William Blake Poems

Pity would be no more
If we did not make somebody Poor;
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we.
...

When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise
...

The Sun arises in the East,
Cloth'd in robes of blood and gold;
Swords and spears and wrath increast
All around his bosom roll'd
...

Can I see another's woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another's grief,
...

Preludium

The shadowy Daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc,
When fourteen suns had faintly journey'd o'er his dark abode:
His food she brought in iron baskets, his drink in cups of iron:
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My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but oh my soul is white!
White as an angel is the English child,
...

You don't believe - I won't attempt to make ye:
You are asleep - I won't attempt to wake ye.
Sleep on! sleep on! while in your pleasant dreams
Of Reason you may drink of Life's clear streams.
...

There is a Smile of Love
And there is a Smile of Deceit
And there is a Smile of Smiles
...

Earth raised up her head
From the darkness dread and drear,
Her light fled,
...

To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love,
All pray in their distress,
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
...