Infant Joy

- 1757-1827
"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!

Pretty joy!
Sweet joy, but two days old.
Sweet Joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while;
Sweet joy befall thee!

More by William Blake

The Divine Image

To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love,
All pray in their distress:
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love,
Is God, our father dear:
And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love,
Is Man, his child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity, a human face:
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.

And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk, or Jew.
Where Mercy, Love, & Pity dwell,
There God is dwelling too.

A Divine Image

Cruelty has a Human heart
And Jealousy a Human Face,
Terror, the Human Form Divine,
And Secrecy, the Human Dress.

The Human Dress is forgéd Iron,
The Human Form, a fiery Forge,
The Human Face, a Furnace seal'd,
The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge.

Milton [excerpt]

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?  
  
And did the Countenance Divine     
   Shine forth upon our clouded hills?  
And was Jerusalem builded here  
   Among these dark Satanic Mills?  
  
Bring me my bow of burning gold!  
   Bring me my arrows of desire!  
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!  
   Bring me my chariot of fire!  
  
I will not cease from mental fight,  
   Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,  
Till we have built Jerusalem    
   In England’s green and pleasant land.