Poems begining by T
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Three Things to Remember
© William Blake
A Robin Redbreast in a cage,
Puts all Heaven in a rage. A skylark wounded on the wing
Doth make a cherub cease to sing. He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men.
The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
© William Blake
Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burdend air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep
To Nobodaddy
© William Blake
Why art thou silent & invisible
Father of jealousy
Why dost thou hide thyself in clouds
From every searching Eye
The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (excerpt)
© William Blake
In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.
Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of the dead.
The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.
Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid courted by Incapacity.
The Voice Of The Ancient Bard
© William Blake
Youth of delight come hither.
And see the opening morn,
Image of truth new born.
Doubt is fled & clouds of reason.
The Shepherd
© William Blake
How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot,
From the morn to the evening he strays:
He shall follow his sheep all the day
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.
The Blossom
© William Blake
Merry Merry Sparrow
Under leaves so green
A happy Blossom
Sees you swift as arrow
Seek your cradle narrow
Near my Bosom.
The Little Girl Lost
© William Blake
In futurity
I prophesy see.
That the earth from sleep.
(Grave the sentence deep)
The Little Girl Found
© William Blake
All the night in woe,
Lyca's parents go:
Over vallies deep.
While the desarts weep.
To Tirzah
© William Blake
Whate'er is Born of Mortal Birth,
Must be consumed with the Earth
To rise from Generation free:
Then what have I to do with thee?
The Clod & The Pebble
© William Blake
Love seeketh not Itself to please.
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease.
And builds a Heaven in Hells despair.
The Little Boy Found
© William Blake
The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wand'ring light,
Began to cry, but God ever nigh,
Appeared like his father in white.
The Lilly
© William Blake
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn:
The humble Sheep. a threatning horn:
While the Lily white, shall in Love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright
The Little Vagabond
© William Blake
Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold,
But the Ale-house is healthy & pleasant & warm:
Besides I can tell where I am use'd well,
Such usage in heaven will never do well.
The Divine Image
© William Blake
To Mercy Pity Peace and Love.
All pray in their distress:
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
The Little Boy Lost
© William Blake
Nought loves another as itself
Nor venerates another so.
Nor is it possible to Thought
A greater than itself to know:
The Angel
© William Blake
I Dreamt a Dream! what can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen:
Guarded by an Angel mild;
Witless woe, was neer beguil'd!
The Human Abstract
© William Blake
Pity would be no more,
If we did not make somebody Poor;
And Mercy no more could be.
If all were as happy as we;
The Little Black Boy
© William Blake
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white.
White as an angel is the English child:
But I am black as if bereav'd of light.
