William Blake Quote

To see a World in a Grain of SandAnd a Heaven in a Wild Flower,Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.A Robin Redbreast in a CagePuts all Heaven in a Rage.A dove house fill’d with doves and pigeonsShudders Hell thro’ all its regions.A Dog starv’d at his Master’s GatePredicts the ruin of the State.A Horse misus’d upon the RoadCalls to Heaven for Human blood.Each outcry of the hunted HareA fiber from the Brain does tear.He who shall train the Horse to WarShall never pass the Polar Bar.The Beggar’s Dog and Widow’s Cat,Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.The Gnat that sings his Summer song Poison gets from Slander’s tongue.The poison of the Snake and NewtIs the sweat of Envy’s Foot.A truth that’s told with bad intentBeats all the Lies you can invent.It is right it should be so;Man was made for Joy and Woe;And when this we rightly knowThro’ the World we safely go.Every Night and every MornSome to Misery are Born.Every Morn and every NightSome are Born to sweet delight.Some are Born to sweet delight,Some are Born to Endless Night.- Before Bishop's SandPiper...

William Blake

To see a World in a Grain of SandAnd a Heaven in a Wild Flower,Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.A Robin Redbreast in a CagePuts all Heaven in a Rage.A dove house fill’d with doves and pigeonsShudders Hell thro’ all its regions.A Dog starv’d at his Master’s GatePredicts the ruin of the State.A Horse misus’d upon the RoadCalls to Heaven for Human blood.Each outcry of the hunted HareA fiber from the Brain does tear.He who shall train the Horse to WarShall never pass the Polar Bar.The Beggar’s Dog and Widow’s Cat,Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.The Gnat that sings his Summer song Poison gets from Slander’s tongue.The poison of the Snake and NewtIs the sweat of Envy’s Foot.A truth that’s told with bad intentBeats all the Lies you can invent.It is right it should be so;Man was made for Joy and Woe;And when this we rightly knowThro’ the World we safely go.Every Night and every MornSome to Misery are Born.Every Morn and every NightSome are Born to sweet delight.Some are Born to sweet delight,Some are Born to Endless Night.- Before Bishop's SandPiper...

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About William Blake

William Blake (28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827) was an English poet, painter, and printmaker. Largely unrecognised during his life, Blake is now considered a seminal figure in the history of the poetry and visual art of the Romantic Age. What he called his "prophetic works" were said by 20th-century critic Northrop Frye to form "what is in proportion to its merits the least read body of poetry in the English language". While he lived in London his entire life, except for three years spent in Felpham, he produced a diverse and symbolically rich collection of works, which embraced the imagination as "the body of God", or "human existence itself".
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".