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 Chimney-Sweeper: When My Mother Died I Was Very Young 12/31/2002
7. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Iv 1/3/2003
8. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Iii 1/3/2003
9. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter V 1/3/2003
10. The Book Of Urizen (Excerpts) 5/9/2001
11. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Vi 1/3/2003
12. The Book Of Urizen: Preludium 1/3/2003
13. The French Revolution (Excerpt) 5/9/2001
14. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Ix 1/3/2003
15. The Four Zoas (Excerpt) 5/9/2001
16. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Vii 1/3/2003
17. The Sky Is An Immortal Tent Built By The Sons Of Los 1/1/2004
18. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter I 1/3/2003
19. The Book Of Urizen: Chapter Ii 1/3/2003
20. When Klopstock England Defied 1/3/2003
21. Preludium To Europe 5/9/2001
22. To Thomas Butts 1/1/2004
23. The New Jerusalem 5/10/2001
24. The Question Answered 5/10/2001
25. I See The Four-Fold Man 1/1/2004
26. The Caverns Of The Grave I'Ve Seen 1/3/2003
27. To The Accuser Who Is The God Of This World 1/3/2003
28. The Song Of Los 1/3/2003
29. If It Is True What The Prophets Write 1/3/2003
30. Jerusalem: I See The Four-Fold Man, The Humanity In Deadly Sleep 5/9/2001
31. Milton: But In The Wine-Presses The Human Grapes Sing Not Nor Dance 5/9/2001
32. The Grey Monk 5/10/2001
33. To Morning 1/3/2003
34. To Tirzah 1/3/2003
35. But In The Wine-Presses The Human Grapes Sing Not Nor Dance 1/1/2004
36. Gwin King Of Norway 1/3/2003
37. Silent, Silent Night 5/9/2001
38. Jerusalem: England! Awake! Awake! Awake! 5/9/2001
39. Reeds Of Innocence 1/3/2003
40. The Crystal Cabinet 5/9/2001
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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