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O white-robed Angel, guide my timorous hand to write as on a lofty rock with iron pen the words of truth, that all who pass may read.

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
May
Rocks
Lofty
Writing
Hand
Pens
Read
Guide
Words
Iron
White
Guides
Write
Pass
Hands
Angel
Robed
Truth
Rock
Timorous

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And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love.
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The weak in courage is strong in cunning.
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Man has no Body distinct from his Soul for that called Body is a portion of Soul discerned by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age.
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Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine.
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O thou who passest through our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer, Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
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If you, who are organised by Divine Providence for spiritual communion, refuse, and bury your talent in the earth, even though you should want natural bread, sorrow and desperation pursue you through life, and after death shame and confusion of face to eternity.
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