wide, His body bent, his [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Garden of Love, The by William Blake</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:13:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[William Blake]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Garden of Love, The by William Blake I laid me down upon a bank, Where Love lay sleeping; I heard among the rushes dank Weeping, weeping. Then I went to the heath and the wild, To the thistles and thorns of the waste; And they told me how they were beguiled, Driven out, and compelled [...]]]></description>
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		<title>French Revolution, The by William Blake</title>
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		<comments>http://www.dictionary-poems.com/french-revolution-the-by-william-blake#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:12:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[William Blake]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[French Revolution, The by William Blake 84 Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch&#8217;s right hand, red as wines 85 From his mountains; an odor of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments, 86 And the chamber became as a clouded sky; o&#8217;er the council he stretch&#8217;d his red [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Four Zoas, The by William Blake</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 20:11:08 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Frédérick</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[William Blake]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Four Zoas, The by William Blake 1.1 &#8220;What is the price of Experience? do men buy it for a song? 1.2 Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the price 1.3 Of all that a man hath, his house, his wife, his children. 1.4 Wisdom is sold in the [...]]]></description>
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