Holy Thursday
William Blake
1757 to 1827
Is this a holy thing to see
In a rich and fruitful land,—
Babes reduced to misery,
Fed with cold and usurous hand?
Is that trembling cry a song?
Can it be a song of joy?
And so many children poor?
It is a land of poverty!
And their sun does never shine,
And their fields are bleak and bare,
And their ways are filled with thorns,
It is eternal winter there.
For where'er the sun does shine,
And where'er the rain does fall,
Babe can never hunger there,
Nor poverty the mind appal.
From Songs of Experience
William Blake's Holy Thursday
I am busy working to bring William Blake's "Holy Thursday" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about William Blake's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "Holy Thursday" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.
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