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
How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing? How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring?
The pure soul shall mount on native wings, . . . and cut a path into the heaven of glory.
A skylark wounded in the wing, / A cherubim does cease to sing.
Death is terrible, tho' borne on angels' wings!
Knowledge is Life with wings
For I dance And drink and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength and breath And the want Of thought is death Then am I A happy fly If I live Or if I die
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.