William Blake

(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827 / London)

William Blake Poems

1. The Rhine Was Red. 4/17/2015
2. The Fairy 3/2/2015
3. The Smile 2/9/2015
4. The Invocation 3/30/2010
5. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Viii 1/3/2003
6. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Vii 1/3/2003
7. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Vi 1/3/2003
8. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Iv 1/3/2003
9. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Iii 1/3/2003
10. When Klopstock England Defied 1/3/2003
11. The Caverns Of The Grave I'Ve Seen 1/3/2003
12. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Ix 1/3/2003
13. The Sky Is An Immortal Tent Built By The Sons Of Los 1/1/2004
14. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter V 1/3/2003
15. The Book Of Urizen (Excerpts) 5/9/2001
16. The Book Of Urizen: Preludium 1/3/2003
17. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Ii 1/3/2003
18. Why Should I Care For The Men Of Thames 1/3/2003
19. The Four Zoas (Excerpt) 5/9/2001
20. To Thomas Butts 1/1/2004
21. The Song Of Los 1/3/2003
22. The French Revolution (Excerpt) 5/9/2001
23. The Crystal Cabinet 5/9/2001
24. The New Jerusalem 5/10/2001
25. I See The Four-Fold Man 1/1/2004
26. Preludium To Europe 5/9/2001
27. Song 5/9/2001
28. The Question Answered 5/10/2001
29. Reeds Of Innocence 1/3/2003
30. To The Accuser Who Is The God Of This World 1/3/2003
31. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter I 1/3/2003
32. To Morning 1/3/2003
33. The Book Of Thel 5/9/2001
34. Jerusalem: I See The Four-Fold Man, The Humanity In Deadly Sleep 5/9/2001
35. Silent, Silent Night 5/9/2001
36. If It Is True What The Prophets Write 1/3/2003
37. Milton: But In The Wine-Presses The Human Grapes Sing Not Nor Dance 5/9/2001
38. I Saw A Chapel 5/9/2001
39. Samson 1/3/2003
40. Now Art Has Lost Its Mental Charms 1/3/2003
Best Poem of William Blake

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 and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
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 veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

Read the full of A Poison Tree

Why Was Cupid A Boy

Why was Cupid a boy,
And why a boy was he?
He should have been a girl,
For aught that I can see.

For he shoots with his bow,
And the girl shoots with her eye,
And they both are merry and glad,
And laugh when we do cry.

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