William Blake

“ Oh bless those limbs, beaming with heavenly light!
Like as an angel glittering in the sky
In times of innocence and holy joy;
The joyful shepherd stops his grateful song
To hear the music of an angel's tongue.
So when she speaks, the voice of Heaven I hear;
So when we walk, nothing impure comes near;
Each field seems Eden, and each calm retreat;
Each village seems the haunt of holy feet.
But that sweet village, where 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. ”

“ The arrows of Almighty God are drawn!
Angels of Death stand in the lowering heavens!
Thousands of souls must seek the realms of light,
And walk together on the clouds of heaven!
Prepare, prepare.
Soldiers, prepare! Our cause is Heaven's cause;
Soldiers, prepare! Be worthy of our cause:
Prepare to meet our fathers in the sky:
Prepare, O troops that are to fall to-day!
Prepare, prepare.
Alfred shall smile, and make his harp rejoice;
The Norman William and the learned Clerk,
And Lion-Heart, and black-brow'd Edward with
His loyal queen shall rise, and welcome us! ”

“ O FOR a voice like thunder, and a tongue
To drown the throat of war! When the senses
Are shaken, and the soul is driven to madness,
Who can stand? When the soul of the oppress'd
Fight in the troubled air that rages, who can stand?
When the whirlwind of fury comes from the
Throne of God, when the frowns of His countenance
Drive the nations together, who can stand?
When Sin claps his broad wings over the battle,
And sails rejoicing in the flood of death ”

“ Morning
"Shall be prevented by their swords gleaming,
"And Evening hear their song of victory!
"Their towers shall be built upon the rocks,
"Their daughters shall sing, surrounded with shining spears!
"Liberty shall stand upon the cliffs of Albion,
"Casting her blue eyes over the green ocean;
"Or, towering, stand upon the roaring waves,
"Stretching her mighty spear o'er distant lands;
"While, with her eagle wings, she covereth
"Fair Albion's shore, and all her families." ”

“ In the darkness of night and the winter's snow,
In the naked and outcast, seek Love there."
SONG BY A SHEPHERD.
WELCOME, stranger, to this place,
Where joy doth sit on every bough,
Paleness flies from every face;
We reap not what we do not sow.
Innocence doth like a rose
Bloom on every maiden's cheek;
Honour twines around her brows,
The jewel health adorns her neck.
SONG BY AN OLD SHEPHERD.
WHEN silver snow decks Sylvia's clothes,
And jewel hangs at shepherd's nose, [2]
We can abide life's pelting storm,
That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm. ”

“ DEAR mother, dear mother, the church is cold,
⁠But the ale-house is healthy and pleasant and warm;
Besides I can tell where I am used well,
Such usage in heaven will never do well.
But if at the church they would give us some ale
And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,
We'd sing and we'd pray all the livelong day:
Nor ever once wish from the church to stray.
Then the parson might preach and drink and sing,
And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring:
And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at church,
Would not have bandy children nor fasting nor birch. ”

“ The moon hung
not out her lamp, and the stars faintly glimmered in
the summer sky; the breath of night slept among
the leaves of the forest; the bosom of the lofty
hill drank in the silent dew, while on his majestic
brow the voice of angels is heard, and stringed
sounds ride upon the wings of night. The sorrowful
pair lift up their heads, hovering angels are
around them, voices of comfort are heard over the
Couch of Death, and the youth breathes out his
soul with joy into eternity. ”

“ The glittering youth of courts
must gleam in arms! The aged senators their
ancient swords assume! The trembling sinews of
old age must work the work of death against their
progeny; for Tyranny hath stretched his purple
arm, and "Blood," he cries: the chariots and
the horses, the noise of shout, and dreadful thunder
of the battle heard afar! Beware, O proud! thou
shalt be humbled; thy cruel brow, thine iron heart is
smitten, though lingering Fate is slow. O yet may
Albion smile again, and stretch her peaceful arms,
and raise her golden head, exultingly! ”

“ Till into the high dome of Paul's they like 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 and girls raising their innocent hands.
Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among.
Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor ”

“ Pale death, and follow'd on the wings of fear.
They pass'd swift thro' the outer gate; the wretch
Howling, leap'd o'er the wall into the moat,
Stifling in mud. Fair Ellen pass'd the bridge,
And heard a gloomy voice cry, "Is it done?"
As the deer wounded Ellen flew over
The pathless plain; as the arrows that fly
By night; destruction flies, and strikes in darkness. ”

“ O who can answer at the throne of God?
The Kings and Nobles of the land have done it!
Hear it not, Heaven, thy ministers have done it!
PROLOGUE TO KING JOHN.
JUSTICE hath heaved a sword to plunge in
Albion's breast; for Albion's sins are crimson-dyed,
and the red scourge follows her desolate
sons. Then Patriot rose; full oft did Patriot rise,
when Tyranny hath stained fair Albion's breast
with her own children's gore. Round his majestic
feet deep thunders roll; each heart does tremble,
and each knee grows slack. ”

“ Why, Chandos, you are a wise man,
I know you understand me; a distemper
The King caught here in France of running away.
Audley.
Sir Thomas, you say you have caught it too.
Dagworth.
And so will the whole army; 'tis very catching,
For when the coward runs, the brave man totters.
Perhaps the air of the country is the cause.
I feel it coming upon me, so I strive against it;
You yet are whole, but after a few more
Retreats, we all shall know how to retreat
Better than fight.—To be plain, I think retreating
Too often, takes away a soldier's courage.
Chandos. ”

“ Death roams in cities' smoke, and in still night,
When men sleep in their beds, walketh about!
How many in walled cities lie and groan,
Turning themselves upon their beds,
Talking with death, answering his hard demands!
How many walk in darkness, terrors are round
The curtains of their beds, destruction is
Ready at the door! How many sleep
In earth, cover'd with stones and deathy dust,
Resting in quietness, whose spirits walk
Upon the clouds of heaven, to die no more!
Yet death is terrible, tho' borne on angels' wings. ”

“ You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."
And so he was quiet; and that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight;
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack, ⁠
Were all of them lock'd up in coffins of black.
And by came an angel who had a bright key,
And he open'd the coffins and set them all free;
Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing they run,
And wash in a river and shine in the sun.
Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind ”

“ With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car
Rode o'er the deep of heaven: beside our springs
Sit down, and in our mossy valleys, on
Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy
Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:
Our valleys love the Summer in his pride. ”

“ Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
Smile on our loves, and, while thou drawest the
Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew
On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes
In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on
The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,
And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,
Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,
And the lion glares thro' the dun forest:
The fleeces of our flocks are cover'd with
Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence.
TO MORNING.
O HOLY virgin! ”

“ Of the other's labour. This is philosophy;
These are the tricks of the world; but the pure soul
Shall mount on native wings, disdaining little sport,
And cut a path into the heaven of glory,
Leaving a track of light for men to wonder at.
I'm glad my father does not hear me talk;
You can find friendly excuses for me, Chandos.
But do you not think, Sir John, that if it please
The Almighty to stretch out my span of life,
I shall with pleasure view a glorious action,
Which my youth master'd?
Chandos.
Considerate age, my Lord, views motives,
And not acts ”

“ Mary moves in soft beauty and conscious delight,
To augment with sweet smiles all the joys of the night;
Nor once blushes to own to the rest of the fair
That sweet love and beauty are worthy our care. ”

“ 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. ”

“ THE door of Death is made of gold
⁠That mortal eyes cannot behold;
But when the mortal eyes are closed,
And cold and pale the limbs reposed,
The soul awakes and, wondering, sees
In her mild hand the golden keys:
The grave is heaven's golden gate,
And rich and poor around it wait. ”

“ Truth, that shinest with propitious beams, turning
our earthly night to heavenly day, from presence
of the Almighty Father! thou visitest our darkling
world with blessed feet, bringing good news of Sin
and Death destroyed! ”

“ Thy
"power is more than mortal, none can hurt thee;
"thy bones are brass, thy sinews are iron! Ten
"thousand spears are like the summer grass; an
"army of mighty men are as flocks in the valleys:
"what canst thou fear? ”

“ Several of the Warriors met at the King's Tent with a Minstrel, who sings the following Song:
O SONS of Trojan Brutus, clothed in war,
Whose voices are the thunder of the field,
Rolling dark clouds o'er France, muffling the sun
In sickly darkness like a dim eclipse,
Threatening as the red brow of storms, as fire
Burning up nations in your wrath and fury! ”

“ For he hears the lambs' innocent call,
And he hears the ewes' tender reply;
He is watchful while they are in peace,
For they know when their shepherd is nigh.
THE ECHOING GREEN.
THE sun does arise
⁠And make happy the skies ”

“ Fie, fie, Lord Clarence, you proceed not to business,
But speak of your own pleasures.
I hope their lordships will excuse your giddiness.
Clarence.
My lords, the French have fitted out many
Small ships of war, that like to ravening wolves,
Infest our English seas, devouring all
Our burden'd vessels, spoiling our naval flocks.
The merchants do complain, and beg our aid.
Percy.
The merchants are rich enough;
Can they not help themselves? ”

“ England, for all our blood and bones are in France;
and a great deal more that we shall all hear by
and by; and I came to tell your honour, because
you love to hear war-songs.
Dagworth.
And who is this minstrel, Peter, dost know?
Peter.
O ay, I forgot to tell that; he has got the same
name as Sir John Chandos, that the Prince is always
with—the wise man that knows us all as well as
your honour, only ain't so good-natured. ”

“ Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie,
When we see not through 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.
LONG JOHN BROWN AND LITTLE MARY BELL.
LITTLE Mary Bell had a fairy in a nut,
⁠Long John Brown had the devil in his gut;
Long John Brown loved little Mary Bell,
And the fairy drew the devil into the nutshell. ”

“ 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, ”

“ Our fathers, sweating, lean on their spears, and view
The mighty dead: giant bodies, streaming blood,
Dread visages, frowning in silent death.
Then Brutus spoke, inspired; our fathers sit
Attentive on the melancholy shore:
Hear ye the voice of Brutus—"The flowing waves
"Of time come rolling o'er my breast," he said;
"And my heart labours with futurity:
"Our sons shall rule the empire of the sea.
"Their mighty wings shall stretch from east to west,
"Their nest is in the sea; but they shall roam
"Like eagles for the prey; nor shall the young
"Crave or be heard ”

“ The youthful sun joys
"like a hunter roused to the chase; he rushes up the
"sky, and lays hold on the immortal coursers of
"day; the sky glitters with the jingling trappings!
"Like a triumph, season follows season, while the
"airy music fills the world with joyful sounds." ”

“ Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
The feet of angels bright.
Unseen they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom
And each sleeping bosom.
They look in every thoughtless nest,
Where birds are cover'd warm;
They visit caves of every beast,
To keep them all from harm. ”

“ The 'Divine Breathings' are the work of a well-read and thoughtful man. . . . . . Taken as a whole they are, in a remarkable way, free from the slightest tinge of controversy, and may very profitably be read by either Catholic or Protestant. It would be unjust not to add that this little volume is an extremely pretty specimen of the Chiswick Press."—Athenæum.
"This is a book of devout piety and much learning, combined with a tender and beautiful style, which certainly reflects high honour upon the author, whoever he may have been."—Christian World. ”

“ Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death,
And close her from thy ancient walls? ”