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My Silks And Fine Array, My Smiles And Languished Air, By Love Are Driv'n Away And Mournful Lean Despair Brings Me Yew To Deck My Grave: Such End True Lovers Have.

-William Blake

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My Silks And Fine

William Blake

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My Silks And Fine Array, My Smiles And Languished Air, By Love Are Driv'n Away And Mournful Lean Despair Brings Me Yew To Deck My Grave: Such End True Lovers Have.

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Ah, Sunflower, Weary Of Time, Who Countest The Steps Of The Sun, Seeking After That Sweet Golden Clime Where The Traveller's 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 Sunflower Wishes To Go.

Rhetoric Completes The Tools Of Learning. Dialectic Zeros In On The Logic Of Things, Of Particular Systems Of Thought Or Subjects. Rhetoric Takes The Next Grand Step And Brings All These Subjects Together Into One Whole.

When The Stars Threw Down Their Spears, And Watered Heaven With Their Tears, Did He Smile His Work To See? Did He Who Made The Lamb Make Thee?

What Has Reasoning To Do With Painting?

The Whole Business Of Man Is The Arts, & All Things Common.

Gratitude Is Heaven Itself.

The Reason Milton Wrote In Fetters When He Wrote Of Angels And God, And At Liberty When Of Devils And Hell, Is Because He Was A True Poet And Of The Devil's Party Without Knowing It.

The Wrath Of The Lion Is The Wisdom Of God.

He Who Has Few Things To Desire Cannot Have Many To Fear.

Every Mortal Loss Is An Immortal Gain.

Abstinence Sows Sand All Over The Ruddy Limbs And Flaming Hair, But Desire Gratified Plants Fruits Of Life And Beauty There.

Come Live, And Be Merry, And Join With Me, To Sing The Sweet Chorus Of 'ha Ha He!

We Are Not Meant To Resolve All Contradictions But To Live With Them And Rise Above Them.

Acts Themselves Alone Are History, And These Are Neither The Exclusive Property Of Hume, Gibbon Nor Voltaire, Echard, Rapin, Plutarch, Nor Herodotus. Tell Me The Acts, O Historian, And Leave Me To Reason Upon Them As I Please; Away With Your Reasoning And Your Rubbish. All That Is Not Action Is Not Worth Reading.

I See Through My Eyes, Not With Them.

Through My Eyes

Demonstration, Similitude & Harmony Are Objects Of Reasoning. Invention, Identity & Melody Are Objects Of Intuition.

Thy Friendship Oft Has Made My Heart To Ache: Do Be My Enemy For Friendship's Sake.

Knowledge Of Ideal Beauty Is Not To Be Acquired. It Is Born With Us. Innate Ideas Are In Every Man, Born With Him; Theyare Truly Himself.

Every Wolf's And Lion's Howl Raises From Hell A Human Soul.

Why Cannot The Ear Be Closed To Its Own Destruction? Or The Glistening Eye To The Poison Of A Smile?

The Pure Soul Shall Mount On Native Wings, . . . And Cut A Path Into The Heaven Of Glory.

How Can A Bird That Is Born For Joy Sit In A Cage And Sing?

Painters Are Noted For Being Dissipated And Wild.

The Crow Wished Everything Was Black, The Owl, That Everything Was White.

He Who Binds To Himself A Joy Does The Winged Life Destroy; But He Who Kisses The Joy As It Flies Lives In Eternity's Sun Rise.

Thus Men Forgot That All Deities Reside In The Human Breast.

Energy Is An Eternal Delight.

A Dog Starved At His Master's Gate Predicts The Ruin Of The State.

Robin Redbreast

'come Hither, My Boy, Tell Me What Thou Seest There?' 'a Fool Tangled In A Religious Snare.'

A Robin Redbreast In A Cage Puts All Heaven In A Rage.

All The Destruction In Christian Europe Has Arisen From Deism, Which Is Natural Religion.

I Must Create A System, Or Be Enslav'd By Another Man's.

He Who Kisses Joy As It Flies By Will Live In Eternity's Sunrise.

The Prophets Isaiah And Ezekiel Dined With Me, And I Asked Them How They Dared So Roundly To Assert, That God Spoke To Them; And Whether They Did Not Think At The Time, That They Would Be Misunderstood, & So Be The Cause Of Imposition. Isaiah Answer'd, I Saw No God, Nor Heard Any, In A Finite Organical Perception; But My Senses Discover'd The Infinite In Every Thing, And As I Was Then Persuaded, & Remain Confirm'd; That The Voice Of Honest Indignation Is The Voice Of God, I Cared Not For Consequences But Wrote.

Works Of Art Can Only Be Produc'd In Perfection Where The Man Is Either In Affluence Or Is Above The Care Of It.

The Cut Worm Forgives The Plow.

Let The Men Do Their Duty & The Women Will Be Such Wonders; The Female Life Lives From The Light Of The Male: See A Man's Female Dependants, You Know The Man.

He Who Desires, But Acts Not, Breeds Pestilence.

Angels Are Happier Than Men And Devils, Because They Are Not Always Prying After Good And Evil In One Another, And Eating The Tree Of Knowledge For Satan's Gratification.

To See A World In A Grain Of Sand And A Heaven In A Wildflower.

Eternity Of Life

A Tyrant Is The Worst Disease, And The Cause Of All Others.

The Naked Women's Body Is A Portion Of Eternity Too Great For The Eye Of Man.

To Mercy, Pity, Peace And Love All Pray In Their Distress, And To These Virtues Of Delight Return Their Thankfulness.

He Who Shall Teach The Child To Doubtthe Rotting Grave Shall Ne'er Get Out.

The Worship Of God Is, Honouring His Gifts In Other Men Each According To His Genius, And Loving The Greatest Men Best; Those Who Envy Or Calumniate Great Men Hate God, For There Is No Other God.

Silent As Despairing Love, And Strong As Jealousy.

The Spirits Of The Air Live On The Smells Of Fruit; And Joy, With Pinions Light, Roves Round The Gardens, Or Sits Singing In The Trees.

I Have Conversed With The Spiritual Sun. I Saw Him On Primrose Hill

For Everything Exists And Not One Sigh Nor Smile Nor Tear, One Hair Nor Particle Of Dust, Not One Can Pass Away.

The Errors Of A Wise Man Make Your Rule Rather Than The Perfections Of A Fool.

Sooner Strangle An Infant In Its Cradle Than Nurse Unacted Desires.

Naught Can Deform The Human Race Like To The Armor's Iron Brace.

Let Every Christian, As Much As In Him Lies, Engage Himself Openly And Publicly, Before All The World, In Some Mental Pursuit For The Building Up Of Jerusalem.

The Woman That Does Not Love Your Frowns Will Never Embrace Your Smiles.

Down The Winding Cavern We Groped Our Tedious Way, Till A Void Boundless As The Nether Sky Appeared Beneath Us, And We Held By The Roots Of Trees And Hung Over This Immensity; But I Said: If You Please We Will Commit Ourselves To This Void And See Whether Providence Is Here Also.

Without Contraries There Is No Progression.

He Who Replies To Words Of Doubt Doth Put The Light Of Knowledge Out.

How Sweet I Roamed From Field To Field, And Tasted All The Summer's Pride, Till I The Prince Of Love Beheld, Who In The Sunny Beams Did Glide!

I Heard An Angel Singing; When The Day Was Springing, Mercy, Pity, Peace; Is The World's Release.

Christianity Is Art And Not Money. Money Is Its Curse.

Can I See A Falling Tear, And Not Feel My Sorrow's Share?

Why Stand We Here Trembling Around, Calling On God For Help, And Not Ourselves, In Whom God Dwells?

Can I See Another's Woe, And Not Be In Sorrow Too? Can I See Another's Grief, And Not Seek For Kind Relief?

Make Your Own Rules Or Be A Slave To Another Man's.

The Look Of Love Alarms Because 'tis Filled With Fire; But The Look Of Soft Deceit Shall Win The Lover's Hire.

This Life's Dim Windows Of The Soul Distorts The Heavens From Pole To Pole And Leads You To Believe A Lie When You See With, Not Through, The Eye.

Hindsight Is A Wonderful Thing But Foresight Is Better, Especially When It Comes To Saving Life, Or Some Pain!

Since All The Riches Of This World May Be Gifts From The Devil And Earthly Kings, I Should Suspect That I Worshipp'd The Devil If I Thank'd My God For Worldly Things.

Art Degraded, Imagination Denied.

O White-robed Angel, Guide My Timorous Hand To Write As On A Lofty Rock With Iron Pen The Words Of Truth, That All Who Pass May Read.

On No Other Ground Can I Sow My Seed Without Tearing Up Some Stinking Weed.

I Give You The End Of A Golden String, Only Wind It Into A Ball, It Will Lead You In At Heaven's Gate Built In Jerusalem's Wall.

Sweet Babe, In Thy Face Soft Desires I Can Trace, Secret Joys And Secret Smiles, Little Pretty Infant Wiles.

The Nakedness Of Woman Is The Work Of God.

The Grave Is Heaven's Golden Gate, And Rich And Poor Around It Wait; O Shepherdess Of England's Fold, Behold This Gate Of Pearl And Gold!

In Seed Time Learn, In Harvest Teach, In Winter Enjoy.

Thinking Of You

To See A World In A Grain Of Sand And A Heaven In A Wild Flower, Hold Infinity In The Palm Of Your Hand, And Eternity In An Hour.

Come O'er The Eastern Hills, And Let Our Winds Kiss Thy Perfumed Garments; Let Us Taste Thy Morn And Evening Breath; Scatter Thy Pearls Upon Our Love-sick Land That Mourns For Thee.

There Is No Mistake So Great As The Mistake Of Not Going On.

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, And Tomb-stones Where Flowers Should Be: And Priests In Black Gowns, Were Walking Their Rounds, And Binding With Briars, My Joys & Desires.

Every Tear From Every Eyebecomes A Babe In Eternity.

The Tigers Of Wrath Are Wiser Than The Horses Of Instruction.

And I Watered It In Fears, Night And Morning With My Tears; And I Sunned It With Smiles, And With Soft Deceitful Wiles.

Ages Are All Equal. / But Genius Is Always Above The Age.

Children Of The Future Age Reading This Indignant Page Know That In A Former Time Love, Sweet Love, Was Thought A Crime

One Power Alone Makes A Poet: Imagination. The Divine Vision.

Although Wine When It Is Read Somewhat Lacks The Savour Of Wine When It Is Drunk, Wine Remains A Very Pleasant Thing Both To Read About And To Chat About.

God And His Priest And King,...make Up A Heaven Of Our Misery.

[l]et Light Rise From The Chambers Of The East, And Bring The Honey'd Dew That Cometh On Waking Day. O Radiant Morning.

I Am More Famed In Heaven For My Works Than I Could Well Conceive. In My Brain Are Studies & Chambers Filled With Books & Pictures Of Old, Which I Wrote And Painted In Ages Of Eternity Before My Mortal Life; And Whose Works Are The Delight & Study Of Archangels. Why, Then, Should I Be Anxious About The Riches Or Fame Of Mortality?

Execution Is The Chariot Of Genius.

Then My Verse I Dishonor, My Pictures Despise, My Person Degrade And My Temper Chastise; And The Pen Is My Terror, The Pencil My Shame; And My Talents I Bury, And Dead Is My Fame.

And I Made A Rural Pen, And I Stained The Water Clear, And I Wrote My Happy Songs Every Child May Joy To Hear.

To Me This World Is All One Continued Vision Of Fancy Or Imagination, And I Feel Flattered When I Am Told So. What Is It Sets Homer, Virgil And Milton In So High A Rank Of Art? Why Is The Bible More Entertaining And Instructive Than Any Other Book? Is It Not Because They Are Addressed To The Imagination, Which Is Spiritual Sensation, And But Immediately To The Understanding Or Reason?

When The Sun Rises, Do You Not See A Round Disc Of Fire Somewhat Like A Guinea? O No, No, I See An Innumerable Company Of The Heavenly Host Crying Holy, Holy, Holy Is The Lord God Almighty.

What Is The Price Of Experience? Do Men Buy It For A Song? Or Wisdom For A Dance In The Street? No, It Is Bought With The Price Of All The Man Hath, His House, His Wife, His Children.

I Will Not Cease From Mental Fight Nor Shall My Sword Sleep In My Hand.

The Soul Of Sweet Delight, Can Never Be Defiled.

The Roaring Of Lions, The Howling Of Wolves, The Raging Of The Stormy Sea, And The Destructive Sword, Are Portions Of Eternity, Too Great For The Eye Of Man.

Desperate Remorse Swallows The Present In A Quenchless Rage.

The Mocker Of Art Is The Mocker Of Jesus.

Without Unceasing Practice Nothing Can Be Done. Practice Is Art. If You Leave Off You Are Lost.

Celebrate Your Existence!

Enlightenment Means Taking Full Responsibility For Your Life.

Little Fly, Thy Summer's Play My Thoughtless Hand Has Brushed Away. Am Not I A Fly Like Thee? Or Art Not Thou A Man Like Me? For I Dance And Drink And Sing, Till Some Blind Hand Shall Brush My Wing!

The 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 Water'd It In Fears, Night & Morning With My Tears; And I Sunned It With My Smiles And With Soft Deceitful Wiles. And It Grew Both Day And Night, 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 Veil'd The Pole: In The Morning Glad I See My Foe Outstretch'd Beneath The Tree.

I Thought Love Lived In The Hot Sunshine, But O, He Lives In The Moony Light! I Thought To Find Love In The Heat Of Day, But Sweet Love Is The Comforter Of Night.

Inspirational Love

The Vision Of Christ That Thou Dost See Is My Vision's Greatest Enemy.

Men Are Admitted Into Heaven Not Because They Have Curbed Or Governed Their Passions, But Because They Have Cultivate Their Understandings.

The Moon, Like A Flower In Heaven's High Bower, With Silent Delight Sits And Smiles On The Night.

O Autumn, Laden With Fruit, And Stained With The Blood Of The Grape, Pass Not, But Sit Beneath My Shady Roof; There Thou May'st Rest, And Tune Thy Jolly Voice To My Fresh Pipe; And All The Daughters Of The Year Shall Dance! Sing Now The Lusty Song Of Fruit And Flowers.

And Priests In Black Gowns Were Walking Their Rounds And Binding With Briars My Joys And Desires. (from 'the Garden Of Love')

As I Was Walking Among The Fires Of Hell, Delighted With The Enjoyments Of Genius; Which To Angels Look Like Torment And Insanity, I Collected Some Of Their Proverbs.

Time Is The Mercy Of Eternity; Without Time's Swiftness Which Is The Swiftest Of All Things, All Were Eternal Torment.

General Knowledges Are Those Knowledges That Idiots Possess.

General Knowledge

Excessive Sorrow Laughs. Excessive Joy Weeps.

Sleep, Sleep, Beauty Bright,dreaming O'er The Joys Of Night.sleep, Sleep: In Thy Sleeplittle Sorrows Sit And Weep.

Joys Impregnate. Sorrows Bring Forth.

To Create A Little Flower Is The Labour Of Ages.

Oh! Why Was I Born With A Different Face? Why Was I Not Born Like The Rest Of My Race? When I Look,each One Starts! When I Speak, I Offend; Then Im Silent & Passive & Lose Every Friend. Then My Verse I Dishonour, My Pictures Despise, My Person Degrade & My Temper Chastise; And The Pen Is My Terror, The Pencil My Shame; All My Talents I Bury, And Dead Is My Fame. Im Either Too Low Or Too Highly Prized; When Elate I M Envy'd, When Meek Im Despis'd

Different Faces

Lives In Eternity's Sun Rise.

The Fields From Islington To Marybone, To Primrose Hill And Saint John's Wood, Were Builded Over With Pillars Of Gold; And There Jerusalem's Pillars Stood.

When The Voices Of Children Are Heard On The Greenand Laughing Is Heard On The Hill,my Heart Is At Rest Within My Breastand Everything Else Is Still.

Every Man Who Is Not An Artist Is A Traitor To His Own Nature.

Mercy Is The Golden Chain By Which Society Is Bound Together.

O God, Protect Me From My Friends, That They Have Not Power Over Me. Thou Hast Giv'n Me Power To Protect Myself From Thy Bitterest Enemies.

He Who Has Suffered You To Impose On Him Knows You.

I Am Under The Direction Of Messengers From Heaven Daily And Nightly.

Heaven Is In A Grain Of Sand.

Those Who Restrain Desire, Do So Because Theirs Is Weak Enough To Be Restrained.

Death Is Terrible, Tho' Borne On Angels' Wings!

More! More! Is The Cry Of A Mistaken Soul.

The Gulfing Whale Was Like A Dot In The Spell. Yet Look Upon It, And 'twould Size And Swell To Its Huge Self, And The Minutest Fish Would Pass The Very Hardest Gazer's Wish, And Show His Little Eye's Anatomy.

When I Tell The Truth, It Is Not For The Sake Of Convincing Those Who Do Not Know It, But For The Sake Of Defending Those That Do.

To My Eye Rubens' Colouring Is Most Contemptible. His Shadows Are A Filthy Brown Somewhat The Colour Of Excrement.

The Man Who Never In His Mind & Thoughts Travel'd To Heaven Is No Artist.

Each Man Is Haunted Until His Humanity Awakens.

The Stolen And Perverted Writings Of Homer & Ovid, Of Plato & Cicero, Which All Men Ought To Contemn, Are Set Up By Artifice Against The Sublime Of The Bible

Like A Fiend In A Cloud, With Howling Woe, After Night I Do Crowd, And With Night Will Go; I Turn My Back To The East, From Whence Comforts Have Increased; For Light Doth Seize My Brain With Frantic Pain.

Poetry, Painting & Music, The Three Powers In Man Of Conversing With Paradise, Which The Flood Did Not Sweep Away.

Such, Such Were The Joys When We All, Girls And Boys, In Our Youth Time Were Seen On The Echoing Green.

The Bat That Flits At Close Of Eve Has Left The Brain That Won't Believe. The Owl That Calls Upon The Night Speaks The Unbeliever's Fright.

One Thought Fills Immensity.

Man Has Closed Himself Up, Till He Sees All Things Thro' Narrow Chinks Of His Cavern.

Where Others See But The Dawn Coming Over The Hill, I See The Soul Of God Shouting For Joy.

For Where'er The Sun Does Shine, And Where'er The Rain Does Fall, Babe Can Never Hunger There, Nor Poverty The Mind Appall.

But If At Church They Would Give 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 From The Church To Stray.

The Difference Between A Bad Artist And A Good One Is: The Bad Artist Seems To Copy A Great Deal; The Good One Really Does.

Thought Provoking

Pride Is A Personal Commitment. It Is An Attitude Which Separates Excellence From Mediocrity.

When Thou Seest An Eagle, Thou Seest A Portion Of Genius; Lift Up Thy Head!

To The Eyes Of A Miser A Guinea Is More Beautiful Than The Sun, And A Bag Worn With The Use Of Money Has More Beautiful Proportions Than A Vine Filled With Grapes.

The Fox Condemns The Trap, Not Himself.

Opposition Is True Friendship.

True Friendship

The Hand Of Vengeance Found The Bed To Which The Purple Tyrant Fled The Iron Hand Crush'd The Tyrant's Head And Became Tyrant In His Stead.

Does A Firm Persuasion That A Thing Is So, Make It So?" He Replied, "all Poets Believe It Does. And In Ages Of Imagination, This Firm Persuasion Removes Mountains; But Many Are Not Capable Of Firm Persuasion Of Anything.

The Vision Of Christ That Thou Dost See Is My Vision's Greatest Enemy . Both Read The Bible Day And Night, But Thou Read'st Black Where I Read White. His Seventy Disciples Sent Against Religion And Government .

Then The Parson Might Preach, & Drink, & Sing, And We'd Be As Happy As Birds In The Spring; And Modest Dame Lurch, Who Is Always At Church, Would Not Have Bandy Children, Nor Fasting, Nor Birch.

Bring Me An Axe And Spade, Bring Me A Winding-sheet; When I My Grave Have Made Let Winds And Tempests Beat: Then Down I'll Lie As Cold As Clay. True Love Doth Pass Away!

My Brother Starv'd Between Two Walls,his Children's Cry My Soul Appalls

I Was In A Printing-house In Hell, And Saw The Method In Which Knowledge Is Transmitted From Generation To Generation.

It Is Easier To Forgive An Enemy Than To Forgive A Friend.

If You Cannot Imagine With The Mind's Eye Much More Than You Can See With The Mortal Eye, You Have A Very Poor Imagination Indeed.

Love's Secret Never Seek To Tell Thy Love, Love That Never Told Can Be; For The Gentle Wind Doth Move Silently, Invisibly. I Told My Love, I Told My Love, I Told Her All My Heart, Trembling, Cold, In Ghastly Fears. Ah! She Did Depart! Soon After She Was Gone From Me, A Traveller Came By, Silently, Invisibly: He Took Her With A Sigh.

Love To Faults Is Always Blind, Always Is To Joy Inclined. Lawless, Winged, And Unconfined, And Breaks All Chains From Every Mind.

He Who Sees The Infinite In All Things Sees God.

Every Night And Every Morn Some To Misery Are Born. Every Morn And Every Night Some Are Born To Sweet Delight, Some Are Born To Endless Night.

O Thou With Dewy Locks, Who Lookest Down Thro' The Clear Windows Of The Morning, Turn Thine Angel Eyes Upon Our Western Isle, Which In Full Choir Hails Thy Approach, O Spring! The Hills Tell Each Other, And The Listening Valleys Hear; All Our Longing Eyes Are Turned Up To Thy Bright Pavilions: Issue Forth, And Let Thy Holy Feet Visit Our Clime. Come O'er The Eastern Hills, And Let Our Winds Kiss Thy Perfumed Garments; Let Us Taste Thy Morn And Evening Breath; Scatter Thy Pearls Upon Our Love-sick Land That Mourns For Thee.

Man Has No Body Distinct From His Soul; For That Called Body Is A Portion Of Soul Discerned By The Five Senses, The Chief Inlets Of Soul In This Age.

He Whose Face Gives No Light, Shall Never Become A Star.

Mysteries Are Not To Be Solved. They Eye Goes Blind When It Only Wants To See Why.

Without Contraries Is No Progression. Attraction And Repulsion, Reason And Energy, Love And Hate, Are Necessary To Human Existence.

Pay Attention To Minute Particulars. Take Care Of The Little Ones. Generalization And Abstraction Are The Plea Of The Hypocrite, Scoundrel, And Knave.

Then Cherish Pity, Lest You Drive An Angel From Your Door.

Innocence And Experience

He Who Loves His Enemies Betrays His Friends; This Surely Is Not What Jesus Meant.

Mercy, Pity, And Peace, Are The World's Release.

Fun I Love, But Too Much Fun Is Of All Things The Most Loathsome. Mirth Is Better Than Fun, And Happiness Is Better Than Mirth.

The Busy Bee Has No Time For Sorrow.

Mere Enthusiasm Is The All In All.

It Is Not Because Angels Are Holier Than Men Or Devils That Makes Them Angels, But Because They Do Not Expect Holiness From One Another, But From God Only.

Think Not Thou Canst Sigh A Sigh And Thy Maker Is Not By; Think Not Thou Canst Weep A Tear And Thy Maker Is Not Near.

If The Sun And Moon Should Ever Doubt, They'd Immediately Go Out.

I Am In You And You In Me, Mutual In Divine Love.

The Atoms Of Democritus And Newton's Particles Of Light Are Sands Upon The Red Sea Shore, Where Israel's Tents Do Shine So Bright.

When Sir Joshua Reynolds Died All Nature Was Degraded; The King Dropped A Tear In The Queen's Ear, And All His Pictures Faded.

Innate Ideas Are In Every Man, Born With Him; They Are Truly Himself. The Man Who Says That We Have No Innate Ideas Must Be A Fool And Knave, Having No Conscience Or Innate Science.

You Throw The Sand Against The Wind And The Wind Blows It Back Again.

Think In The Morning. Act In The Noon. Eat In The Evening. Sleep In The Night.

In Every Cry Of Every Man, In Every Infant's Cry Of Fear, In Every Voice, In Every Ban, The Mind-forg'd Manacles I Hear.

Without Minute Neatness Of Execution, The Sublime Cannot Exist! Grandeur Of Ideas Is Founded On Precision Of Ideas.

I Asked A Thief To Steal Me A Peach: He Turned Up His Eyes. I Asked A Lithe Lady To Lie Her Down: Holy And Meek, She Cries. As Soon As I Went An Angel Came. He Winked At The Thief And Smiled At The Dame- And Without One Word Spoke Had A Peach From The Tree, And 'twixt Earnest And Joke Enjoyed The Lady.

When Sir Joshua Reynolds Died All Nature Was Degraded

Thou Art A Man God Is No More Thy Own Humanity Learn To Adore

Nothing Is Real Beyond Imaginative Patterns Men Make Of Reality.

When Nations Grow Old The Arts Grow Cold And Commerce Settles On Every Tree

The Man Who Pretends To Be A Modest Enquirer Into The Truth Of A Self-evident Thing Is A Knave.

A Dead Body Revenges Not Injuries.

A Skylark Wounded In The Wing, / A Cherubim Does Cease To Sing.

The World Of Imagination Is The World Of Eternity.

When The Doors Of Perception Are Cleansed, Men Will See Things As They Truly Are, Infinite.

A Dog Starv'd At The Master's Gate Predicts The Ruin Of The State. A Horse Misus'd Upon The Road Calls To Heaven For Human Blood. Each Outcry Of The Hunted Hare A Fibre From The Brain Does Tear, A Skylark Wounded On The Wing, A Cherubim Does Cease To Sing.

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