William Blake

William Blake was born in London, England on November 28, 1757 and passed away on August 12, 1827 at the age of seventy.

In his youth William Blake was one who had different experiences that both of his parents tried to discourage him from "lying". He claimed that he had visions of angels and ghostly monks as well as he claimed that he conversed and saw the angel Gabriel, the Virgin Mary and various other historical figures.

At an early age William expressed the desire to become a painter and his parents sent him to drawing school. When he was twelve he began to write poetry and at age fourteen he apprenticed with an engraver because art school was becoming too costly.

In 1782 he married an illiterate lady named Catherine Boucher with whom he taught her to read and write as well as instructed her in draftsmanship. Together she helped him print the illuminated poetry for which he is remembered today. As a couple, William and Cathy never had any children.

With the poetry of William Blake his romantic poetry never became popular till after his death in 1827. The following are some of the popular romantic poems of William Blake.

The Angel

I dreamt a dream! What can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen
Guarded by an Angel mild:
Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!

And I wept both night and day,
And he wiped my tears away;
And I wept both day and night,
And hid from him my heart's delight.

So he took his wings, and fled;
Then the morn blushed rosy red.
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten-thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again;
I was armed, he came in vain;
For the time of youth was fled,
And grey hairs were on my head.

The Clod and the Pebble

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.

So sang a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet;
But a Pebble of the brook,
Warbled out these metres meet.

Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to Its delight:
Joys in anothers loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

Broken Love

MY Spectre around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way;
My Emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.

�A fathomless and boundless deep,
There we wander, there we weep;
On the hungry craving wind
My Spectre follows thee behind.

�He scents thy footsteps in the snow
Wheresoever thou dost go,
Thro� the wintry hail and rain.
When wilt thou return again?

�Dost thou not in pride and scorn
Fill with tempests all my morn,
And with jealousies and fears
Fill my pleasant nights with tears?

�Seven of my sweet loves thy knife
Has bereav�d of their life.
Their marble tombs I built with tears,
And with cold and shuddering fears.

Seven more loves weep night and day
Round the tombs where my loves lay,
And seven more loves attend each night
Around my couch with torches bright.

�And seven more loves in my bed
Crown with wine my mournful head,
Pitying and forgiving all
Thy transgressions great and small.

�When wilt thou return and view
My loves, and them to life renew?
When wilt thou return and live?
When wilt thou pity as I forgive?�

�O�er my sins thou sit and moan:
Hast thou no sins of thy own?
O�er my sins thou sit and weep,
And lull thy own sins fast asleep.

�What transgressions I commit
Are for thy transgressions fit.
They thy harlots, thou their slave;
And my bed becomes their grave.

�Never, never, I return:
Still for victory I burn.
Living, thee alone I�ll have;
And when dead I�ll be thy grave.

�Thro� the Heaven and Earth and Hell
Thou shalt never, quell:
I will fly and thou pursue:
Night and morn the flight renew.�

�Poor, pale, pitiable form
That I follow in a storm;
Iron tears and groans of lead
Bind around my aching head.

�Till I turn from Female love
And root up the Infernal Grove,
I shall never worthy be
To step into Eternity.

�And, to end thy cruel mocks,
Annihilate thee on the rocks,
And another form create
To be subservient to my fate.

�Let us agree to give up love,
And root up the Infernal Grove;
Then shall we return and see
The worlds of happy Eternity.

�And throughout all Eternity
I forgive you, you forgive me.
As our dear Redeemer said:
�This the Wine, and this the Bread.��

Poetry by Lord Byron
Poetry by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Poetry by John Keats
Poetry by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Poetry by William Wordsworth

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