Poetry: "Auguries of Innocence" by William Blake (read by Michael Sheen)

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  • čas přidán 5. 09. 2024
  • "Auguries of Innocence" by William Blake
    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
    Source: Great Poets of the Romantic Age, 1994
    ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆
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