Quote

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 death Then am I A happy fly If I live Or if I die

William Blake

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William Blake
Age: 69 †
Born: 1757
Born: November 28
Died: 1827
Died: August 12
Collector
Engraver
Graphic Artist
Illustrator
Lithographer
Painter
Philosopher
Poet
Printer
Theologian
London
England
W. Blake
Uil'iam Bleik
Blake
Thought
Drink
Wing
Live
Strength
Till
Life
Shall
Breath
Hand
Breaths
Dies
Wings
Happy
Sing
Death
Blind
Brush
Hands
Dance
Brushes

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For the Eye altering alters all The Senses roll themselves in fear And the flat Earth becomes a Ball.
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The vision of Christ that thou dost see Is my vision's greatest enemy.
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Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so? He replied, All poets believe it does. And in ages of imagination, this firm persuasion removes mountains but many are not capable of firm persuasion of anything.
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How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing? How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring?
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As we are, so we see.
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Each man is haunted until his humanity awakens.
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Where there is money there is no art.
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One law for the lion and ox is oppression.
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A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage.
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What seems to be, is, to those to whom it seems to be, and is productive of the most dreadful consequences to those to whom it seems to be, even of torments, despair, eternal death.
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O God, protect me from my friends, that they have not power over me. Thou hast giv'n me power to protect myself from thy bitterest enemies.
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Every tear from every eyeBecomes a babe in eternity.
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The lamb misused breeds public strife And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
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Poetry fettered fetters the human race.
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They who forgive most shall be most forgiven.
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I have mental joys and mental health, Mental friends and mental wealth, I've a wife that I love and that loves me I've all but riches bodily.
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Imagination is the real and eternal world of which this vegetable universe is but a faint shadow.
William Blake
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Thinking as I do that the Creator of this world is a very cruel being, and being a worshipper of Christ, I cannot help saying: ''the Son, O how unlike the Father!'' First God Almighty comes with a thump on the head. Then Jesus Christ comes with a balm to heal it.
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Ah, sunflower, 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 sunflower wishes to go.
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I cry, Love! Love! Love! happy happy Love! free as the mountain wind!
William Blake