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I cry, Love! Love! Love! happy happy Love! free as the mountain wind!

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
Mountain
Wind
Happy
Free
Love
Cry

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Sooner strangle an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.
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Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves the feet of angels bright unseen they pour blessing, and joy without ceasing, on each bud and blossom, and each sleeping bosom.
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The worship of God is, Honouring his gifts in other men each according to his genius, and loving the greatest men best those who envy or calumniate great men hate God, for there is no other God.
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Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,Dreaming o'er the joys of night.Sleep, sleep: in thy sleepLittle sorrows sit and weep.
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To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love All pray in their distress, And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness.
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To be an Error and to be Cast out is a part of God's Design.
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Then my verse I dishonor, my pictures despise, my person degrade and my temper chastise and the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame and my talents I bury, and dead is my fame.
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He who wants, but doesn't act, is a pest.
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Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
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Those who enter the gates of heaven are not beings who have no passions or who have curbed the passions, but those who have cultivated an understanding of them.
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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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Naught can deform the human race Like to the armor's iron brace.
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The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:While the Lily white shall in love delight,Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
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The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.
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Angels are happier than men and devils, because they are not always prying after good and evil in one another, and eating the tree of knowledge for Satan's gratification.
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Energy is eternal delight.
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The little ones leaped, and shouted, and laugh'd And all the hills echoed
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Imitation is criticism.
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Prisons are built with stones of Law. Brothels with the bricks of religion.
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The pure soul shall mount on native wings, . . . and cut a path into the heaven of glory.
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