Tag Archives: William Blake

“Bring Me an Axe and Spade…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827)   Bring me an axe and spade, Bring me a winding sheet; When I my grave have made, Let winds and tempests beat: Then down I lie, … Continue reading

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Earth’s Answer

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827)   Earth raised up her head From the darkness dread and drear, Her light fled, Stony, dread, And her locks covered with grey despair. ‘Prisoned on watery … Continue reading

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Mock on, Mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau

  …from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827) 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 … Continue reading

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“The Rhine was red”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827) The Rhine was red with humane blood, The Danube roll’d a purple tide, On the Euphrates Satan stood And over Asia stretch’d his pride. He wither’d up … Continue reading

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Never seek to tell thy love

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827) Never seek to tell thy love Love that never told could be; For the gentle wind does move Silently, invisibly. I told my love, I told my … Continue reading

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The Tiger

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757-1827)  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 … Continue reading

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Ah! Sun-flower…

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827)  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 … Continue reading

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The Voice of Ancient Bard

…from the quills of the dead white poet William Blake (1757 – 1827)  Youth of delight, come hither, And see the opening morn, Image of truth new-born. Doubt is fled, and cloud of reason, Dark disputes and artful teasing. Folly … Continue reading

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Jerusalem

…from the quills of the dead white poets   William Blake (1757 – 1827) And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England’s mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England’s pleasant pastures seen? And did the … Continue reading

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A Poison Tree

…from the quills of dead white poets   William Blake (1757-1827) A POISON TREE I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath … Continue reading

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the garden of love…

…from the quills of dead white poets William Blake (1757-1827) The Garden of Love I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A chapel was built in the midst, where I used to play … Continue reading

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