THE HUMAN ABSTRACT (POEM) BY WILLIAM BLAKE

THE HUMAN ABSTRACT (POEM) 
WILLIAM BLAKE

William Blake was a poet, painter and engraver. He abhorred the rationalism and materialism of his times. What he saw and painted were human beings beset with evil, yet striving for the divine within them. Blake’s lyrics appeared in two sets of volumes: Songs of Innocence (from which The Divine Image has been chosen) and Songs of Experience (from which The Human Abstract has been taken) representing the two contrary states of the human soul. Most of the poems in the first volume have counterparts in the second.

Pity would be no more

If we did not make somebody Poor;

And Mercy no more could be

If all were as happy as we.

And mutual fear brings peace,

Till the selfish loves increase:

Then Cruelty knits a snare,

And spreads his baits with care.

He sits down with holy fears,

And waters the ground with tears;

Then Humility takes its root

Underneath his foot.

Soon spreads the dismal shade

Of Mystery over his head;

And the Caterpillar and Fly

Feed on the Mystery.

And it bears the fruit of Deceit,

Ruddy and sweet to eat;

And the Raven his nest has made

In its thickest shade.

The Gods of the earth and sea

Sought thro’ Nature to find this Tree;

But their search was all in vain: 

There grows one in the Human Brain.

THE DIVINE IMAGE (POEM) BY WILLIAM BLAKE

THE DIVINE IMAGE (POEM)  

WILLIAM BLAKE

William Blake was a poet, painter and engraver. He abhorred the rationalism and materialism of his times. What he saw and painted were human beings beset with evil, yet striving for the divine within them. Blake’s lyrics appeared in two sets of volumes: Songs of Innocence (from which The Divine Image has been chosen) and Songs of Experience (from which The Human Abstract has been taken) representing the two contrary states of the human soul. Most of the poems in the first volume have counterparts in the second.

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, and Pity dwell

There God is dwelling too.

ON SHAKESPEAR 1630 (POEM) BY JOHN MILTON

ON SHAKESPEAR 1630 (POEM) BY JOHN MILTON

John Milton began writing poetry at the age of ten. After finishing his formal education at Cambridge, he read almost everything available in Latin, Greek, Italian and English. He was appointed Latin Secretary where he worked so hard that eyestrain, from years of late night reading, caused him to become totally blind at the age of forty- five. In the final years of his life he wrote (through dictation) Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained.

What needs my Shakespear for his honour’d Bones,

The labour of an age in piled Stones,

Or that his hallow’d reliques should be hid

Under a Star-ypointing Pyramid?

Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame,

What need’st thou such weak witness of thy name?

Thou in our wonder and astonishment

Hast built thy self a live-long Monument.

For whilst to th’shame of slow endeavouring art,

Thy easie numbers flow, and that each heart

Hath from the leaves of thy unvalu’d Book,

Those Delphic lines with deep impression took,

Then thou our fancy of it self bereaving

Dost make us Marble with too much conceaving;

And so Sepulcher’d in such pomp dost lie,

That Kings for such a Tomb would wish to die.

ON TIME (POEM) BY JOHN MILTON

ON TIME (POEM) BY JOHN MILTON

John Milton began writing poetry at the age of ten. After finishing his formal education at Cambridge, he read almost everything available in Latin, Greek, Italian and English. He was appointed Latin Secretary where he worked so hard that eyestrain, from years of late night reading, caused him to become totally blind at the age of forty- five. In the final years of his life he wrote (through dictation) Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained.

Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race,

Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,

Whose speed is but the heavy Plummets pace;

And glut thy self with what thy womb devours,

Which is no more than what is false and vain,

And merely mortal dross;

So little is our loss,

So little is thy gain.

For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb’d,

And last of all, thy greedy self consum’d,

Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss

With an individual kiss;

And Joy shall overtake us as a flood,

When every thing that is sincerely good

And perfectly divine,

With Truth, and Peace, and Love shall ever shine

About the supreme Throne

Of him, t’whose happy-making sight alone,

When once our heav’nly guided soul shall clime,

Then all this Earthy grossnes quit,

Attir’d with Stars, we shall for ever sit,

Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee O Time.

A LECTURE UPON THE SHADOW - JOHN DONNE

A LECTURE UPON THE SHADOW 

JOHN DONNE

John Donne was representative of the metaphysical poets of his time. He set the metaphysical mode by vibrancy of language and startling imagery, and a preference for a diction modeled on direct utterances. He was brought up as a Roman Catholic (later he converted to Anglicanism), and was Dean of St. Paul’s Church till his death. The total effect of a metaphysical poem at its best is to startle the reader into seeing and knowing what he has not really noticed or thought about before. Like all Donne’s poetry this poem too reflects an emphasis on the intellect and wit as against feeling and emotion.

Stand still and I will read to thee

A Lecture, Love, in loves philosophy,

These three houres that we have spent,

Walking here, Two shadowes went

Along with us, which we our selves produc’d;

But, now the Sunne is just above our head,

We doe those shadowes tread;

And to brave clearnesse all things are reduc’d.

So whilst our infant loves did grow,

Disguises did, and shadowes, flow,

From us, and our cares; but now ’tis not so.

That love hath not attain’d the high’st degree,

Which is still diligent lest others see.

Except our loves at this noone stay,

We shall new shadowes make the other way.

As the first were made to blinde

Others; these which come behinde

Will worke upon our selves, and blind our eyes.

If our loves faint, and westwardly decline;

To me thou, falsely thine;

And I to thee mine actions shall disguise.

The morning shadowes were away,

But these grow longer all the day,

But oh, loves day is short, if love decay.

Love is a growing, or full constant light; And his first minute, after noone, is night.