The Human Abstract |
[May. 19th, 2008|09:42 am] |
The Human Abstract, by William Blake
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.
And mutual fear brings Peace, Till the selfish loves increase; Then Cruelty knits a snare, And spreads his baits with care.
He sits down with holy fears, And waters the ground with tears; Then Humility takes its root Underneath his foot.
Soon spreads the dismal shade Of Mystery over his head, And the caterpillar and fly Feed on the Mystery.
And it bears the fruit of Deceit, Ruddy and sweet to eat, And the raven his nest has made In its thickest shade.
The gods of the earth and sea Sought through nature to find this tree, But their search was all in vain: There grows one in the human Brain. |
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The Tiger |
[Mar. 21st, 2008|06:50 am] |
Here is another well-known poem. I will be doing the more commonly recognized poems at first, and then moving on to the more unusual one.
The Tiger Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And, when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
-William Blake |
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