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Michaeldavitt — Stand for the Innocents

Published: 2024-02-16 00:00:26 +0000 UTC; Views: 1278; Favourites: 15; Downloads: 0
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    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

    A Robin Red breast in a Cage

    Puts all Heaven in a Rage 

    A Dove house filld with Doves & Pigeons

    Shudders Hell thr' all its regions 

    A dog starvd at his Masters Gate

    Predicts the ruin of the State 

    A Horse misusd 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 in the wing 

    A Cherubim does cease to sing 

    The Game Cock clipd & armd for fight

    Does the Rising Sun affright 

    Every Wolfs & Lions howl

    Raises from Hell a Human Soul 

    The wild deer, wandring here & there 

    Keeps the Human Soul from Care 

    The Lamb misusd breeds Public Strife

    And yet forgives the Butchers knife 

    The Bat that flits at close of Eve

    Has left the Brain that wont Believe

    The Owl that calls upon the Night

    Speaks the Unbelievers fright

    He who shall hurt the little Wren

    Shall never be belovd by Men 

    He who the Ox to wrath has movd

    Shall never be by Woman lovd

    The wanton Boy that kills the Fly

    Shall feel the Spiders enmity 

    He who torments the Chafers Sprite

    Weaves a Bower in endless Night 

    The Catterpiller on the Leaf

    Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief 

    Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly 

    For the Last Judgment draweth nigh 

    He who shall train the Horse to War

    Shall never pass the Polar Bar 

    The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat 

    Feed them & thou wilt grow fat 

    The Gnat that sings his Summers Song

    Poison gets from Slanders tongue 

    The poison of the Snake & Newt

    Is the sweat of Envys Foot 

    The poison of the Honey Bee

    Is the Artists Jealousy

    The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags

    Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags 

    A Truth thats told with bad intent

    Beats all the Lies you can invent 

    It is right it should be so 

    Man was made for Joy & Woe 

    And when this we rightly know 

    Thro the World we safely go 

    Joy & Woe are woven fine 

    A Clothing for the soul divine 

    Under every grief & pine

    Runs a joy with silken twine 

    The Babe is more than swadling Bands

    Throughout all these Human Lands

    Tools were made & Born were hands 

    Every Farmer Understands

    Every Tear from Every Eye

    Becomes a Babe in Eternity 

    This is caught by Females bright

    And returnd to its own delight 

    The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar 

    Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore 

    The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath

    Writes Revenge in realms of Death 

    The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air

    Does to Rags the Heavens tear 

    The Soldier armd with Sword & Gun 

    Palsied strikes the Summers Sun

    The poor Mans Farthing is worth more

    Than all the Gold on Africs Shore

    One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands

    Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands 

    Or if protected from on high 

    Does that whole Nation sell & buy 

    He who mocks the Infants Faith

    Shall be mockd in Age & Death 

    He who shall teach the Child to Doubt

    The rotting Grave shall neer get out 

    He who respects the Infants faith

    Triumphs over Hell & Death 

    The Childs Toys & the Old Mans Reasons

    Are the Fruits of the Two seasons 

    The Questioner who sits so sly 

    Shall never know how to Reply 

    He who replies to words of Doubt

    Doth put the Light of Knowledge out 

    The Strongest Poison ever known

    Came from Caesars Laurel Crown 

    Nought can Deform the Human Race

    Like to the Armours iron brace 

    When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow

    To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow 

    A Riddle or the Crickets Cry

    Is to Doubt a fit Reply 

    The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile

    Make Lame Philosophy to smile 

    He who Doubts from what he sees

    Will neer Believe do what you Please 

    If the Sun & Moon should Doubt 

    Theyd immediately Go out 

    To be in a Passion you Good may Do 

    But no Good if a Passion is in you 

    The Whore & Gambler by the State

    Licencd build that Nations Fate 

    The Harlots cry from Street to Street 

    Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet 

    The Winners Shout the Losers Curse 

    Dance before dead Englands Hearse 

    Every Night & every Morn

    Some to Misery are Born 

    Every Morn and every Night

    Some are Born to sweet delight 

    Some are Born to sweet delight 

    Some are Born to Endless Night 

    We are led to Believe a Lie

    When we see not Thro the Eye

    Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night 

    When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light 

    God Appears & God is Light

    To those poor Souls who dwell in Night 

    But does a Human Form Display

    To those who Dwell in Realms of day


    ~ William Blake


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Tigles1Artistry [2024-02-17 17:50:29 +0000 UTC]

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