The Complete Poems

by William Blake

  Who countest the steps of the Sun:

  Seeking after that sweet golden clime

  Where the travellers 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.

  THE LILLY

  The modest Rose puts forth a thorn:

  The humble Sheep, a threatning horn:

  While the Lilly white, shall in Love delight,

  Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright

  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 on the green.

  And the gates of this Chapel were shut,

  And Thou shalt not. writ over the door;

  So I turn’d to the Garden of Love,

  That so many sweet flowers bore.

  And I saw it was filled with graves,

  10 And tomb-stones where flowers should be:

  And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,

  And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

  THE LITTLE VAGABOND

  Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold.

  But the Ale-house is healthy & pleasant & warm;

  Besides I can tell where I am use’d 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 live-long day;

  Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray,

  Then the Parson might preach & drink & sing.

  10 And we’d be as happy as birds in the spring:

  And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church,

  Wou’ld not have bandy children nor fasting nor birch.

  And God like a father rejoicing to see,

  His children as pleasant and happy as he:

  Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the Barrel

  But kiss him & give him both drink and apparel.

  LONDON

  I wander thro’ each charter’d street,

  Near where the charter’d Thames does flow.

  And mark in every face I meet

  Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

  In every cry of every Man,

  In every Infants cry of fear,

  In every voice: in every ban,

  The mind-forg’d manacles I hear

  How the Chimney-sweepers cry

  10 Every blackning Church appalls,

  And the hapless Soldiers sigh,

  Runs in blood down Palace walls

  But most thro’ midnight streets I hear

  How the youthful Harlots curse

  Blasts the new-born Infants tear

  And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse

  THE HUMAN ABSTRACT

  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 holy fears,

  10 And waters the ground with tears:

  Then Humility takes its root

  Underneath his foot.

  Soon spreads the dismal shade

  Of Mystery over his head;

  And the Catterpiller and Fly,

  Feed on the Mystery.

  And it bears the fruit of Deceit,

  Ruddy and sweet to eat;

  And the Raven his nest has made

  20 In its thickest shade.

  The Gods of the earth and sea,

  Sought thro’ Nature to find this Tree

  But their search was all in vain:

  There grows one in the Human Brain

  INFANT SORROW

  My mother groand! my father wept.

  Into the dangerous world I leapt:

  Helpless, naked, piping loud;

  Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

  Struggling in my fathers hands:

  Striving against my swadling bands:

  Bound and weary I thought best

  To sulk upon my mothers breast.

  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 did grow.

  And I watered 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.

  10 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 veild the pole;

  In the morning glad I see;

  My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.

  A LITTLE BOY LOST

  Nought loves another as itself

  Nor venerates another so.

  Nor is it possible to Thought

  A greater than itself to know:

  And Father, how can I love you,

  Or any of my brothers more?

  I love you like the little bird

  That picks up crumbs around the door.

  The Priest sat by and heard the child.

  10 In trembling zeal he siez’d his hair:

  He led him by his little coat:

  And all admir’d the Priestly care.

  And standing on the altar high,

  Lo what a fiend is here! said he:

  One who sets reason up for judge

  Of our most holy Mystery.

  The weeping child could not be heard.

  The weeping parents wept in vain:

  They strip’d him to his little shirt.

  20 And bound him in an iron chain.

  And burn’d him in a holy place,

  Where many had been burn’d before:

  The weeping parents wept in vain.

  Are such things done on Albions shore.

  A LITTLE GIRL LOST

  Children of the future Age,

  Reading this indignant page:

  Know that in a former time,

  Love! sweet Love! was thought a crime.

  In the Age of Gold,

  Free from winters cold:

  Youth and maiden bright,

  To the holy light,

  Naked in the sunny beams delight.

  10 Once a youthful pair

  Fill’d with softest care:

  Met in garden bright,

  Where the holy light,

  Had just remov’d the curtains of the night.

  There in rising day,

  On the grass they play:

  Parents were afar:

  Strangers came not near:

  And the maiden soon forgot her fear.

  20 Tired with kisses sweet

  They agree to meet,

  When the silent sleep

  Waves o’er heavens deep;

  And the weary tired wanderers weep.

  To her father white

  Came the maiden bright:

  But his loving look.

  Like the holy book,

  All her tender limbs with terror shook.

  Ona! pale and weak!

  To thy father speak:

  O the trembling fear!

  O the dismal care!

  That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair

  TO TIRZAH

  Whate’er is Born of Mortal Birth,

  Must be consumed with the Earth

  To rise from Generation free;

  Then what have I to do with thee?

  The Sexes spru
ng from Shame & Pride

  Blow’d in the morn: in evening died

  But Mercy changd Death into Sleep;

  The Sexes rose to work & weep.

  Thou Mother of my Mortal part

  10 With cruelty didst mould my Heart,

  And with false self-decieving tears,

  Didst bind my Nostrils Eyes & Ears.

  Didst close my Tongue in senseless clay

  And me to Mortal Life betray:

  The Death of Jesus set me free,

  Then what have I to do with thee?

  THE SCHOOL BOY

  I love to rise in a summer morn,

  When the birds sing on every tree;

  The distant huntsman winds his horn,

  And the sky-lark sings with me.

  O! what sweet company.

  But to go to school in a summer morn

  O! it drives all joy away;

  Under a cruel eye outworn,

  The little ones spend the day,

  10 In sighing and dismay.

  Ah! then at times I drooping sit,

  And spend many an anxious hour.

  Nor in my book can I take delight,

  Nor sit in learnings bower,

  Worn thro’ with the dreary shower

  How can the bird that is born for joy,

  Sit in a cage and sing.

  How can a child when fears annoy,

  But droop his tender wing,

  20 And forget his youthful spring.

  O! father & mother, if buds are nip’d,

  And blossoms blown away,

  And if the tender plants are strip’d

  Of their joy in the springing day,

  By sorrow and cares dismay,

  How shall the summer arise in joy

  Or the summer fruits appear

  Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy

  Or bless the mellowing year,

  30 When the blasts of winter appear.

  THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD

  Youth of delight come hither:

  And see the opening morn,

  Image of truth new born

  Doubt is fled & clouds of reason

  Dark disputes & artful teazing.

  Folly is an endless maze,

  Tangled roots perplex her ways,

  How many have fallen there!

  They stumble all night over bones of the dead;

  10 And feel they know not what but care;

  And wish to lead others when they should be led.

  NOTEBOOK POEMS AND FRAGMENTS, c. 1789–93

  A flower was offerd to me

  Such a flower as may never bore

  But I said Ive a pretty rose tree

  And I passed the sweet flower oer

  Then I went to my pretty rose tree

  [In the silent of the night]

  To tend it by day & by night

  But my rose [was turnd from me/was filld] turnd away with Jealousy

  And her thorns were my only delight

  *

  [Never (seek) pain to tell thy love

  Love that never told can be

  For the gentle wind does move

  Silently invisibly]

  I told my love I told my love

  I told her all my heart

  Trembling cold in ghastly fears

  Ah she doth depart

  Soon as she was gone from me

  A traveller came by

  Silently invisibly

  [He took her with a sigh]

  O was no deny

  *

  Love seeketh not itself to please

  Nor for itself hath any care

  But for another gives its ease

  And builds a heaven in hells despair

  So sung a little clod of clay

  Trodden with the cattles feet

  But a pebble of the brook

  Warbled out these metres meet

  Love seeketh only self to please

  To bind another to its delight

  Joys in anothers loss of ease

  And builds a hell in heavens despite

  *

  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 & the wild

  To the thistles & thorns of the waste

  And they told me how they were beguild

  Driven out & compeld to be chaste

  *

  I went to the garden of love

  And I saw what I never had seen

  A chapel was built in the midst

  Where I used to play on the green

  And the gates of the chapel were shut

  And thou shalt not writ over the door

  [And] So I turned to the garden of love

  That so many sweet flowers bore

  And I saw it was filled with graves

  10 And tomb-stones where flowers should be

  And priests in black gounds were walking their rounds

  And binding with briars my joys & desires

  *

  I saw a chapel all of gold

  That none did dare to enter in

  And many weeping stood without

  Weeping mourning worshipping

  I saw a serpent rise between

  The white pillars of the door

  And he forcd & forcd & forcd

  [Till he broke the pearly door]

  Down the golden hinges tore

  10 And along the pavement sweet

  Set with pearls & rubies bright

  All his slimy length he drew

  Till upon the altar white

  Vomiting his poison out

  On the bread & on the wine

  So I turned into a sty

  And laid me down among the swine

  *

  I asked a thief [if he’d] to steal me a peach

  [And] He turned up his eyes

  I askd a lithe lady to lie her down

  [And] Holy & meek she cries

  As soon as I went An angel came

  [And] He winkd at the thief

  And [he] smild at the dame

  And without one word [spoke] said

  10 Had a peach from the tree

  [And twixt earnest & (game) joke] And still as a maid

  [He] Enjoy’d the [da] lady.

  *

  I heard an Angel singing

  When the day was springing

  Mercy Pity [&] Peace

  Is the worlds release

  Thus he sung all day

  Over the new mown hay

  Till the sun went down

  And haycocks looked brown

  I heard a Devil curse

  10 Over the heath & the furze

  Mercy could be no more

  If there was nobody poor

  And pity no more could be

  If all were as happy as we

  [Thus he sang &] At his curse the sun went down

  And the heavens gave a frown

  [(And) Down pourd the heavy rain

  Over the new reapd grain

  And Mercy & Pity & Peace descended

  20 The Farmers were ruind & harvest was ended]

  [And Mercy Pity & Peace [And by distress increase

  Joyd at their increase Mercy Pity Peace

  With Povertys Increase By Misery to increase

  Are] mercy Pity Peace]

  And Miseries increase

  Is Mercy Pity Peace

  *

  A CRADLE SONG

  1 3 Sleep Sleep; in thy sleep

  [Thou wilt every secret keep]

  [Canst] [Thou canst any secret keep]

  4 Little sorrows sit & weep

  1 Sleep Sleep beauty bright

  [Thou shalt taste the joys of night]

  2 Dreaming oer the joys of night

  [Yet a little while the moon Silent]

  10 3 As thy softest limbs I [touch/stroke] feel

  Smiles as of the morning [brok
e] steal

  Oer thy cheek & oer thy breast

  Where thy little heart does rest

  4 O the cunning wiles that creep

  In thy little heart asleep

  When thy little heart does wake

  Then the dreadful lightnings break

  2 Sweet Babe in thy face

  20 Soft desires I can trace

  Secret joys & secret smiles

  [Such as burning youth beguiles]

  Little pretty infant wiles

  5 From thy cheek & from thy eye

  Oer the youthful harvests nigh

  [Female] Infant wiles & [female] infant smiles

  Heaven & Earth of peace beguiles

  *

  CHRISTIAN FORBEARANCE

  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 did grow

  And I waterd it in fears

  Night & morning with my tears

  And I sunned it with smiles

  And with soft deceitful wiles

  And it grew by day & night

  10 Till it bore an apple bright

  [And I gave it to my foe]

  And my foe beheld it shine

  And he knew that it was mine

  And into my garden stole

  When the night had veild the pole

  In the morning Glad I see

  My foe outstretchd beneath the tree

  *

  I feard the [roughness] fury of my wind

  Would blight all blossoms fair & true

  And my sun it shind & shind

  And my wind it never blew

  But a blossom fair or true

  Was not found on any tree

  For all blossoms grew & grew

  Fruitless false tho fair to see

  *

  [THAMES]

  Why should I care for the men of thames

  Or the cheating waves of charterd streams

  Or shrink at the little blasts of fear

  That the hireling blows into my ear

  Tho born on the cheating banks of Thames

  Tho his waters bathed my infant limbs

  [I spurnd his waters away from me]

  The Ohio shall wash his stains from me

  I was born a slave but I [long] go to be free

  *

  INFANT SORROW

  My mother groand my father wept

  Into the dangerous world I leapt

  Helpless naked piping loud

  Like a fiend hid in a cloud

  Struggling in my fathers hands

  Striving against my swaddling bands

  Bound & weary I thought best

  To sulk upon my mothers breast

  When I saw that rage was vain

  10 And to sulk would nothing gain

  [I began to so/Seeking many an artful wile]

  Turning many a trick or wile

  I began to soothe & smile

  And I [grew/smild] soothd day after day

  Till upon the ground I stray

  And I [grew] smild night after night

  Seeking only for delight