The Sick Rose O Rose, thou art sick. The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found… — William Blake Copy Share Image
“Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be; For the gentle wind doth move Silently, invisibly. I told… — William Blake Copy Share Image
Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles. — William Blake Copy Share Image
Embraces are comminglings from the head even to the feet, And not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place. — William Blake Copy Share Image
The countless gold of a merry heart, The rubies and pearls of a loving eye, The indolent never can bring to the… — William Blake Copy Share Image
Poetry fettered, fetters the human race. Nations are destroyed or flourish in proportion as their poetry, painting, and music are destroyed or flourish. — William Blake Copy Share Image
Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the Last Judgement draweth nigh. — William Blake Copy Share Image
The world of imagination is the world of eternity. It is the divine bosom into which we shall all go after death of the… — William Blake Copy Share Image
Imagination is the real and eternal world of which this vegetable universe is but a faint shadow. — William Blake Copy Share Image
Time is the mercy of Eternity; without Time's swiftness Which is the swiftest of all things, all were eternal torment. — William Blake Copy Share Image
The difference between a bad artist and a good one is: the bad artist seems to copy a great deal; the good one really… — William Blake Copy Share Image
Cruelty has a human heart, and jealousy a human face. Terror, the human form divine, And secrecy, the human dress. — William Blake Copy Share Image
Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained; and the restrainer or reason usurps its place & governs… — William Blake Copy Share Image
