William Blake

50 poems

Earth's Answer

Earth raised up her head / From the darkness dread and drear,

William Blake

Echoing Green, The

The sun does arise, / And make happy the skies;

William Blake

Fly, The

Little Fly, / Thy summer's play

William Blake

Four Zoas, The

1.1 "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

William Blake

French Revolution, The

84 Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines / 85 From his mountains; an odor of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments,

William Blake

Garden of Love, The

I laid me down upon a bank, / Where Love lay sleeping;

William Blake

Grey Monk, The

"I die, I die!" the Mother said, / "My children die for lack of bread.

William Blake

HOLY THURSDAY

Is this a holy thing to see / In a rich and fruitful land, --

William Blake

Hear the Voice of the Bard

Hear the voice of the Bard ! / Who present, past, and future sees;

William Blake

Holy Thursday

'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean, / Came children walking two and two, in read, and blue, and green:

William Blake

Holy Thursday

Is this a holy thing to see / In a rich and fruitful land, --

William Blake

Human Abstract

Pity would be no more, / If we did not make somebody Poor;

William Blake

I Heard an Angel

1 I heard an Angel singing / 2 When the day was springing,

William Blake

I Saw a Chapel

1 I saw a chapel all of gold / 2 That none did dare to enter in,

William Blake

I heard an Angel singing

I heard an Angel singing / When the day was springing:

William Blake

INFANT JOY

I have no name; / I am but two days old.

William Blake

INFANT SORROW

My mother groaned, my father wept: / Into the dangerous world I leapt,

William Blake

Infant Sorrow

i / My mother groan'd, my father wept;

William Blake

NURSE'S SONG

When the voices of children are heard on the green, / And laughing is heard on the hill,

William Blake

NURSE'S SONG

When voices of children are heard on the green, / And whisperings are in the dale,

William Blake