To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand And eternity in an hour. ...
A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage. ...
A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state. ...
The game-cock clipped and armed for fight Does the rising sun affright. ...
He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be beloved by men. ...
Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the Last Judgment draweth nigh. ...
A truth that's told with bad intent Beats all the lies you can invent. ...
Man was made for joy and woe; And when this we rightly know Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine. ...
The poor man's farthing is worth more Than all the gold on Afric's shore. One mite wrung from the labourer's hands Shall buy and sell the miser's lands ...
He who shall teach the child to doubt The rotting grave shall ne'er get out. He who respects the infant's faith Triumphs over hell and death.
The questioner who sits so sly Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt Doth put the light of knowledge out. ...
He who doubts from what he sees Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt, They'd immediately go out. ...
Every night and every morn Some to misery are born. Every morn and every night Some are born to sweet delight. Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night.
God appears, and God is light To those poor souls who dwell in night, But does a human form display To those who dwell in realms of day.
To see a world in a grain of sand
ReplyDeleteAnd a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour. ...
A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage. ...
A dog starved at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state. ...
The game-cock clipped and armed for fight
Does the rising sun affright. ...
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men. ...
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh. ...
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent. ...
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine. ...
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.
One mite wrung from the labourer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands ...
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out. ...
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out. ...
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
God appears, and God is light
To those poor souls who dwell in night,
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.
“Auguries of Innocence” [Selected Snippets]
~ William Blake (1757-1827)