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I heard an Angel singing When the day was springing, Mercy, Pity, Peace Is the world's release.

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
Angel
Singing
Heard
Peace
Springing
World
Release
Pity
Mercy

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Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold, But the Ale-house is healthy and pleasant and warm.
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Embraces are comminglings from the head even to the feet, And not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place.
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The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow, nor the lion, the horse, how he shall take his prey.
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He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.
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He who binds to himself a joy Does the winged life destroy But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity's sun rise.
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The foundation of empire is art and science. Remove them or degrade them, and the empire is no more. Empire follows art and not vice versa as Englishmen suppose.
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Such, such were the joys When we all, girls and boys, In our youth time were seen On the Echoing Green.
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Man was made for joy and woe, and when this we rightly know through the world we safely go. Joy and woe are woven fine, a clothing for the soul to bind.
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Let every Christian, as much as in him lies, engage himself openly and publicly, before all the World, in some mental pursuit for the Building up of Jerusalem.
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If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thru chinks of his cavern.
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Opposition is true friendship.
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What has reason to do with the art of painting?
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What is grand is necessarily obscure to weak men. That which can be made explicit to the idiot is not worth my care.
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How sweet I roamed from field to field, And tasted all the summer's pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide!
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But to go to school in a summer morn, O! It drives all joy away Under a cruel eye outworn, The little ones spend the day In sighing and dismay.
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Shame is pride's cloak.
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Children of the future age Reading this indignant page Know that in a former time Love, sweet love, was thought a crime
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Nature in darkness groans and men are bound to sullen contemplation in the night: restless they turn on beds of sorrow in their inmost brain feeling the crushing wheels, they rise, they write the bitter words of stern philosophy and knead the bread of knowledge with tears and groans.
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Mere enthusiasm is the all in all... / Passion and expression are beauty itself.
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I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall.
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