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    The Complete Poems

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      Who countest the steps of the Sun:

      Seeking after that sweet golden clime

      Where the travellers journey is done.

      Where the Youth pined away with desire,

      And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:

      Arise from their graves and aspire,

      Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

      THE LILLY

      The modest Rose puts forth a thorn:

      The humble Sheep, a threatning horn:

      While the Lilly white, shall in Love delight,

      Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright

      THE GARDEN OF LOVE

      I went to the Garden of Love.

      And saw what I never had seen:

      A Chapel was built in the midst,

      Where I used to play on the green.

      And the gates of this Chapel were shut,

      And Thou shalt not. writ over the door;

      So I turn’d to the Garden of Love,

      That so many sweet flowers bore.

      And I saw it was filled with graves,

      10 And tomb-stones where flowers should be:

      And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,

      And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

      THE LITTLE VAGABOND

      Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold.

      But the Ale-house is healthy & pleasant & warm;

      Besides I can tell where I am use’d well,

      Such usage in heaven will never do well.

      But if at the Church they would give us some Ale.

      And a pleasant fire, our souls to regale;

      We’d sing and we’d pray, all the live-long day;

      Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray,

      Then the Parson might preach & drink & sing.

      10 And we’d be as happy as birds in the spring:

      And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church,

      Wou’ld not have bandy children nor fasting nor birch.

      And God like a father rejoicing to see,

      His children as pleasant and happy as he:

      Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the Barrel

      But kiss him & give him both drink and apparel.

      LONDON

      I wander thro’ each charter’d street,

      Near where the charter’d Thames does flow.

      And mark in every face I meet

      Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

      In every cry of every Man,

      In every Infants cry of fear,

      In every voice: in every ban,

      The mind-forg’d manacles I hear

      How the Chimney-sweepers cry

      10 Every blackning Church appalls,

      And the hapless Soldiers sigh,

      Runs in blood down Palace walls

      But most thro’ midnight streets I hear

      How the youthful Harlots curse

      Blasts the new-born Infants tear

      And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse

      THE HUMAN ABSTRACT

      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;

      And mutual fear brings peace;

      Till the selfish loves increase.

      Then Cruelty knits a snare,

      And spreads his baits with care.

      He sits down with holy fears,

      10 And waters the ground with tears:

      Then Humility takes its root

      Underneath his foot.

      Soon spreads the dismal shade

      Of Mystery over his head;

      And the Catterpiller and Fly,

      Feed on the Mystery.

      And it bears the fruit of Deceit,

      Ruddy and sweet to eat;

      And the Raven his nest has made

      20 In its thickest shade.

      The Gods of the earth and sea,

      Sought thro’ Nature to find this Tree

      But their search was all in vain:

      There grows one in the Human Brain

      INFANT SORROW

      My mother groand! my father wept.

      Into the dangerous world I leapt:

      Helpless, naked, piping loud;

      Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

      Struggling in my fathers hands:

      Striving against my swadling bands:

      Bound and weary I thought best

      To sulk upon my mothers breast.

      A POISON TREE

      I was angry with my friend:

      I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

      I was angry with my foe:

      I told it not, my wrath did grow.

      And I watered it in fears.

      Night & morning with my tears:

      And I sunned it with smiles.

      And with soft deceitful wiles.

      And it grew both day and night.

      10 Till it bore an apple bright.

      And my foe beheld it shine.

      And he knew that it was mine.

      And into my garden stole.

      When the night had veild the pole;

      In the morning glad I see;

      My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.

      A LITTLE BOY LOST

      Nought loves another as itself

      Nor venerates another so.

      Nor is it possible to Thought

      A greater than itself to know:

      And Father, how can I love you,

      Or any of my brothers more?

      I love you like the little bird

      That picks up crumbs around the door.

      The Priest sat by and heard the child.

      10 In trembling zeal he siez’d his hair:

      He led him by his little coat:

      And all admir’d the Priestly care.

      And standing on the altar high,

      Lo what a fiend is here! said he:

      One who sets reason up for judge

      Of our most holy Mystery.

      The weeping child could not be heard.

      The weeping parents wept in vain:

      They strip’d him to his little shirt.

      20 And bound him in an iron chain.

      And burn’d him in a holy place,

      Where many had been burn’d before:

      The weeping parents wept in vain.

      Are such things done on Albions shore.

      A LITTLE GIRL LOST

      Children of the future Age,

      Reading this indignant page:

      Know that in a former time,

      Love! sweet Love! was thought a crime.

      In the Age of Gold,

      Free from winters cold:

      Youth and maiden bright,

      To the holy light,

      Naked in the sunny beams delight.

      10 Once a youthful pair

      Fill’d with softest care:

      Met in garden bright,

      Where the holy light,

      Had just remov’d the curtains of the night.

      There in rising day,

      On the grass they play:

      Parents were afar:

      Strangers came not near:

      And the maiden soon forgot her fear.

      20 Tired with kisses sweet

      They agree to meet,

      When the silent sleep

      Waves o’er heavens deep;

      And the weary tired wanderers weep.

      To her father white

      Came the maiden bright:

      But his loving look.

      Like the holy book,

      All her tender limbs with terror shook.

      Ona! pale and weak!

      To thy father speak:

      O the trembling fear!

      O the dismal care!

      That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair

      TO TIRZAH

      Whate’er is Born of Mortal Birth,

      Must be consumed with the Earth

      To rise from Generation free;

      Then what have I to do with thee?

      The Sexes spru
    ng from Shame & Pride

      Blow’d in the morn: in evening died

      But Mercy changd Death into Sleep;

      The Sexes rose to work & weep.

      Thou Mother of my Mortal part

      10 With cruelty didst mould my Heart,

      And with false self-decieving tears,

      Didst bind my Nostrils Eyes & Ears.

      Didst close my Tongue in senseless clay

      And me to Mortal Life betray:

      The Death of Jesus set me free,

      Then what have I to do with thee?

      THE SCHOOL BOY

      I love to rise in a summer morn,

      When the birds sing on every tree;

      The distant huntsman winds his horn,

      And the sky-lark sings with me.

      O! what sweet company.

      But to go to school in a summer morn

      O! it drives all joy away;

      Under a cruel eye outworn,

      The little ones spend the day,

      10 In sighing and dismay.

      Ah! then at times I drooping sit,

      And spend many an anxious hour.

      Nor in my book can I take delight,

      Nor sit in learnings bower,

      Worn thro’ with the dreary shower

      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,

      20 And forget his youthful spring.

      O! father & mother, if buds are nip’d,

      And blossoms blown away,

      And if the tender plants are strip’d

      Of their joy in the springing day,

      By sorrow and cares dismay,

      How shall the summer arise in joy

      Or the summer fruits appear

      Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy

      Or bless the mellowing year,

      30 When the blasts of winter appear.

      THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD

      Youth of delight come hither:

      And see the opening morn,

      Image of truth new born

      Doubt is fled & clouds of reason

      Dark disputes & artful teazing.

      Folly is an endless maze,

      Tangled roots perplex her ways,

      How many have fallen there!

      They stumble all night over bones of the dead;

      10 And feel they know not what but care;

      And wish to lead others when they should be led.

      NOTEBOOK POEMS AND FRAGMENTS, c. 1789–93

      A flower was offerd to me

      Such a flower as may never bore

      But I said Ive a pretty rose tree

      And I passed the sweet flower oer

      Then I went to my pretty rose tree

      [In the silent of the night]

      To tend it by day & by night

      But my rose [was turnd from me/was filld] turnd away with Jealousy

      And her thorns were my only delight

      *

      [Never (seek) pain to tell thy love

      Love that never told can be

      For the gentle wind does move

      Silently invisibly]

      I told my love I told my love

      I told her all my heart

      Trembling cold in ghastly fears

      Ah she doth depart

      Soon as she was gone from me

      A traveller came by

      Silently invisibly

      [He took her with a sigh]

      O was no deny

      *

      Love seeketh not itself to please

      Nor for itself hath any care

      But for another gives its ease

      And builds a heaven in hells despair

      So sung a little clod of clay

      Trodden with the cattles feet

      But a pebble of the brook

      Warbled out these metres meet

      Love seeketh only self to please

      To bind another to its delight

      Joys in anothers loss of ease

      And builds a hell in heavens despite

      *

      I laid me down upon a bank

      Where love lay sleeping

      I heard among the rushes dank

      Weeping Weeping

      Then I went to the heath & the wild

      To the thistles & thorns of the waste

      And they told me how they were beguild

      Driven out & compeld to be chaste

      *

      I went to the garden of love

      And I saw what I never had seen

      A chapel was built in the midst

      Where I used to play on the green

      And the gates of the chapel were shut

      And thou shalt not writ over the door

      [And] So I turned to the garden of love

      That so many sweet flowers bore

      And I saw it was filled with graves

      10 And tomb-stones where flowers should be

      And priests in black gounds were walking their rounds

      And binding with briars my joys & desires

      *

      I saw a chapel all of gold

      That none did dare to enter in

      And many weeping stood without

      Weeping mourning worshipping

      I saw a serpent rise between

      The white pillars of the door

      And he forcd & forcd & forcd

      [Till he broke the pearly door]

      Down the golden hinges tore

      10 And along the pavement sweet

      Set with pearls & rubies bright

      All his slimy length he drew

      Till upon the altar white

      Vomiting his poison out

      On the bread & on the wine

      So I turned into a sty

      And laid me down among the swine

      *

      I asked a thief [if he’d] to steal me a peach

      [And] He turned up his eyes

      I askd a lithe lady to lie her down

      [And] Holy & meek she cries

      As soon as I went An angel came

      [And] He winkd at the thief

      And [he] smild at the dame

      And without one word [spoke] said

      10 Had a peach from the tree

      [And twixt earnest & (game) joke] And still as a maid

      [He] Enjoy’d the [da] lady.

      *

      I heard an Angel singing

      When the day was springing

      Mercy Pity [&] Peace

      Is the worlds release

      Thus he sung all day

      Over the new mown hay

      Till the sun went down

      And haycocks looked brown

      I heard a Devil curse

      10 Over the heath & the furze

      Mercy could be no more

      If there was nobody poor

      And pity no more could be

      If all were as happy as we

      [Thus he sang &] At his curse the sun went down

      And the heavens gave a frown

      [(And) Down pourd the heavy rain

      Over the new reapd grain

      And Mercy & Pity & Peace descended

      20 The Farmers were ruind & harvest was ended]

      [And Mercy Pity & Peace [And by distress increase

      Joyd at their increase Mercy Pity Peace

      With Povertys Increase By Misery to increase

      Are] mercy Pity Peace]

      And Miseries increase

      Is Mercy Pity Peace

      *

      A CRADLE SONG

      1 3 Sleep Sleep; in thy sleep

      [Thou wilt every secret keep]

      [Canst] [Thou canst any secret keep]

      4 Little sorrows sit & weep

      1 Sleep Sleep beauty bright

      [Thou shalt taste the joys of night]

      2 Dreaming oer the joys of night

      [Yet a little while the moon Silent]

      10 3 As thy softest limbs I [touch/stroke] feel

      Smiles as of the morning [brok
    e] steal

      Oer thy cheek & oer thy breast

      Where thy little heart does rest

      4 O the cunning wiles that creep

      In thy little heart asleep

      When thy little heart does wake

      Then the dreadful lightnings break

      2 Sweet Babe in thy face

      20 Soft desires I can trace

      Secret joys & secret smiles

      [Such as burning youth beguiles]

      Little pretty infant wiles

      5 From thy cheek & from thy eye

      Oer the youthful harvests nigh

      [Female] Infant wiles & [female] infant smiles

      Heaven & Earth of peace beguiles

      *

      CHRISTIAN FORBEARANCE

      I was angry with my friend

      I told my wrath my wrath did end

      I was angry with my foe

      I told it not my wrath did grow

      And I waterd it in fears

      Night & morning with my tears

      And I sunned it with smiles

      And with soft deceitful wiles

      And it grew by day & night

      10 Till it bore an apple bright

      [And I gave it to my foe]

      And my foe beheld it shine

      And he knew that it was mine

      And into my garden stole

      When the night had veild the pole

      In the morning Glad I see

      My foe outstretchd beneath the tree

      *

      I feard the [roughness] fury of my wind

      Would blight all blossoms fair & true

      And my sun it shind & shind

      And my wind it never blew

      But a blossom fair or true

      Was not found on any tree

      For all blossoms grew & grew

      Fruitless false tho fair to see

      *

      [THAMES]

      Why should I care for the men of thames

      Or the cheating waves of charterd streams

      Or shrink at the little blasts of fear

      That the hireling blows into my ear

      Tho born on the cheating banks of Thames

      Tho his waters bathed my infant limbs

      [I spurnd his waters away from me]

      The Ohio shall wash his stains from me

      I was born a slave but I [long] go to be free

      *

      INFANT SORROW

      My mother groand my father wept

      Into the dangerous world I leapt

      Helpless naked piping loud

      Like a fiend hid in a cloud

      Struggling in my fathers hands

      Striving against my swaddling bands

      Bound & weary I thought best

      To sulk upon my mothers breast

      When I saw that rage was vain

      10 And to sulk would nothing gain

      [I began to so/Seeking many an artful wile]

      Turning many a trick or wile

      I began to soothe & smile

      And I [grew/smild] soothd day after day

      Till upon the ground I stray

      And I [grew] smild night after night

      Seeking only for delight

     


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