William Blake (1757 – 1827)
English poet, Christian mystic, painter, printmaker, and engraver.
Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a heaven in hell’s despair.
The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow.
Art is the tree of life.
SCIENCE is the Tree of DEATH
ART is the Tree of LIFE GOD is JESUS
Man was made for joy and woe,
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
There can be no Good Will. Will is always Evil; it is persecution to others or selfishness.
Reason, or the ratio of all we have already known, is not the same that it shall be when we know more.
Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding sheet.
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
in the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
The vision of Christ that thou dost see
Is my vision's greatest enemy.
Prisons are built with stones of law, brothels with bricks of religion.
There is a smile of love,
And there is a smile of deceit,
And there is a smile of smiles
In which these two smiles meet.
Cruelty has a human heart,
And Jealousy a human face;
Terror the human form divine,
And Secrecy the human dress.
The iron hand crush'd the Tyrant's head
And became a Tyrant in his stead.
The weak in courage is strong in cunning.
And did those feet in ancient time,
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic mills?
Bring me my Bow of burning gold,
Bring me my Arrows of desire,
Bring me my Spear—O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green & pleasant land.
For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity, a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
Rintrah roars and shakes his fires in the burdened air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.
Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.