Tuesday, 22 May 2007

Blake really can't draw - or write poetry...Why do we study him again?


The "human form" - Sir Isaac Newton (curiously naked) by William Blake.
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'The Blossom', by William Blake:

Merry, Merry Sparrow!
Under leaves so green
A happy Blossom
Sees you swift as arrow
Seek your cradle narrow
Near my Bosom.
Pretty, Pretty Robin!
Under leaves so green
A happy Blossom
Hears you sobbing, sobbing,
Pretty, Pretty Robin,
Near my Bosom.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So Farewell Then Little Boy Poisoned by Religion and Old Hags,
not by William Blake
-
O little boy lost, what will you do
If I sit here all day shedding tears over you?
Will you run to the priest and be sermonised to death?
Will you run to the harlot who, for all I know, might not be permanently miserable and steeped in sin all of the time...
O! O! O! dark...wrath...fear...illicit sex...clergymen...chimneys...O O O!

2 comments:

Hamilton said...

I saw a child in a tree
He turned his head and said to me
'Though I am young and without care
I can but weep at life's despair'.

[insert crudely executed drawing of child in tree, and maybe some small animals around the base]

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