Auguries of Innocence

William Blake

William Blake portrait

1757 to 1827

Poem Image
Track 1

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The rotting Grave shall neer get out
Theyd immediately Go out
And when this we rightly know
The poison of the Honey Bee
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The Strongest Poison ever known
And Eternity in an hour
Every Wolfs & Lions howl
Shall never be belovd by Men
The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
But no Good if a Passion is in you
Calls to Heaven for Human blood
Does to Rags the Heavens tear
The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
A Cherubim does cease to sing
A Dove house filld with Doves & Pigeons
The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air
Poison gets from Slanders tongue
Is the sweat of Envys Foot
Is to Doubt a fit Reply
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out
The Babe is more than swadling Bands
Becomes a Babe in Eternity
The Childs Toys & the Old Mans Reasons
Every Farmer Understands
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
He who the Ox to wrath has movd
Every Morn and every Night
Shudders Hell thr' all its regions
And yet forgives the Butchers knife
Every Night & every Morn
Dance before dead Englands Hearse
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A dog starvd at his Masters Gate
Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Joy & Woe are woven fine
Throughout all these Human Lands
Some are Born to sweet delight
The Game Cock clipd & armd for fight
And returnd to its own delight
The Lamb misusd breeds Public Strife
He who shall train the Horse to War
The Gnat that sings his Summers Song
Shall never know how to Reply
Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags
A Truth thats told with bad intent
A Horse misusd upon the Road
A Skylark wounded in the wing
He who mocks the Infants Faith
Raises from Hell a Human Soul
Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow
Than all the Gold on Africs Shore
Some are Born to sweet delight
Weaves a Bower in endless Night
To those who Dwell in Realms of day
Or if protected from on high
Speaks the Unbelievers fright
To those poor Souls who dwell in Night
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons
He who Doubts from what he sees
God Appears & God is Light
A Robin Red breast in a Cage
We are led to Believe a Lie
He who replies to words of Doubt
Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands
But does a Human Form Display
The poor Mans Farthing is worth more
Triumphs over Hell & Death
Palsied strikes the Summers Sun
Runs a joy with silken twine
Every Tear from Every Eye
Like to the Armours iron brace
Shall never pass the Polar Bar
This is caught by Females bright
Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat
He who respects the Infants faith
Make Lame Philosophy to smile
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Shall be mockd in Age & Death
Will neer Believe do what you Please
A fibre from the Brain does tear
A Riddle or the Crickets Cry
The poison of the Snake & Newt
One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands
Beats all the Lies you can invent
Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore
The wild deer, wandring here & there
Has left the Brain that wont Believe
The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags
The Questioner who sits so sly
Some are Born to Endless Night
It is right it should be so
When we see not Thro the Eye
Under every grief & pine
The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat
Thro the World we safely go
He who torments the Chafers Sprite
Keeps the Human Soul from Care
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Puts all Heaven in a Rage
Is the Artists Jealousy
Man was made for Joy & Woe
Nought can Deform the Human Race
The Soldier armd with Sword & Gun
Does the Rising Sun affright
Writes Revenge in realms of Death
Predicts the ruin of the State
To be in a Passion you Good may Do
Some to Misery are Born
The Harlots cry from Street to Street
Shall never be by Woman lovd
The Winners Shout the Losers Curse
Came from Caesars Laurel Crown
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
A Clothing for the soul divine
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light
The Whore & Gambler by the State
If the Sun & Moon should Doubt
The Catterpiller on the Leaf
Tools were made & Born were hands
Licencd build that Nations Fate
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spiders enmity
Does that whole Nation sell & buy
He who shall hurt the little Wren

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