William Blake
William Blake
William Blakewas an English poet, painter, and printmaker. Largely unrecognised during his lifetime, Blake is now considered a seminal figure in the history of the poetry and visual arts of the Romantic Age. His prophetic works have been said to form "what is in proportion to its merits the least read body of poetry in the English language". His visual artistry led one contemporary art critic to proclaim him "far and away the greatest artist Britain has ever produced". In...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPhilosopher
Date of Birth28 November 1757
The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow, nor the lion the horse, how he shall take his prey.
He who shall teach the child to doubt / The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
The selfish smiling fool, and the sullen frowning fool, shall be both thought wise, that they may be a rod.
Father! father! where are you going? / O do not walk so fast. / Speak, father, speak to your little boy, / Or else I shall be lost.
A man's worst enemies are thoseOf his own house and family;And he who makes his law a curse,By his own law shall surely die.
The harlot's cry from street to street / Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.
It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity:Thus could I sing and thus rejoice: but it is not so with me.
I see every thing I paint in this world, but everybody does not see alike. To the eyes of a miser a guinea is more beautiful than the sun, and a bag worn with the use of money has more beautiful proportions than a vine filled with grapes.
O! why was I born with a different face? / Why was I not born like the rest of my race?
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.
Piping down the valleys wild, / Piping songs of pleasant glee, / On a cloud I saw a child.
I thought Love lived in the hot sunshine,But O, he lives in the moony light!I thought to find Love in the heat of day,But sweet Love is the comforter of night.
Man's Desires are limited by his Perceptions; none can desire what he has not perceived.
When I saw that rage was vainAnd to sulk would nothing gain,Turning many a trick and wileI began to soothe and smile.