The Complete Poems

by William Blake

  Thy brother has armd himself in steel

  To revenge the wrongs thy Children feel

  But vain the sword & vain the bow

  They never can work wars overthrow

  The Hermits prayer & the widows tear

  Alone can free the world from fear

  The hand of vengeance sought the bed

  To which the purple tyrant fled

  The iron hand crushd the tyrants head

  [And usurpd the tyrants throne and bed]

  And became a tyrant in his stead

  Untill the Tyrant himself relent

  50 The Tyrant who first the black bow bent

  Slaughter shall heap the bloody plain

  Resistance & war is the Tyrants gain

  But the Tear of Love & forgiveness sweet

  And submission to death beneath his feet

  The Tear shall melt the sword of steel

  And every wound it has made shall heal

  [For the tear is an intellectual thing]

  And a sigh is the Sword of an Angel King

  And the bitter groan [for anothers] of the Martyrs woe

  60 Is an arrow from the Almighties bow.

  [Additional Stanzas]

  When Satan first the black bow bent

  And the Moral Law from the Gospel rent

  He forg’d the Law into a Sword

  And spilld the blood of Mercys Lord

  [O Charlemaine O Charlemaine]

  Titus. Constantine Charlemaine

  O Voltaire Rousseau Gibbon vain

  Your [mocks & scorn] Grecian mocks & Roman Sword

  Against this image of his Lord

  70 A tear is an &c

  Gibbon plied his lash of steel

  Voltaire turnd his wracking wheel

  Charlemaine & his barons bold

  Stood by & mockd in iron & gold

  The Wheel of Voltaire whirld on high

  Gibbon aloud his lash does ply

  Charlemaine & his clouds of War

  Muster around the Polar Bar

  A Grecian Scoff is a wracking wheel

  80 The Roman pride is a sword of steel

  [Vict] Glory & Victory a [plaited] Phallic Whip

  *

  MORNING

  To find the Western path

  Right thro the Gates of Wrath

  I urge my way

  Sweet Mercy leads me on

  With soft repentant moan

  I see the break of day

  The war of swords & spears

  Melted by dewy tears

  Exhales on high

  10 The Sun is freed from fears

  And with soft grateful tears

  Ascends the sky

  *

  Terror in the house does roar

  But Pity stands before the door

  *

  [This world] Each Man is in [the] His Spectres power

  Untill the arrival of that hour

  [Untill the] When his Humanity awake

  And Cast [the] his own Spectre into the Lake

  And there to Eternity aspire

  The selfhood in a flame of fire

  Till then the Lamb of God

  *

  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 back again

  And every sand becomes a Gem

  Reflected in the beams divine

  Blown back they blind the mocking Eye

  But still in Israels paths they shine

  The Atoms of Democritus

  10 And Newtons Particles of light

  Are sands upon the Red sea shore

  Where Israels tents do shine so bright

  *

  My Spectre around me night & day

  Like a Wild beast guards my way

  My Emanation far within

  Weeps incessantly for my Sin

  [(Her) Thy weeping (She) thou shall neer give oer

  I Sin against (her) thee more & more

  And never will from sin be free

  Till she forgives & comes to me

  Thou hast parted from my side

  Once thou wast a virgin bride

  Never shalt thou a (lover) true love find

  My Spectre follows thee Behind]

  [In a dark cold winter night]

  [A deep winter (night) dark & cold

  Within my (loves) Heart thou didst unfold

  A Fathomless & boundless Deep

  There we wander there we weep

  When my Love did first begin

  Thou didst call that Love a Sin

  20 Secret trembling night & day

  Driving all my Loves away]

  A Fathomless & boundless deep

  There we wander there we weep

  On the hungry craving wind

  My Spectre follows thee behind

  He scents thy footsteps in the snow

  Wheresoever thou dost go

  Thro the wintry hail & rain

  When wilt thou return again

  30 [Didst] Dost thou not in Pride & Scorn

  Fill with tempests all my morn

  And with jealousies & fears

  Fill my pleasant nights with tears

  Seven of my sweet loves thy knife

  Has bereaved of their life

  Their marble tombs I built with tears

  And with cold & shuddering fears

  Seven more loves weep night & day

  Round the tombs where my loves lay

  40 And seven more loves attend each night

  Around my couch with torches bright

  And seven more Loves in my bed

  Crown with wine my mournful head

  Pitying & forgiving all

  Thy transgressions great & small

  When wilt thou return & view

  My loves & them to life renew

  When wilt thou return & live

  When wilt thou pity [&] as I forgive

  50 Never Never I return

  Still for Victory I burn

  Living thee alone Ill have

  And when dead Ill be thy Grave

  Thro the Heaven & Earth & Hell

  Thou shalt never never quell

  I will fly & thou pursue

  Night & Morn the flight renew

  Till [thou] I turn from Female Love

  And [dig] root up the Infernal Grove

  60 [Thou shalt] I shall never worthy be

  To Step into Eternity

  And [I] to end thy cruel mocks

  Annihilate [them] thee on the rocks

  And another form create

  To be subservient to my Fate

  Let us agree to give up Love

  And root up the infernal grove

  Then shall we return & see

  The worlds of happy Eternity

  70 & Throughout all Eternity

  xI forgive you you forgive me

  As our Dear Redeemer said

  This the Wine & this the Bread

  [Additional Stanzas]

  Oer [thy] my Sins Thou sit & moan

  [Have I] Hast thou no sins of [my] thy own

  Oer [thy] my Sins [I] thou sit & weep

  And lull [my] thy own Sins fast asleep

  What transgressions I commit

  Are for thy Transgressions fit

  80 They thy Harlots thou their Slave

  And my Bed becomes their Grave

  Poor pale pitiable form

  That I follow in a Storm

  Iron tears & groans of lead

  Bind around my akeing head

  And let us go to the highest downs

  With many pleasing wiles

  The Woman that does not love your Frowns

  Will never embrace your smiles

  *

  The Hebrew Nation did not write it

  Avarice & Chastity did shite it

  *

  Grown old in Love from Seven till Seven times Seven


  I oft have wishd for Hell for Ease from Heaven

  *

  A Woman Scaly & a Man all Hairy

  Is such a Match as he who dares

  Will find the Womans Scales scrape off the Mans Hairs

  POEMS FROM THE

  PICKERING MANUSCRIPT

  THE SMILE

  There is a Smile of Love

  And there is a Smile of Deceit

  And there is a Smile of Smiles

  In which these two Smiles meet

  And there is a Frown of Hate

  And there is a Frown of disdain

  And there is a Frown of Frowns

  Which you strive to forget in vain

  For it sticks in the Hearts deep Core

  10 And it sticks in the deep Back bone

  And no Smile that ever was smild

  But only one Smile alone

  That betwixt the Cradle & Grave

  It only once Smild can be

  But when it once is Smild

  Theres an end to all Misery

  THE GOLDEN NET

  Three Virgins at the break of day

  Whither young Man whither away

  Alas for woe! alas for woe!

  They cry & tears for ever flow

  The one was Clothd in flames of fire

  The other Clothd in iron wire

  The other Clothd in tears & sighs

  Dazling bright before my Eyes

  They bore a Net of Golden twine

  10 To hang upon the Branches fine

  Pitying I wept to see the woe

  That Love & Beauty undergo

  To be consumd in burning Fires

  And in ungratified desires

  And in tears clothd Night & day

  Melted all my Soul away

  When they saw my Tears a Smile

  That did Heaven itself beguile

  Bore the Golden Net aloft

  20 As on downy Pinions soft

  Over the Morning of my day

  Underneath the Net I stray

  Now intreating Burning Fire

  Now intreating Iron Wire

  Now intreating Tears & Sighs

  O when will the morning rise

  THE MENTAL TRAVELLER

  I traveld thro’ a Land of Men

  A Land of Men & Women too

  And heard & saw such dreadful things

  As cold Earth wanderers never knew

  For there the Babe is born in joy

  That was begotten in dire woe

  Just as we Reap in joy the fruit

  Which we in bitter tears did sow

  And if the Babe is born a Boy

  10 He’s given to a Woman Old

  Who nails him down upon a rock

  Catches his shrieks in cups of gold

  She binds iron thorns around his head

  She pierces both his hands & feet

  She cuts his heart out at his side

  To make it feel both cold & heat

  Her fingers number every Nerve

  Just as a Miser counts his gold

  She lives upon his shrieks & cries

  20 And she grows young as he grows old

  Till he becomes a bleeding youth

  And she becomes a Virgin bright

  Then he rends up his Manacles

  And binds her down for his delight

  He plants himself in all her Nerves

  Just as a Husbandman his mould

  And she becomes his dwelling place

  And Garden fruitful seventy fold

  An aged Shadow soon he fades

  30 Wandring round an Earthly Cot

  Full filled all with gems & gold

  Which he by industry had got

  And these are the gems of the Human Soul

  The rubies & pearls of a lovesick eye

  The countless gold of the akeing heart

  The martyrs groan & the lovers sigh

  They are his meat they are his drink

  He feeds the Beggar & the Poor

  And the wayfaring Traveller

  40 For ever open is his door

  His grief is their eternal joy

  They make the roofs & walls to ring

  Till from the fire on the hearth

  A little Female Babe does spring

  And she is all of solid fire

  And gems & gold that none his hand

  Dares stretch to touch her Baby form

  Or wrap her in his swaddling-band

  But She comes to the Man she loves

  50 If young or old or rich or poor

  They soon drive out the aged Host

  A Beggar at anothers door

  He wanders weeping far away

  Untill some other take him in

  Oft blind & age-bent sore distrest

  Untill he can a Maiden win

  And to allay his freezing Age

  The Poor Man takes her in his arms

  The Cottage fades before his sight

  60 The Garden & its lovely Charms

  The Guests are scatterd thro’ the land

  For the Eye altering alters all

  The Senses roll themselves in fear

  And the flat Earth becomes a Ball

  The Stars Sun Moon all shrink away

  A desart vast without a bound

  And nothing left to eat or drink

  And a dark desart all around

  The honey of her Infant lips

  70 The bread & wine of her sweet smile

  The wild game of her roving Eye

  Does him to Infancy beguile

  For as he eats & drinks he grows

  Younger & younger every day

  And on the desart wild they both

  Wander in terror & dismay

  Like the wild Stag she flees away

  Her fear plants many a thicket wild

  While he pursues her night & day

  80 By various arts of Love beguild

  By various arts of Love & Hate

  Till the wide desart planted oer

  With Labyrinths of wayward Love

  Where roams the Lion Wolf & Boar

  Till he becomes a wayward Babe

  And she a weeping Woman Old

  Then many a Lover wanders here

  The Sun & Stars are nearer rolld

  The trees bring forth sweet Extacy

  90 To all who in the desart roam

  Till many a City there is Built

  And many a pleasant Shepherds home

  But when they find the frowning Babe

  Terror strikes thro the region wide

  They cry the Babe the Babe is Born

  And flee away on Every side

  For who dare touch the frowning form

  His arm is witherd to its root

  Lions Boars Wolves all howling flee

  100 And every Tree does shed its fruit

  And none can touch that frowning form

  Except it be a Woman Old

  She nails him down upon the Rock

  And all is done as I have told

  THE LAND OF DREAMS

  Awake awake my little Boy

  Thou wast thy Mothers only joy

  Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep

  Awake thy Father does thee keep

  O what Land is the Land of Dreams

  What are its Mountains & what are its Streams

  O Father I saw my Mother there

  Among the Lillies by waters fair

  Among the Lambs clothed in white

  10 She walkd with her Thomas in sweet delight

  I wept for joy like a dove I mourn

  O when shall I again return

  Dear Child I also by pleasant Streams

  Have wanderd all Night in the Land of Dreams

  But tho calm & warm the waters wide

  I could not get to the other side

  Father O Father what do we here

  In this Land of unbelief & fear

  The Land of Dreams is better far

  20 Above the
light of the Morning Star

  MARY

  Sweet Mary the first time she ever was there

  Came into the Ball room among the Fair

  The young Men & Maidens around her throng

  And these are the words upon every tongue

  An Angel is here from the heavenly Climes

  Or again does return the Golden times

  Her eyes outshine every brilliant ray

  She opens her lips tis the Month of May

  Mary moves in soft beauty & conscious delight

  10 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 & Beauty are worthy our care

  In the Morning the Villagers rose with delight

  And repeated with pleasure the joys of the night

  And Mary arose among Friends to be free

  But no Friend from henceforward thou Mary shalt see

  Some said she was proud some calld her a whore

  And some when she passed by shut to the door

  A damp cold came oer her her blushes all fled

  20 Her lillies & roses are blighted & shed

  O why was I born with a different Face

  Why was I not born like this Envious Race

  Why did Heaven adorn me with bountiful hand

  And then set me down in an envious Land

  To be weak as a Lamb & smooth as a dove

  And not to raise Envy is calld Christian Love

  But if you raise Envy your Merits to blame

  For planting such spite in the weak & the tame

  I will humble my Beauty I will not dress fine

  30 I will keep from the Ball & my Eyes shall not shine

  And if any Girls Lover forsakes her for me

  I’ll refuse him my hand & from Envy be free

  She went out in Morning attird plain & neat

  Proud Marys gone Mad said the Child in the Street

  She went out in Morning in plain neat attire

  And came home in Evening bespatterd with mire

  She trembled & wept sitting on the Bed side

  She forgot it was Night & she trembled & cried

  She forgot it was Night she forgot it was Morn

  40 Her soft Memory imprinted with Faces of Scorn

  With Faces of Scorn & with Eyes of disdain

  Like foul Fiends inhabiting Marys mild Brain

  She remembers no Face like the Human Divine

  All Faces have Envy sweet Mary but thine

  And thine is a Face of sweet Love in Despair

  And thine is a Face of mild sorrow & care

  And thine is a Face of wild terror & fear

  That shall never be quiet till laid on its bier

  THE CRYSTAL CABINET

  The Maiden caught me in the Wild

  Where I was dancing merrily

  She put me into her Cabinet

  And Lockd me up with a golden Key

  This Cabinet is formd of Gold