I wandered through each chartered street, Near where the chartered Thames does flow, A mark in every face I meet, Marks of weakness, marks of woe.In every cry of every man, In every infant’s cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forged manacles I hear:How the chimney-sweeper’s cry Every blackening church appals, … Continue reading ‘London’ by William Blake
Little Fly, Thy summer’s play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance And drink, and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength and breath And the want Of thought is … Continue reading ‘The Fly’ by William Blake
Thou fair-hair’d angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed! Smile on our loves, and while thou drawest the Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew On every flower that shuts its … Continue reading ‘To the evening star’ by William Blake