53. THE LAMB LITTLE Lamb, who made thee? Little Lamb, who made thee? Little Lamb, I'll tell thee, I a child, and thou a lamb, 54. MOCK ON, MOCK ON, VOLTAIRE, ROUSSEAU Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau; 55. THE LITTLE BLACK BOY But I am black, as if bereaved of light. W. BLAKE. And, pointing to the east, began to say: And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love; Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove. 'For when our souls have learned the heat to bear, Thus did my mother say, and kissèd me; When I from black, and he from white cloud free, I'll shade him from the heat, till he can bear W. BLAKE. 56. TO SPRING O THOU with dewy locks, who lookest down Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring! The hills tell each other, and the list'ning Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour 57. 'SONGS OF INNOCENCE' PIPING down the valleys wild, And he laughing said to me: 'Pipe a song about a Lamb!' So I piped with merry cheer. 'Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy songs of happy cheer: So I sang the same again, While he wept with joy to hear. 'Piper, sit thee down and write In a book, that all may read.' So he vanished from my sight, And I plucked a hollow reed, And I made a rural pen, W. BLAKE. 58. TIGER TIGER! BURNING BRIGHT TIGER! Tiger! burning bright In what distant deeps or skies And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain ? In what furnace was thy brain? grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see ? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? 59. TO THE MUSES WHETHER on Ida's shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East, The chambers of the sun, that now From ancient melody have ceased; Whether in Heav'n ye wander fair, Or the green corners of the earth, Or the blue regions of the air Where the melodious winds have birth; Whether on crystal rocks ye rove, Beneath the bosom of the sea Wandering in many a coral grove, Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry ! How have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoyed in you! The languid strings do scarcely move! The sound is forced, the notes are few! W. BLAKE. 60. THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD YOUTH of delight, come hither, Tangled roots perplex her ways. How many have fallen there! of the dead, And feel they know not what but care, And wish to lead others, when they should be led. W. BLAKE. ON these white cliffs, that calm above the flood Sailed slow, has thought of all his heart must leave The thoughts that would full fain the past recall; W. L. BOWLES. 62. IN THE MERRY MONTH OF MAY IN the merry month of May, Much ado there was, God wot! Corydon would kiss her then ; 63. She said, Maids must kiss no men Was with kisses sweet concluded; FROM 'FAREWELL TO TOWN To think that I must from you part. I now must leave you all, alas, And now, farewell, thou gallant lute, Recorder, cittern, harp and flute, And heavenly descants on sweet grounds; And now, farewell, both spear and shield, See, see, what sighs my heart doth yield, And now, farewell, each dainty dish, To please this dainty mouth of mine! And make good cheer with bread and cheese. N. BRETON. 64. LOVE, DRINK, AND DEBT I HAVE been in love, and in debt, and in drink, And those are three plagues enough, any should think, 'Twas love made me fall into drink, And drink made me run into debt, And though I have struggled, and struggled, and strove, I cannot get out of them yet. There's nothing but money can cure me, 'Twill pay all my debts, And remove all my lets, And my mistress, that cannot endure me, Then I'll fall to my loving and drinking amain! A. BROME. 65. LOVE UNACCOUNTABLE 'Tis not her birth, her friends, nor yet her treasure, Nor do I covet her for sensual pleasure, Nor for that old morality Do I love her, 'cause she loves me. Sure he that loves his lady 'cause she 's fair, A. BROME. |