My Spectre Around Me (William Blake Poems)
My spectre around me night and day Like a wild beast guards my way. My emanation far within Weeps incessantly ...
My spectre around me night and day Like a wild beast guards my way. My emanation far within Weeps incessantly ...
THEL'S MOTTO 1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? 2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? ...
In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy. Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of ...
The Argument. Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burdend air; Hungry clouds swag on the deep Once meek, ...
Sleep! sleep! beauty bright, Dreaming o'er the joys of night; Sleep! sleep! in thy sleep Little sorrows sit and weep. ...
The wild winds weep And the night is a-cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning ...
The vision of Christ that thou dost see Is my vision's greatest enemy. Thine has a great hook nose like ...
MY Spectre around me night and day Like a wild beast guards my way; My Emanation far within Weeps incessantly ...
In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy. Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of ...
Whate'er is Born of Mortal Birth, Must be consumed with the Earth To rise from Generation free: Then what have ...
All the night in woe, Lyca's parents go: Over vallies deep. While the desarts weep. Tired and woe-begone. Hoarse with ...
In futurity I prophesy see. That the earth from sleep. (Grave the sentence deep) Shall arise and seek For her ...
The sun descending in the west. The evening star does shine. The birds are silent in their nest, And I ...
Can I see anothers woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see anothers grief, And not seek for ...
Once a dream did weave a shade, O'er my Angel-guarded bed. That an Emmet lost it's way Where on grass ...
Sweet dreams form a shade, O'er my lovely infants head. Sweet dreams of pleasant streams, By happy silent moony beams ...
A little black thing among the snow: Crying weep, weep, in notes of woe! Where are thy father & mother? ...
Awake, awake my little Boy! Thou wast thy Mother's only joy: Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep? Awake! ...
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue, Could scarcely cry ...
having the low down blues and going into a restraunt to eat. you sit at a table. the waitress smiles ...
Bury thy sorrows, and they shall rise As souls to the immortal skies, And there look down like mothers' eyes. ...
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