William Blake Poems

I heard an Angel Singing
When the day was springing:
'Mercy, pity, and peace,
Are the world's release.'
...

The wild winds weep
And the night is a-cold;
Come hither, Sleep,
...

Sound the flute!
Now it's mute!
Bird's delight,
Day and night,
...

As I wandered the forest,
The green leaves among,
I heard a Wild Flower
Singing a song.
...

In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.
Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of the dead.
The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.
Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid courted by Incapacity.
...

How sweet is the shepherd's sweet lot!
From the morn to the evening he strays;
He shall follow his sheep all the day,
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.
...

But in the Wine-presses the human grapes sing not nor dance:
They howl and writhe in shoals of torment, in fierce flames consuming,
In chains of iron and in dungeons circled with ceaseless fires,
In pits and dens and shades of death, in shapes of torment and woe:
...

Golden Apollo, that thro' heaven wide
Scatter'st the rays of light, and truth's beams,
In lucent words my darkling verses dight,
And wash my earthy mind in thy clear streams,
...

O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
...

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.
...