The Complete Poems

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The Complete Poems Page 49

by William Blake


  Written within & without in woven letters: & the Writing

  Is the Divine Revelation in the Litteral expression:

  A Garment of War, I heard it namd the Woof of Six Thousand Years

  And I beheld the Twenty-four Cities of Albion

  Arise upon their Thrones to Judge the Nations of the Earth

  And the Immortal Four in whom the Twenty-four appear Four-fold

  Arose around Albions body: Jesus wept & walked forth

  20 From Felphams Vale clothed in Clouds of blood, to enter into

  Albions Bosom, the bosom of death & the Four surrounded him

  In the Column of Fire in Felphams Vale; then to their mouths the Four

  Applied their Four Trumpets & them sounded to the Four winds

  Terror struck in the Vale I stood at that immortal sound

  My bones trembled. I fell outstretchd upon the path

  A moment, & my Soul returnd into its mortal state

  To Resurrection & Judgment in the Vegetable Body

  And my sweet Shadow of Delight stood trembling by my side

  Immediately the Lark mounted with a loud trill from Felphams Vale

  30 And the Wild Thyme from Wimbletons green & impurpled Hills

  And Los & Enitharmon rose over the Hills of Surrey

  Their clouds roll over London with a south wind, soft Oothoon

  Pants in the Vales of Lambeth weeping oer her Human Harvest

  Los listens to the Cry of the Poor Man: his Cloud

  Over London in volume terrific, low bended in anger.

  Rintrah & Palamabron view the Human Harvest beneath

  Their Wine-presses & Barns stand open; the Ovens are prepar’d

  The Waggons ready: terrific Lions & Tygers sport & play

  All Animals upon the Earth, are prepard in all their strength

  PLATE 43

  To go forth to the Great Harvest & Vintage of the Nations

  Finis

  DEDICATION TO BLAKE’S ILLUSTRATIONS TO BLAIR’S GRAVE

  TO THE QUEEN

  The Door of Death is made of Gold,

  That Mortal Eyes cannot behold;

  But, when the Mortal Eyes are clos’d,

  And cold and pale the Limbs repos’d,

  The Soul awakes; and, wond’ring, sees

  In her mild Hand the golden Key

  The Grave is Heaven’s golden Gate,

  And rich and poor around it wait;

  O Shepherdess of England’s Fold,

  10 Behold this Gate of Pearl and Gold!

  To dedicate to England’s Queen

  The Visions that my Soul has seen,

  And, by Her kind permission, bring

  What I have borne on solemn Wing

  From the vast regions of the Grave,

  Before Her Throne my Wings I wave;

  Bowing before my Sov’reign’s Feet,

  ‘The Grave produc’d these Blossoms sweet

  ‘In mild repose from Earthly strife;

  20 ‘The Blossoms of Eternal Life!’

  NOTEBOOK EPIGRAMS AND SATIRIC VERSES, c. 1808–12

  You dont believe I wont attempt to make ye

  You are asleep I wont attempt to wake ye

  Sleep on Sleep on while in your pleasant dreams

  Of Reason you may drink of Lifes clear streams

  Reason and Newton they are quite two things

  For so the Swallow & the Sparrow sings

  Reason says Miracle. Newton says Doubt

  Aye thats the way to make all Nature out

  Doubt Doubt & dont believe without experiment

  10 That is the very thing that Jesus meant

  When he said Only Believe Believe & try

  Try Try & never mind the Reason why

  *

  No real Style of Colouring ever appears

  But advertising in the News Papers

  Look there youll see Sr Joshuas Colouring

  Look at his Pictures [tis quite another Thing] All has

  taken Wing

  *

  And his legs carried it like a long fork

  Reachd all the way from Chichester to York

  From York all across Scotland to the Sea

  This was a Man of Men as seems to me

  Not only in his Mouth his own Soul lay

  But my Soul also would he bear away

  Like as a Pedlar bears his weary Pack

  [He would bear my Soul] So Stewhards Soul he buckld to

  his Back

  But once alas committing a Mistake

  10 He bore the wretched Soul of William Blake

  That he might turn it into Eggs of Gold

  But neither Back nor mouth those Eggs could hold

  His under jaw dropd as those Eggs he laid

  And [all my] Stewhards Eggs are addled & decayd

  The Examiner whose very name is Hunt

  Calld Death a Madman [Deadly the affront] trembling for the affront

  Like trembling Hare sits on his weakly paper

  On which he usd to dance & sport & caper

  Yorkshire Jack Hemp & gentle blushing daw

  20 Clapd Death into the corner of their jaw

  And Felpham Billy rode out every morn

  Horseback with Death over the fields of corn

  [And] Who with iron hand cuffd in the afternoon

  The Ears of Billys Lawyer & Dragoon

  And Cur my Lawyer & Dady Jack Hemps Parson

  Both went to Law with Death to keep our Ears on

  For how to starve Death we had laid a plot

  Against his Price but Death was in the Pot

  He made them pay his Price alack a day

  30 He knew both Law & Gospel better than they

  O that I neer ha[d] seen that William Blake

  Or could from death Assassinetti wake

  We thought Alas that such a thought should be

  That Blake would Etch for him & draw for me

  For twas a kind of Bargain Screwmuch made

  That Blakes designs should be by us displayed

  Because he makes designs so very cheap

  Then Screwmuch at Blakes soul took a long leap

  Twas not a Mouse twas Death in a disguise

  40 And I alas live to weep out mine Eyes

  And Death sits [mocking] laughing on their Monuments

  On which hes written Recievd the Contents

  But I have writ so sorrowful my thought is

  His Epitaph [with tears of] for my tears are aqua fortis

  [Ye] Come Artists knock your heads against This stone

  For Sorrow that [your] our friend Bob Screwmuchs gone

  And now the Men upon me smile & Laugh

  Ill also write my own dear Epitaph

  And Ill be buried near a Dike

  50 That my friends may weep as much as they like

  Here lies Stewhard the Friend of All &c

  *

  Was I angry with Hayley who usd me so ill

  Or can I be angry with Felphams old Mill

  [Or angry with Boydell or Bowyer or Ba]

  Or angry with Flaxman or Cromek or Stothard

  Or poor Schiavonetti whom they to death botherd

  Or angry with Macklin or Boydel or Bowyer

  Because they did not say O what a Beau ye are

  At a Friends Errors Anger shew

  Mirth at the Errors of a Foe

  *

  Anger & Wrath my bosom rends

  I thought them the Errors of friends

  But all my limbs with warmth glow

  I find them the Errors of the foe

  *

  The Sussex Men are Noted Fools

  And weak is their brain pan

  I wonder if H[aines] the painter

  Is not a Sussex Man

  *

  [Look Flaxman & Stothard do] old acquaintance well

  renew

  Prospero had One Caliban & I have Two

  *

  Madman I have been calld Fool t
hey call thee

  I wonder which they Envy Thee or Me

  TO H[UNT]

  You think Fuseli is not a Great Painter Im Glad

  This is one of the best compliments he ever had

  TO F[LAXMAN]

  I mock thee not tho I by thee am Mocked

  Thou callst me Madman but I call thee Blockhead

  *

  Can there be any thing more mean

  More Malice in disguise

  Than Praise a Man for doing [that] what

  [Which he] That Man does most despise

  [This] Reynolds Lectures [plainly shew] Exactly so

  When he praises Michael Angelo

  *

  S[tothard] in Childhood on the Nursery floor

  Was extreme Old & most extremely poor

  He is grown old & rich & what he will

  He is extreme old & extreme poor still

  TO NANCY F[LAXMAN]

  How can I help thy Husbands copying Me

  Should that make difference twixt me & Thee

  *

  Of H[ayley]s birth this was the happy lot

  His Mother on his Father him begot

  *

  Sir Joshua Praises Michael Angelo

  [(And counts it courage) Is it Politeness thus to praise his foe]

  Tis Christian Mildness when [fools] Knaves Praise a Foe

  But Twould be Madness [that we all must] all the World would say

  [If All] Should Michael Angelo [praising] praise Sir Joshua

  Christ usd the Pharisees in a rougher way

  *

  Hes a Blockhead who wants a proof of what he Cant Percieve

  And he’s a Fool who [seeks] tries to make such a Blockhead believe

  *

  Cr[omek] loves artists as he loves his Meat

  [Cr–] He loves the Art but tis the Art to Cheat

  *

  A Petty sneaking Knave I knew

  O Mr Cr[omek] how do ye do

  *

  Sir Jo[s]hua praised Rubens with a Smile

  By Calling his the ornamental Style

  [Because] And yet his praise of Flaxman was the smartest

  When he calld him the Ornamental Artist

  But sure such ornaments we well may spare

  [Like a filthy infectious head of hair]

  [A Crooked stick & louzy head of hair]

  As Crooked limbs & louzy heads of hair

  *

  He is a Cock [wont] would

  And would be a [crow] Cock if he could

  *

  He has observd the Golden Rule

  Till hes become the Golden Fool

  TO S[TOTHAR]D

  [He] You all [his] your Youth observd the Golden Rule

  Till [hes] youre at last become the [old] golden fool

  I sport with Fortune Merry Blithe & Gay

  Like to the Lion Sporting with his Prey

  [He has] Take [thou] you the hide & horns which [he may/thou maist] you may wear

  Mine is the flesh the bones may be [his/thy] your Share

  [Mr CROMEK TO] Mr STOTHARD TO

  MT CROMEK

  For Fortunes favours you your riches bring

  But Fortune says she gave you no such thing

  Why should you be ungrateful to your friends

  Sneaking & [Calumny] Backbiting & Odds & Ends

  Mr CROMEK TO Mr STOTHARD

  Fortune favours the Brave old Proverbs say

  But not with Money. that is not the way

  Turn back turn back you travel all in vain

  Turn thro the iron gate down Sneaking lane

  *

  I am no Homers Hero you all know

  I profess not Generosity to a Foe

  My Generosity is to my Friends

  That for their Friendship I may make amends.

  The Generous to Enemies promotes their Ends

  And becomes the Enemy & Betrayer of his Friends

  *

  The Angel that presided oer my birth

  Said Little creature [thou art formd for] formd of Joy & Mirth

  Go love without the help of any [Thing] King on Earth

  FLORENTINE INGRATITUDE

  Sir Joshua sent his own Portrait to

  The birth Place of Michael Angelo

  And in the hand of the simpering fool

  He put a Dirty paper scroll

  And on the paper to be polite

  Did Sketches by Michael Angelo write

  [They said Thus Learning & Politeness from England we fetch

  (We thought Michael Angelo did never sketch)

  For no good Artist Will or Can sketch

  10 And tis English Politeness as fair as my Aunt

  To (say) speak Michael Angelo & (mean) Act Rembrand

  To Say Write Michael Angelo & mean Rembrandt]

  The Florentines said Tis a Dutch English bore

  Michael Angelos Name writ on Rembrandts door

  The Florentines call it an English Fetch

  For Michael Angelo did never Sketch

  Every line of his has Meaning

  And needs neither Suckling nor Weaning

  20 [Is this Politeness or is it Cant]

  Tis the trading English Venetian Cant

  To speak Michael Angelo & Act Rembrandt

  It will set his Dutch friends all in a roar

  To write Mch Ang on Rembrandts Door

  But You must not bring in your hand a Lie

  If you mean [the Florentines to] that the Florentines should buy

  Ghiottos Circle or Apelles Line

  Were not the Work of Sketchers drunk with Wine

  Nor of the City Clarks merry hearted Fashion

  30 Nor of Sir Isaac Newtons Calculation

  Nor of the City Clarks Idle Facilities

  Which sprang from Sir Isaac Newtons great Abilities

  These Verses were written by a very Envious Man

  Who whatever likeness he may have to Michael Angelo

  Never can have any to Sir Jehoshuan

  A [PITIABLE] PITIFUL CASE

  The Villain at the Gallows tree

  When he is doomd to die

  To assuage his misery

  In Virtues praise does cry

  So Reynolds when he came to die

  To assuage his bitter woe:

  Thus aloud [was heard to] did howl & cry

  Michael Angelo Michael Angelo

  TO THE ROYAL ACADEMY

  A strange Erratum in all the Editions

  Of Sir Joshua Reynoldss Lectures

  Shou[l]d be corrected by the Young Gentlemen

  And the Royal Academys Directors

  Instead of Michael Angelo

  Read Rembrandt [(&you will know] for it is fit

  [That Sir Joshua never wishd to speak

  Of Michael Angelo]

  10 To make [either sense or] meer common honesty

  In all that he has writ

  *

  If it is True What the Prophets write

  That the heathen Gods are all stocks & stones

  Shall we for the sake of being Polite

  Feed them with the juice of our marrow bones

  And if Bezaleel & Aholiab drew

  What the Finger of God pointed to their View

  Shall we suffer the Roman & Grecian Rods

  To compell us to worship them as Gods

  They stole them from the Temple of the Lord

  10 And Worshippd them [to] that they might make Inspired

  Art Abhorrd

  The Wood & Stone were calld The Holy Things

  And their Sublime Intent given to their Kings

  All the Atonements of Jehovah spurnd

  And Criminals to Sacrifices Turnd

  [TO] ON F[LAXMAN] & S[TOTHARD]

  I found [thee] them blind I taught [thee] how to see

  And now [thou knowst] they know neither [thyself] themselves nor me

  Tis Excellent to turn a thorn to a pin

  A[Knave] Fool to a bolt a [Foo
l] Knave to a glass of gin

  *

  P[hillips] loved me, not as he lovd his Friends

  For he lovd them for gain to serve his Ends

  [But] He lovd me [but] and for no Gain at all

  But to rejoice & triumph in my fall

  *

  To forgive Enemies H[ayley] does pretend

  Who never in his Life forgave a friend

  TO F[LAXMAN]

  You call me Mad tis Folly to do so

  To seek to turn a Madman to a Foe

  If you think as you speak you are an Ass

  If you do not you are [just] but what you was

  ON H[AYLE]YS FRIENDSHIP

  When H—y finds out what you cannot do

  That is the very thing hell set you to

  If you break not your Neck tis not his fault

  [A peck of poisons] But pecks of poison are not pecks of salt

  And when he could not act upon my wife

  Hired a Villain to bereave my Life

  *

  Some Men created for destruction come

  Into the World & make the World their home

  [Friend Caiaphas is one do what he can]

  Be they as Vile & Base as Eer they can

  [Hell] Theyll still be called ‘Worlds’ honest man

  ON S[TOTHARD]

  You say reserve & modesty he has

  [His] Whose heart is iron his head wood & his face brass

  The Fox the Owl the Beetle & the Bat

  [On] By sweet reserve & modesty [feed Fat] get Fat

  IMITATION OF POPE A COMPLIMENT TO THE LADIES

  Wondrous the Gods more wondrous are the Men

  More Wondrous Wondrous still the Cock & Hen

  More Wondrous still the Table Stool & Chair

  But Ah I More wondrous still the Charming Fair

  TO H[AYLEY]

  Thy Friendship oft has made my heart to ake

  Do be my Enemy for Friendships sake

  *

  Cosway Frazer & Baldwin of Egypts Lake

  Fear to associate with Blake

  This Life is a Warfare against Evils

  They heal the sick he casts out devils

  Hayley Flaxman & Stothard are also in doubt

  Lest their Virtue should be put to the rout

  One grins[one] tother spits & in corners hides

  And all the [Righteous] Virtuous have shewn their backsides

  AN EPITAPH

  Come knock your heads against this stone

  For sorrow that poor John Thompsons gone

  ANOTHER

  I was buried near this Dike

  That my Friends may weep as much as they like

  ANOTHER

  Here lies John Trot the Friend of all mankind

  He has not left one Enemy behind

  Friends were quite hard to find old authors say

  But now they stand in every bodies way

  *

  My title as an [Artist] Genius thus is provd

 

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