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The Sick Rose O Rose, Thou Art Sick. The Invisible Worm That Flies In The Night In The Howling Storm Has Found Out Thy Bed Of Crimson Joy, And His Dark Secret Love Does Thy Life Destroy.

-William Blake

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The Sick Rose O

William Blake

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The Sick Rose O Rose, Thou Art Sick. The Invisible Worm That Flies In The Night In The Howling Storm Has Found Out Thy Bed Of Crimson Joy, And His Dark Secret Love Does Thy Life Destroy.

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More From William Blake

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

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

The Busy Bee Has No Time For Sorrow.

Prisons Are Built With Stones Of Law. Brothels With The Bricks Of Religion.

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.

The Nakedness Of Woman Is The Work Of God.

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.

To Cast Aside From Poetry, All That Is Not Inspiration

In Your Own Bosom You Bear Your Heaven And Earth, And All You Behold, Though It Appears Without, It Is Within, In Your Imagination, Of Which This World Of Mortality Is But A Shadow.

Mutual Forgiveness Of Each Vice. Such Are The Gates Of Paradise.

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.

And Is He Honest Who Resists His Genius Or Conscience Only For The Sake Of Present Ease Or Gratification

Travelers Repose And Dream Among My Leaves.

Father, O Father! What Do We Here In This Land Of Unbelief And Fear?

The Old And New Testaments Are The Great Code Of Art.

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.

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!

If You, Who Are Organised By Divine Providence For Spiritual Communion, Refuse, And Bury Your Talent In The Earth, Even Though You Should Want Natural Bread, Sorrow And Desperation Pursue You Through Life, And After Death Shame And Confusion Of Face To Eternity.

Thou Fair-hair'd Angel Of The Evening, Now, Whilst The Sun Rests On The Mountains, Light Thy Bright Torch Of Love; Thy Radiant Crown Put On, And Smile Upon Our Evening Bed!

Joy And Woe Are Woven Fine.

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

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.

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

The Road Of Excess Leads To The Palace Of Wisdom.

If The Lion Was Advised By The Fox, He Would Be Cunning.

Expect Poison From The Standing Water.

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.

General Good Is The Plea Of The Scoundrel, Hypocite, Flatterer.

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.

You've Always Had The Power Right There In Your Shoes, You Just Had To Learn It For Yourself.

The Apple Tree Never Asks The Beech How He Shall Grow, Nor The Lion, The Horse, How He Shall Take His Prey.

Reason, Or The Ratio Of All We Have Already Known, Is Not The Same That It Shall Be When We Know More.

I See Through My Eyes, Not With Them.

Through My Eyes

Energy Is Eternal Delight.

Work Up Imagination To The State Of Vision.

A Divine Image Cruelty Has A Human Heart, And Jealousy A Human Face; Terror The Human Form Divine, And Secresy The Human Dress. The Human Dress Is Forged Iron, The Human Form A Fiery Forge, The Human Face A Furnace Sealed, The Human Heart Its Hungry Gorge.

Some Say That Happiness Is Not Good For Mortals, & They Ought To Be Answered That Sorrow Is Not Fit For Immortals & Is Utterly Useless To Any One; A Blight Never Does Good To A Tree, & If A Blight Kill Not A Tree But It Still Bear Fruit, Let None Say That The Fruit Was In Consequence Of The Blight.

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.

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.

For Mercy Has A Human Heart Pity, A Human Face: And Love, The Human Form Divine, And Peace, The Human Dress.

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

The Bird A Nest, The Spider A Web, Man Friendship.

The Imagination Is Not A State: It Is The Human Existence Itself.

Gratitude, In Itself, Is Heaven.

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

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

I Am Going To That Country Which I Have All My Life Wished To See.

The Ancient Poets Animated All Sensible Objects With Gods Or Geniuses, Calling Them By The Names And Adorning Them With The Properties Of Woods, Rivers, Mountains, Lakes, Cities, Nations, And Whatever Their Enlarged & Numerous Senses Could Perceive.

Colouring Does Not Depend On Where The Colours Are Put, But On Where The Lights And Darks Are Put, And All Depends On Form And Outline, On Where That Is Put.

The Wrath Of The Lion Is The Wisdom Of God.

I Must Create A System Or Be Enslaved By Another Mans; I Will Not Reason And Compare: My Business Is To Create.

When My Mother Died I Was Very Young, And My Father Sold Me While Yet My Tongue Could Scarcely Cry Weep Weep Weep Weep. So Your Chimneys I Sweep, And In Soot I Sleep.

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

And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time Walk Upon England's Mountains Green? And Was The Holy Lamb Of God On England's Pleasant Pastures Seen?

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

The Modest Rose Puts Forth A Thorn,the Humble Sheep A Threat'ning Horn:while The Lily White Shall In Love Delight,nor A Thorn Nor A Threat Stain Her Beauty Bright.

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

Robin Redbreast

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

What Is Grand Is Necessarily Obscure To Weak Men. That Which Can Be Made Explicit To The Idiot Is Not Worth My Care.

The Thankful Receiver Bears A Plentiful Harvest.

The World Of Imagination Is The World Of Eternity.

Tools Were Made And Born Were Hands, Every Farmer Understands.

The Foundation Of Empire Is Art And Science. Remove Them Or Degrade Them, And The Empire Is No More. Empire Follows Art And Not Vice Versa As Englishmen Suppose.

How Can The Bird That Is Born For Joy Sit In A Cage And Sing? How Can A Child, When Fears Annoy, But Droop His Tender Wing, And Forget His Youthful Spring?

For All Eternity, I Forgive You And You Forgive Me.

The Mocker Of Art Is The Mocker Of Jesus.

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

If Christianity Was Morality, Socrates Would Be The Saviour.

You Smile With Pomp And Rigor, You Talk Of Benevolence And Virtue; I Act With Benevolence And Virtue And Get Murdered Time After Time.

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

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

Nothing Can Be More Contemptible Than To Suppose Public Records To Be True.

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

What Has Reason To Do With The Art Of Painting?

If You Have Formed A Circle To Go Into,go Into It Yourself And See How You Would Do.

Active Evil Is Better Than Passive Good.

Thought Provoking

Nothing Is Real Beyond Imaginative Patterns Men Make Of Reality.

Time Is The Mercy Of Eternity

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.

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 Little Ones Leaped, And Shouted, And Laugh'd And All The Hills Echoed

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

The Person Who Does Not Believe In Miracles Surely Makes It Certain That He Or She Will Never Take Part In One.

I Wander Thro' Each Charter'd Street, Near Where The Charter'd Thames Does Flow, And Mark In Every Face I Meet Marks Of Weakness, Marks Of Woe. 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. How The Chimney-sweeper's Cry Every Black'ning Church Appalls; And The Hapless Soldier's Sigh Runs In Blood Down Palace Walls. But Most Thro' Midnight Streets I Hear How The Youthful Harlot's Curse Blasts The New Born Infant's Tear, And Blights With Plagues The Marriage Hearse.

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

Without Contraries There Is No Progression.

Every Thing Possible To Be Believ'd Is An Image Of Truth.

Do What You Will This Life's A Fiction, And Is Made Up Of Contradiction.

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

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

What Has Reasoning To Do With Painting?

To Generalize Is To Be An Idiot. To Particularize Is The Alone Distinction Of Merit. General Knowledge Are Those Knowledge That Idiots Possess.

He Who Pretends To Be Either Painter Or Engraver Without Being A Master Of Drawing Is An Imposter.

Pity Would Be No More, If We Did Not Make Somebody Poor. Mercy No More Could Be, If All Were Happy As We.

The Pride Of The Peacock Is The Glory Of God.

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

But When He Has Done This, Let Him Not Say That He Knows Better Than His Master, For He Only Holds A Candle In Sunshine.

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.

Heaven Is In A Grain Of Sand.

General Knowledges Are Those Knowledges That Idiots Possess.

General Knowledge

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

Praises Reap Not! Joys Laugh Not! Sorrows Weep Not!

I Cry, Love! Love! Love! Happy Happy Love! Free As The Mountain Wind!

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

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.

To Chloe's Breast Young Cupid Slily Stole, But He Crept In At Myra's Pocket-hole.

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.

For Everything That Lives Is Holy, Life Delights In Life.

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

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

A Fool Sees Not The Same Tree That A Wise Man Sees.

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

Those Who Enter The Gates Of Heaven Are Not Beings Who Have No Passions Or Who Have Curbed The Passions, But Those Who Have Cultivated An Understanding Of Them.

What Is A Wife And What Is A Harlot? What Is A Church And What Is A Theatre? Are They Two And Not One? Can They Exist Separate? Are Not Religion And Politics The Same Thing? Brotherhood Is Religion. O Demonstrations Of Reason Dividing Families In Cruelty And Pride!

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

My Mother Groaned, My Father Wept, Into The Dangerous World I Leapt.

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

I'm Sure This Jesus Will Not Do Either For Englishman Or Jew.

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.

As The Caterpillar Chooses The Fairest Leaves To Lay Her Eggs On, So The Priest Lays His Curse On The Fairest Joys.

Each Man Is Haunted Until His Humanity Awakens.

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.

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.

Grown Old In Love From Seven Till Seven Times Seven,i Oft Have Wished For Hell For Ease From Heaven.

Gratitude Is Heaven Itself.

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?

Enlightenment Means Taking Full Responsibility For Your Life.

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.

It Is An Easy Thing To Talk Of Patience To The Afflicted.

Both Read The Bible Day And Night, But Thou Read Black Where I Read White.

No Bird Soars Too High If He Soars With His Own Wings.

To Generalize Is To Be An Idiot.

Every Mortal Loss Is An Immortal Gain.

He Who Desires, But Acts Not, Breeds Pestilence.

Where There Is Money There Is No Art.

Shame Is Pride's Cloak.

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

The Child's Toys And The Old Man's Reasons Are The Fruits Of Two Seasons.

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

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.

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

Mans Desires Are Limited By His Perceptions; None Can Desire What He Has Not Perceived.

In The Universe, There Are Things That Are Known, And Things That Are Unknown, And In Between, There Are Doors.

Celebrate Your Existence!

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

Thinking Of You

The Pride Of The Peacock Is The Glory Of God. The Lust Of The Goat Is The Bounty Of God. The Wrath Of The Lion Is The Wisdom Of God. The Nakedness Of Woman Is The Work Of God.

As We Are, So We See.

You Never Know What Is Enough Unless You Know What Is More Than Enough.

Thought Provoking

Dip Him In The River Who Loves Water.

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

Desperate Remorse Swallows The Present In A Quenchless Rage.

Degrade First The Arts If You'd Mankind Degrade. Hire Idiots To Paint With Cold Light & Hot Shade: Give High Price For The Worst, Leave The Best In Disgrace, And With Labours Of Ignorance Fill Every Place.

The Fox Provides For Himself, But God Provides For The Lion.

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.

Mere Enthusiasm Is The All In All... / Passion And Expression Are Beauty Itself.

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

And We Are Put On Earth A Little Space, That We May Learn To Bear The Beams Of Love.

Excessive Sorrow Laughs. Excessive Joy Weeps.

There Is A Smile Of Love, And There Is A Smile Of Deceit, And There Is A Smile Of Smiles In Which These Two Smiles Meet.

Forgive What You Do Not Approve & Love Me For This Energetic Exertion Of My Talent

The Countless Gold Of A Merry Heart, The Rubies And Pearls Of A Loving Eye, The Indolent Never Can Bring To The Mart, Nor The Secret Hoard Up In His Treasury.

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 .

I Have No Name: I Am But Two Days Old. What Shall I Call Thee? I Happy Am, Joy Is My Name. Sweet Joy Befall Thee!

The World Of Imagination Is The World Of Eternity. It Is The Divine Bosom Into Which We Shall All Go After The Death Of The Vegetated [i.e. Mortal] Body. This World Of Imagination Is Infinite And Eternal, Whereas The World Of Generation Is Finite And Temporal. There Exist In That Eternal World The Eternal Realities Of Everything Which We See Reflected In This Vegetable Glass Of Nature.

If You Trap The Moment Before It's Ripe, The Tears Of Repentence You'll Certainly Wipe; But If Once You Let The Ripe Moment Go You Can Never Wipe Off The Tears Of Woe.

The Best Wine Is The Oldest, The Best Water The Newest.

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

He Who Shall Hurt The Little Wren Shall Never Be Beloved By Men.

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

Some Are Born To Sweet Delight, Some Are Born To Endless Night.

I Myself Do Nothing. The Holy Spirit Accomplishes All Through Me.

The Fox Condemns The Trap, Not Himself.

How Do You Know But Ev’ry Bird That Cuts The Airy Way, Is An Immense World Of Delight, Clos’d By Your Senses Five?

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.

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

God Forbid That Truth Should Be Confined To Mathematical Demonstration!

The Lust Of The Goat Is The Bounty Of God.

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.

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

Thought Provoking

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

The Eagle Never Lost So Much Time As When He Submitted To Learn Of The Crow

What Is Now Proved Was Once Only Imagined.

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.

The Sick Rose O Rose, Thou Art Sick. The Invisible Worm That Flies In The Night In The Howling Storm Has Found Out Thy Bed Of Crimson Joy, And His Dark Secret Love Does Thy Life Destroy.

Prepare Your Hearts For Death's Cold Hand! Prepare Your Souls For Flight, Your Bodies For The Earth; Prepare Your Arms For Glorious Victory; Prepare Your Eyes To Meet A Holy God! Prepare, Prepare!

God Keep Me From The Divinity Of Yes And Nothe Yea Nay Creeping Jesus, From Supposing Up And Down To Be The Same Thing As Allexperimentalists Must Suppose.

Where Cheating Is, There's Mischief There.

I See The Past, Present & Future Existing All At Once Before Me.

Past Present Future

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

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

Better To Shun The Bait Than Struggle In The Snare.

Imagination Is The Real And Eternal World Of Which This Vegetable Universe Is But A Faint Shadow.

Never Seek To Tell Thy Love; Love That Never Told Can Be. For The Gentle Wind Does Move Silently.. Invisibly.

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

Innocence And Experience

Does A Firm Persuasion That A Thing Is So, Make It So?

The Cut Worm Forgives The Plow.

Nature In Darkness Groans And Men Are Bound To Sullen Contemplation In The Night: Restless They Turn On Beds Of Sorrow; In Their Inmost Brain Feeling The Crushing Wheels, They Rise, They Write The Bitter Words Of Stern Philosophy And Knead The Bread Of Knowledge With Tears And Groans.

You Cannot Have Liberty In This World Without What You Call Moral Virtue, And You Cannot Have Moral Virtue Without The Slavery Of That Half Of The Human Race Who Hate What You Call Moral Virtue.

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