Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born. Every Morn and every Night Some are born to Sweet Delight, Some… — William Blake Copy Share Image
I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where… — 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
Children of the future age Reading this indignant page Know that in a former time Love, sweet love, was thought a crime — William Blake Copy Share Image
How sweet I roamed from field to field, And tasted all the summer's pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who… — William Blake Copy Share Image
Ah, sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey… — William Blake Copy Share Image
I have no name: I am but two days old. What shall I call thee? I happy am, Joy is my name.… — William Blake Copy Share Image
Come live, and be merry, and join with me, To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha ha he! — William Blake Copy Share Image
I thought Love lived in the hot sunshine, But O, he lives in the moony light! I thought to find Love in… — 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
