The Portable William Blake (67 page)

Read The Portable William Blake Online

Authors: William Blake

BOOK: The Portable William Blake
10.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Raine, Kathleen. “Blake’s Debt to Antiquity,”
Sewanee Reciew,
LXXI (1963), 352-450. ,
Saurat, Denis.
Blake and Modern Thought.
London, 1929.
Schorer, Mark.
William Blake. The Politics of Vision.
New York, 1946. A valuable study of Blake’s radical background.
Swinburne, Algernon Charles.
William Blake.
London, 1868.
White, Helen C.
The Mysticism of William Blake.
Madison, Wise., 1927.
Wicksteed, Joseph H.
Blake’s Innocence and Experience.
London, 1928.
AILEEN WARD
INDEX
OF TITLES AND FIRST LINES OF POEMS
A Cradle Song
A Divine Image
A Dream
A fairy leapt upon my knee
A flower was offer’d to me
A little black thing among the snow
A Little Boy Lost
A little Flower grew in a lonely Vale.
A Little Girl Lost
A murderous Providence! A Creation that groans, living on Death
A Pair of Stays to mend the Shape
A petty Sneaking Knave I knew
A Pitiful Case
A Poison Tree
A Pretty Epigram
Abstinence sows sand all over
Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time
Ah! weak & wide astray ! Ah! shut in narrow doleful form!
Alas!—The time will come when a man’s worst enemies
All Pictures that’s Painted with Sense & with Thought
All the night in woe
All things acted on Earth are seen in the bright Sculptures of
An Ancient Proverb
An Answer. to the Parson
An old maid early—e’er. I knew
And all Nations wept in affliction, Family by Family
And did those feet in ancient time
And he said: “Wherefore do I feel such love & pity?
And I beheld the Twenty-four Cities of Albion
And in the North Gate, in the West of the North, toward Beulah
And it is thus Created. Lo, the Eternal Great Humanity
And Los beheld his Sons and he beheld his Daughters
And Los prayed and said, “0 Divine Saviour, arise
And Los stood & cried to the Labourers of the Vintage in voice of awe
And this is the manner of the Sons of Albion in their strength
And This is the Song sung at The Feast of Los & Enitharmon
And thus began the binding of Urizen; day & night in fear
And Urizen Read in his book of brass in sounding tones
And where Luther ends Adam begins the Eternal Circle
Anger & Wrath my bosom rends
Another
Are not the joys of morning sweeter
Around the Springs of Gray my wild root weaves
As I wander’d the forest
As the Ignorant Savage will sell his own Wife
As the Pilgrim passes while the Country permanent remains
Auguries of Innocence
Awake, awake, my little Boy!
Behold, in the Visions of Elohim Jehovah, behold Joseph & Mary
Blake’s Apology for His Catalogue
But turning toward Ololon in terrible majesty Milton
Call that the Public Voice which is their Error
Can I see another’s woe
Can there be any thing more mean
Children of the future Age
Come hither, my boy, tell me what thou seest there.
Come hither my sparrows
Comethou Lamb of God, and take away the remembrance of Sin
Cosway, Frazer & Baldwin of Egypt’s Lake
C[romek] loves artists, as he loves his Meat
Cromek Speaks
Cruelty has a Human Heart
Darkness & sorrow cover’d all flesh. Eternity was darken’d
Daughters of Beulah! Muses who inspire the Poet’s Song
Day
Dear Mother, dear Mother, the church is cold
Dedication of the Illustrations to Blair’s Grave
Degrade first the Arts if you’d Mankind Degrade
Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
Dryden in Rhyme cries, “Milton only Planned.”
Each Man is in his Spectre’s power
Earth rais’d up her head
Earth’s Answer
England! awake! awake! awake!
English Encouragement
of Art
Enion brooded o’er the rocks; the rough rocks groaning vegetate
Enion said: “Thy fear has made me tremble, thy terrors have surrounded me
Eno, aged Mother
Enslav d, the Daughters of Albion weep; a trembling lamentation
Epitaph
Eternity
Father! father! where are you going?
Five windows light the cavern’ d Man: thro’ one he breathes the air
Florentine Ingratitude
For all are Men in Eternity, Rivers, Mountains, Cities, Villages
For this is being a Friend just in the nick
Fresh from the dewy hill, the merry year
From every-one of the Four Regions of Human Majesty
Fuzon on a chariot iron-wing’ d
Give Pensions to the Learned Pig
Great things are done with Men & Mountains meet
Grown old in Love from Seven till Seven times Seven
Having given great offence by writing in Prose
He has observ’d the Golden Rule
He makes the Lame to walk we all agree
He’s a Blockhead who wants a proof of what he can’t Perceive
He who binds to himself a joy
Hear the voice of the Bard!
Her whole Life is an Epigram, smart, smooth, & neatly pen’d&
Here lies John Trot, the Friend of all mankind
His limbs bound down mock at his chains, for over them a flame
Hoarse turn’d the Starry Wheels rending a way in Albion’s Loins
Holy Thursday
How are the Wars of man, which in Great Eternity
How sweet I roam’d from field to field
How sweet is the Shepherd’s sweet lot!
I also stood in Satan’s bosom & beheld its desolations
I always take my judgment from a Fool
I am made to sow the thistle for wheat, the nettle for a nourishing dainty
I am no Homer’s Hero, you all know
I am that Shadowy Prophet who Six Thousand Years ago
I am your Rational Power Albion & that Human Form
I asked a thief to steal me a peach
I bless theeFather of Heaven & Earth, that ever I saw Flaxman’s face.
I call them by their English names: English, the rough basement
“I diediet” the Mother said
I dreamt a Dream ! what can it mean?
I fear’d the fury of my wind
I found them blind: I taught them how to see
I give you the end of a golden string
I have no name
I hear the screech of Childbirth loud pealing, & the groans
I heard an Angel singing
I laid me down upon a bank
I love the jocund dance
I love to rise in a summer mom
I loved Theotormon
I mock thee not, tho’ I by thee am Mocked
I must Create a System or be enslav’d by another Man’s
I rose up at the dawn of day
I, Rubens, am a Statesman & a Saint
I saw a chapel all of gold
I saw a Monk of Charlemaine
I seize the sphery harp. I strike the strings.
I stood among my valleys of the south
I travel’d thro’ a Land of Men
I walked abroad in a snowy day
I wander thro’ each charter’ d street
I was angry with my friend
I was buried near this Dike
I wash’d them out & wash’d them in
I went to the Garden of Love
I will sing you a song of Los, the Eternal Prophet
I wonder whether the Girls are mad
I write the Rascal Thanks till he & I
If I e’er Grow to Man’s Estate
If it is True, what the Prophets write
If Moral Virtue was Christianity
If Perceptive Organs vary, Objects of Perception seem to vary
If you account it Wisdom when you are angry to be silent and
If you have form’d a Circle to go into
If you mean to Please Every body you willof
If you play a Game of Chance, know
,
before you begin
If you trap the moment before it’s ripe
In a Mirtle Shade
In a wife I would desire
In every Nation of the Earth, till the Twelve Sons of Albion
In futurity
Infant Joy
Infant Sorrow
Is this a holy thing to see
It is easier to forgive an Enemy than to forgive a Friend
Jerusalem! Jerusalem! why why wilt thou turn away?
Lacedemonian Instruction
Laughing Song
Let the Brothels of Paris be opened
Lines for the Illustrations to Gray’s Poems
Little Fly
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Little Mary Bell had a Fairy in a Nut
Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
London
Long John Brown and Little Mary Bell
Los answer’d furious: “Art thou one of those who when most complacent
Los grew furious, raging: “Why stand we here trembling around
Los in his wrath curs’d heaven & earth; he rent up Nations
Los is by mortals nam’d Time, Enitharmon is nam’d Space
Los thus spoke: “O noble Sons, be patient yet a littlel
Loud sounds the Hammer of Los & loud his Bellows is heard
Love and harmony combine
Love seeketh not Itself to please
Love to faults is always blind
“Madman” I have been call’d: “Fool” they call thee
Mary
Memory, hither come
Merlin’s Prophecy
Merry, Merry Sparrow!
Milton entering my Foot saw in the nether
Milton’s Religion is the cause: there is no end to destruction
Mock on, Mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau
Morning
Motto to the Songs of Innocence
&´
Experience
Mutual Forgiveness of each Vice
My mother bore me in the southern wild
My mother groan’d! my father wept (Songs of Experience)
My mother groan’d, my father wept (
Verses and Fragments)
My Pretty Rose-Tree
My silks and fine array
My Spectre around me night & day
My title as a Genius thus is prov’d
Nail his neck to the Cross: nail it with a nail
Nature & Art in this together Suit
Never seek to tell thy love
Night
Nought loves another as itself
Now Albion’s sleeping Humanity began to turn upon his Couch
Now Art has lost its mental Charms
Nurse’s Song
O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
O holy virgin! clad in purest white
O lapwing, thou fliest around the heath
O Reader, behold the Philosopher’s Gravel
O rose, thou art sick!
“0 thou poor Human Form!” said she. “0 thou poor child of woel
O thou, who passest thro’ our vallies in
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
O what is Life & what is Man? O what is Death? Wherefore
O why was I born with a different face?
O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors
Of H[ayleyl’s birth this was the happy lot
Of the primeval Priest’s as-sum’ d power
Of the Sleep of Ulro! and of the passage through
On Another
’s
Sorrow
On F(laxman] and S[rothard]
On H[ayley] the Pick Thank
On S[tothard]
On the Great Encouragement
On the Virginity of the Virgin Mary & Johanna Southcott
Once a dream did weave a shade
Once Man was occupied in intellectual pleasures & energies
Our wars are wars of life, & wounds of love
P[hillips] loved me not as he lov’d his Friends
Piping down the valleys wild
Pity would be no more
Rafael Sublime, Majestic, Graceful, Wise
Reader! lover of books! lover of heaven
Remove away that black ’ning church
Riches
Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burden’d air
Scotland pours out his Sons to labour at the Furnaces
Silence remain’d & every one resum’d his Human Majesty
Silent, Silent Night
Since all the Riches of this World
Sir Joshua Praises Michael Angelo
Sir Joshua sent his own Portrait to
Sleep, Sleep, beauty bright
Some look to see the sweet Outlines
Some Men, created for destruction, come
Some people admire the work of a Fool
Soft Snow
Songs
Songs of Experience, Introduction
Songs of Innocence, Introduction
Sound the Flute!
Spring
Sweet dreams
,
form a shade
Sweet Mary, the first time she ever was there
Terror in the house does roar
That God is Colouring Newton does shew
The Angel
The Angel that presided o’er my birth
The Blossom
The blow of his Hammer is Justice, the swing of his Hammer Mercy

Other books

Licence to Dream by Anna Jacobs
Mi Carino by Sienna Mynx
One Good Soldier by Travis S. Taylor
Empire of Bones by N. D. Wilson
Winter's Passage by Julie Kagawa
The Stockholm Octavo by Karen Engelmann
Down Among the Gods by Kate Thompson