William Blake Quote
I am made to sow the thistle for wheat; the nettle for a nourishing daintyI have planted a false oath in the earth, it has brought forth a poison treeI have chosen the serpent for a councellor & the dog for a schoolmaster to my childrenI have blotted out from light & living the dove & the nightingaleAnd I have caused the earthworm to beg from door to door I have taught the thief a secret path into the house of the justI have taught pale artifice to spread his nets upon the morningMy heavens are brass my earth is iron my moon a clod of clayMy sun a pestilence burning at noon & a vapor of death in nightWhat is the price of Experience do men buy it for a song Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No it is bought with the priceOf all that a man hath his house his wife his childrenWisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buyAnd in the withered field where the farmer plows for bread in vainIt is an easy thing to triumph in the summers sun And in the vintage & to sing on the waggon loaded with cornIt is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflictedTo speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wandererTo listen to the hungry ravens cry in wintry seasonWhen the red blood is filled with wine & with the marrow of lambs It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elementsTo hear a dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moanTo see a god on every wind & a blessing on every blastTo hear the sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies houseTo rejoice in the blight that covers his field, & the sickness that cuts off his childrenWhile our olive & vine sing & laugh round our door & our children bring fruits and flowersThen the groans & the dolor are quite forgotten & the slave grinding at the millAnd the captive in chains & the poor in the prison, & the soldier in the fieldWhen the shattered bone hath laid him groaning among the happier deadIt is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity Thus could I sing & thus rejoice, but it is not so with me!
I am made to sow the thistle for wheat; the nettle for a nourishing daintyI have planted a false oath in the earth, it has brought forth a poison treeI have chosen the serpent for a councellor & the dog for a schoolmaster to my childrenI have blotted out from light & living the dove & the nightingaleAnd I have caused the earthworm to beg from door to door I have taught the thief a secret path into the house of the justI have taught pale artifice to spread his nets upon the morningMy heavens are brass my earth is iron my moon a clod of clayMy sun a pestilence burning at noon & a vapor of death in nightWhat is the price of Experience do men buy it for a song Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No it is bought with the priceOf all that a man hath his house his wife his childrenWisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buyAnd in the withered field where the farmer plows for bread in vainIt is an easy thing to triumph in the summers sun And in the vintage & to sing on the waggon loaded with cornIt is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflictedTo speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wandererTo listen to the hungry ravens cry in wintry seasonWhen the red blood is filled with wine & with the marrow of lambs It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elementsTo hear a dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moanTo see a god on every wind & a blessing on every blastTo hear the sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies houseTo rejoice in the blight that covers his field, & the sickness that cuts off his childrenWhile our olive & vine sing & laugh round our door & our children bring fruits and flowersThen the groans & the dolor are quite forgotten & the slave grinding at the millAnd the captive in chains & the poor in the prison, & the soldier in the fieldWhen the shattered bone hath laid him groaning among the happier deadIt is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity Thus could I sing & thus rejoice, but it is not so with me!
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About William Blake
Although Blake was considered mad by contemporaries for his idiosyncratic views, he came to be highly regarded by later critics and readers for his expressiveness and creativity, and for the philosophical and mystical undercurrents within his work. His paintings and poetry have been characterised as part of the Romantic movement and as "Pre-Romantic". A theist who preferred his own Marcionite style of theology, he was hostile to the Church of England (indeed, to almost all forms of organised religion), and was influenced by the ideals and ambitions of the French and American revolutions. Although later he rejected many of these political beliefs, he maintained an amicable relationship with the political activist Thomas Paine; he was also influenced by thinkers such as Emanuel Swedenborg. Despite these known influences, the singularity of Blake's work makes him difficult to classify. The 19th-century scholar William Michael Rossetti characterised him as a "glorious luminary", and "a man not forestalled by predecessors, nor to be classed with contemporaries, nor to be replaced by known or readily surmisable successors".