Life of William Blake, "Pictor Ignotus": With Selections from His Poems and Other Writings |
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Page v
... form a shade . THE DIVINE IMAGE . To mercy , pity , peace , and love . HOLY THURSDAY . ' Twas on a Holy Thursday , their innocent faces clean 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 33 34 35 36 37 PAGE NIGHT . The sun descending in the West .
... form a shade . THE DIVINE IMAGE . To mercy , pity , peace , and love . HOLY THURSDAY . ' Twas on a Holy Thursday , their innocent faces clean 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 33 34 35 36 37 PAGE NIGHT . The sun descending in the West .
Page 4
... face is fair as heaven When springing buds unfold ; Oh , why to him was ' t given , Whose heart is wintry cold ? His breast is Love's all - worshipped tomb Where all love's pilgrims come . Bring me an axe and spade , Bring me a winding ...
... face is fair as heaven When springing buds unfold ; Oh , why to him was ' t given , Whose heart is wintry cold ? His breast is Love's all - worshipped tomb Where all love's pilgrims come . Bring me an axe and spade , Bring me a winding ...
Page 14
... face was t'other way . Now , Kitty , now ! what chance hast thou ! Roger so near thee trips ! -I vow She catches him ! -then Roger ties His own head up , but not his eyes ; For thro ' the slender cloth he sees , And runs at Sam , who ...
... face was t'other way . Now , Kitty , now ! what chance hast thou ! Roger so near thee trips ! -I vow She catches him ! -then Roger ties His own head up , but not his eyes ; For thro ' the slender cloth he sees , And runs at Sam , who ...
Page 18
... face : I told him that he look'd like a candle half Burn'd out . He answer'd he was pig enough To light another pattle . ' Last night beneath The moon I walk'd abroad when all had pitch'd Their tents , and all were still : I heard a ...
... face : I told him that he look'd like a candle half Burn'd out . He answer'd he was pig enough To light another pattle . ' Last night beneath The moon I walk'd abroad when all had pitch'd Their tents , and all were still : I heard a ...
Page 21
... the vault of heav'n , and shake The gates of hell ! Oh Dagworth ! France is sick : The very sky , tho ' sunshine light it , seems To me as pale as the pale fainting man . On his death - bed , whose face is shown POETICAL SKETCHES . 21.
... the vault of heav'n , and shake The gates of hell ! Oh Dagworth ! France is sick : The very sky , tho ' sunshine light it , seems To me as pale as the pale fainting man . On his death - bed , whose face is shown POETICAL SKETCHES . 21.
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Common terms and phrases
Adam and Eve Alex ancient angels appears Artist babe beautiful beneath Butts Caiaphas called Capaneus Capt character Chaucer Christ cloud colour Colour-printed Correggio Court Strand Dante dark Death delight devils divine doth drawing earth engraved envy eternal execution expression eyes face father fear Felpham female figures finished fire flames Gilchrist Giulio Romano grand Grave ground hand Harvey head heaven Hell Henry Baillie Holy human Indian ink infant invention kneeling labour Last Judgment light Linnell look Mary Michael Angelo morning naked never night Painter painting Palser picture Plates poem printed Prophetic Books Raphael Rembrandt represented Rubens Satan seen serpent sketch sleep smile song soul spirit Strange sweet tears Tempera thee things Thomas Dagworth thou Titian tree Virgin vision water-colour weep wife Wife of Bath WILLIAM BLAKE woman Woolett young youth
Popular passages
Page 206 - When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, "Woman, behold thy son!" Then saith he to the disciple, "Behold thy mother!" And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.
Page 65 - I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I water'd it in fears, Night & morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright; And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole When the night had...
Page 63 - I wander thro' each charter'd street Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And 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-forg'd manacles I hear: How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls, And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls; But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear.
Page 227 - And when they had sung an hymn, they went out into the mount of Olives. And Jesus saith unto them, All ye shall be offended because of me this night : for it is written, I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered. But after that I am risen, I will go before you into Galilee.
Page 61 - I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not...
Page 94 - The hand of Vengeance found the bed To which the purple tyrant fled; The iron hand crush'd the tyrant's head, And became a tyrant in his stead.' Auguries of Innocence 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 dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons Shudders Hell thro
Page 105 - Mock on' Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau; Mock on, mock on: 'tis all in vain! You throw the sand against the wind, And the wind blows it back again. And every sand becomes a gem, Reflected in the beams divine. Blown back they blind the mocking eye, But still in Israel's paths they shine.
Page 59 - 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?
Page 60 - AH! SUN-FLOWER Ah, sun-flower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey is done: Where the youth pined away with desire, And the pale virgin shrouded in snow Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sun-flower wishes to go.
Page 96 - 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. We are led to Believe a Lie When we see not Thro...