scoffs at Love:–

I have not eat these two days lead me to Har & Hevas tent

20  Or I will wrap the[e] up in such a terrible fathers curse

That thou shalt feel worms in thy marrow creeping thro thy bones

Yet thou shalt lead me. Lead me I command to Har & Heva

O cruel O destroyer O consumer. O avenger

To Har & Heva I will lead thee then would that they would curse

Then would they curse as thou hast cursed but they are not like thee

O they are holy. & forgiving filld with loving mercy

Forgetting the offences of their most rebellious children

Or else thou wouldest not have livd to curse thy helpless children

Look on my eyes Hela & see for thou hast eyes to see

30  The tears swell from my stony fountains wherefore do I weep

Wherefore from my blind orbs art thou not siezd with poisnous stings

Laugh serpent youngest venomous reptile of the flesh of Tiriel

Laugh. for thy father Tiriel shall give the[e] cause to laugh

Unless thou lead me to the tent of Har child of the curse

Silence thy evil tongue thou murderer of thy helpless children

I lead thee to the tent of Har not that I mind thy curse

But that I feel they will curse thee & hang upon thy bones

Fell shaking agonies. & in each wrinkle of that face

Plant worms of death to feast upon the tongue of terrible curses

40  Hela my daughter listen. thou [child] art the daughter of Tiriel

Thy father calls. Thy father lifts his hand unto the [air] heavens

For thou hast laughed at my tears. & curst thy aged father

Let snakes rise from thy bedded locks & laugh among thy curls

He ceast her dark hair upright stood while snakes infolded round

Her madding brows. her shrieks appalld the soul of Tiriel

What have I done Hela my daughter fearst thou now the curse

Or wherefore dost thou cry Ah wretch to curse thy aged father

Lead me to Har & Heva & the curse of Tiriel

Shall (fall) fail. If thou refuse howl in the desolate mountains

7
She howling led him over mountains & thro frighted vales

Till to the caves of Zazel they approachd at even tide

Forth from their caves [the sons of Zazel] old Zazel & his sons ran. [&] when they saw

Their tyrant prince blind & his daughter howling & leading him

They laughd & mocked some threw dirt & stones as they passd by

But when Tiriel turnd around & raisd his awful voice

[They fled away (& hid themselves) but some stood still & thus scoffing began]

Some fled away but Zazel stood still & thus began

Bald tyrant, wrinkled cunning [wretch] listen to Zazels chains

10  Twas thou that chaind thy brother Zazel where are now

thine eyes

Shout beautiful daughter of Tiriel. thou singest a sweet song

Where are you going. come & eat some roots & drink some water

Thy crown is bald old man. the sun will dry thy brains away

And thou wilt be as foolish as thy foolish brother Zazel

The blind man heard. & smote his breast & trembling passed on

They threw dirt after them. till to the covert of a wood

[They] The howling maiden led her father where wild beasts resort

Hoping to end her [life] woes. but from her cries the tygers fled

All night they wanderd thro the wood & when the sun arose

20  They enterd on the mountains of Har at Noon the happy tents

Were frighted by the dismal cries of Hela on the mountains

But Har & Heva slept fearless as babes. on loving breasts

Mnetha awoke she ran & stood at the tent door [in]& saw

The aged wanderer led towards the tents she took her bow

And ehose her arrows then advancd to meet the terrible pair

8
And Mnetha hasted & met them at the gate of the lower garden

Stand still or from my bow recieve a sharp & winged death

Then Tiriel stood. saying what soft voice threatens such bitter things

Lead me to Har & Heva I am Tiriel King of the west

And Mnetha led them to the tent of Har. and Har & Heva

Ran to the door. when Tiriel felt the ankles of aged Har

He said. O weak mistaken father of a lawless race

Thy laws O Har & Tiriels wisdom end together in a curse

[Thy God of love thy heaven of joy]

10  Why is one law given to the lion & the [Ox] patient Ox

[Dost thou not see that men cannot be formed all alike

Some nostrild wide breathing out blood. Some close shut up

In silent deceit, poisons inhaling from the morning rose

With daggers hid beneath their lips & poison in their tongue

Or eyed with little sparks of Hell or with infernal brands

Flinging flames of discontent & plagues of dark despair

Or those whose mouths are graves whose teeth the gates of eternal death

Can wisdom be put in a silver rod or love in a golden bowl

Is the son of a king warmed without wool or does he cry with a voice

20  Of thunder does he look upon the sun & laugh or stretch

His little hands into the depths of the sea, to bring forth

The deadly cunning of the (scaly tribe) flatterer & spread it to the morning]

And why men bound beneath the heavens in a reptile form

A worm of sixty winters creeping on the dusky ground

The child springs from the womb. the father ready stands to form

The infant head while the mother idle plays with her dog on her couch

The young bosom is cold for lack of mothers nourishment & milk

Is cut off from the weeping mouth with difficulty & pain

The little lids are lifted & the little nostrils opend

The father forms a whip to rouze the sluggish senses to act

And scourges off all youthful fancies from the new-born  30 man

Then walks the weak infant in sorrow compelld to number footsteps

Upon the sand. &c

And when the [foolish crawling] drone has reachd his crawling length

Black berries appear that poison all around him. Such [is] was Tiriel

[Hypocrisy the idiots wisdom & the wise mans folly]

Compelld to pray repugnant & to humble the immortal spirit

Till I am subtil as a serpent in a paradise

Consuming all both flowers & fruits insects & warbling birds

And now my paradise is falln & a drear sandy plain

40  Returns my thirsty hissings in a curse on thee O Har

Mistaken father of a lawless race my voice is past

He ceast outstretchd at Har & Hevas feet in awful death

SONGS OF INNOCENCE AND OF EXPERIENCE

Shewing the Two Contrary States of the Human Soul

Songs of Innocence

INTRODUCTION

Piping down the valleys wild
Piping songs of pleasant glee
On a cloud I saw a child.
And he laughing said to me.

Pipe a song about a Lamb;
So I piped with merry chear,
Piper pipe that song again –
So I piped, he wept to hear.

Drop thy pipe thy happy pipe

10   Sing thy songs of happy chear,

So I sung the same again
While he wept with joy to hear

Piper sit thee down and write
In a book that all may read –
So he vanish’d from my sight.
And I pluck’d a hollow reed.

And I made a rural pen,
And I stain’d the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs

20   Every child may joy to hear

THE SHEPHERD

How sweet is the Shepherds sweet lot,
From the morn to the evening he strays:
He shall follow his sheep all the day
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.

For he hears the lambs innocent call.
And he hears the ewes tender reply.
He is watchful while they are in peace.
For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.

THE ECCHOING GREEN

The Sun does arise,
And make happy the skies.
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring.
The sky-lark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around.
To the bells chearful sound.
While our sports shall be seen

10    On the Ecchoing Green.

Old John with white hair
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk,
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say.
Such such were the joys.
When we all girls & boys,
In our youth-time were seen,

20   On the Ecchoing Green.

Till the little ones weary
No more can be merry
The sun does descend.
And our sports have an end:
Round the laps of their mothers,
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest;
And sport no more seen,

30   On the darkening Green.

THE LAMB

   Little Lamb who made thee

   Dost thou know who made thee

Gave thee life & bid thee feed.
By the stream & o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing wooly bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice:

          Little Lamb who made thee

10      Dost thou know who made thee

   Little Lamb I’ll tell thee,

   Little Lamb I’ll tell thee:

He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb:
He is meek & he is mild,
He became a little child:
I a child & thou a lamb,
We are called by his name.

          Little Lamb God bless thee.

20       Little Lamb God bless thee.

THE LITTLE BLACK BOY

My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
White as an angel is the English child:
But I am black as if bereav’d of light.

My mother taught me underneath a tree
And sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say.

Look on the rising sun: there God does live

10   And gives his light, and gives his heat away.

And flowers and trees and beasts and men recieve
Comfort in morning joy in the noon day.

And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love,
And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.

For when our souls have learn’d the heat to bear
The cloud will vanish we shall hear his voice.
Saying: come out from the grove my love & care,

20   And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.

Thus did my mother say and kissed me,
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy:

Ill shade him from the heat till he can bear,
To lean in joy upon our fathers knee.
And then I’ll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him and he will then love me.

THE BLOSSOM

Merry Merry Sparrow
Under leaves so green
A happy Blossom
Sees you swift as arrow
Seek your cradle narrow
Near my Bosom.

Pretty Pretty Robin
Under leaves so green
A happy Blossom

10   Hears you sobbing sobbing

Pretty Pretty Robin
Near my Bosom.

THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER

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 & in soot I sleep.

Theres little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head
That curl’d like a lambs back, was shav’d, so I said.
Hush Tom never mind it, for when your head’s bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.

And so he was quiet, & that very night,

10   As Tom was a sleeping he had such a sight,

That thousands of sweepers Dick, Joe Ned & Jack
Were all of them lock’d up in coffins of black

And by came an Angel who had a bright key,
And he open’d the coffins & set them all free.
Then down a green plain leaping laughing they run
And wash in a river and shine in the Sun.

Then naked & white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind.
And the Angel told Tom if he’d be a good boy,

20   He’d have God for his father & never want joy.

And so Tom awoke and we rose in the dark
And got with our bags & our brushes to work.
Tho’ the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm,
So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.

THE LITTLE BOY LOST

Father, father, where are you going
O do not walk so fast.
Speak father, speak to your little boy
Or else I shall be lost,

The night was dark no father was there
The child was wet with dew.
The mire was deep, & the child did weep
And away the vapour flew.

THE LITTLE BOY FOUND

The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wand’ring light,
Began to cry, but God ever nigh,
Appeard like his father in white.

He kissed the child & by the hand led
And to his mother brought,
Who in sorrow pale, thro’ the lonely date
Her little boy weeping sought.

LAUGHING SONG

When the green woods laugh, with the voice of joy
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by,
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it.

When the meadows laugh with lively green
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene,
When Mary and Susan and Emily,
With their sweet round mouths sing Ha, Ha, He.

When the painted birds laugh in the shade

10   Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread

Come live & be merry and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of Ha, Ha, He.

A CRADLE SONG

Sweet dreams form a shade,
O’er my lovely infants head.
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams.
By happy silent moony beams.

Sweet sleep with soft down,
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet sleep Angel mild,
Hover o’er my happy child.

Sweet smiles in the night,

10   Hover over my delight.

Sweet smiles Mothers smiles
All the livelong night beguiles.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes.
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles.
All the dovelike moans beguiles.

Sleep sleep happy child.
All creation slept and smil’d.
Sleep sleep happy sleep.

20   While o’er thee thy mother weep

Sweet babe in thy face,
Holy image I can trace.
Sweet babe once like thee,
Thy maker lay and wept for me

Wept for me for thee for all.
When he was an infant small.
Thou his image ever see.
Heavenly face that smiles on thee.

Smiles on thee on me on all,

30   Who became an infant small,

Infant smiles are his own smiles.
Heaven & earth to peace beguiles.

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

10   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

20   There God is dwelling too.

HOLY THURSDAY

Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean

The children walking two & two in red & blue & green

Grey headed beadles walkd before with wands as white as snow

Till into the high dome of Pauls they like Thames waters flow

O what a multitude they seemd these flowers of London town

Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own

The hum of multitudes was there but multitudes of lambs

Thousands of little boys & girls raising their innocent hands

Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song

10  Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among

Beneath them sit the aged men wise guardians of the poor

Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door

NIGHT

The sun descending in the west
The evening star does shine.
The birds are silent in their nest,
And I must seek for mine,
The moon like a flower,
In heavens high bower;
With silent delight,
Sits and smiles on the night.

Farewell green fields and happy groves,

10   Where flocks have took delight;

Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom,
And each sleeping bosom.

They look in every thoughtless nest,
Where birds are coverd warm;
They visit caves of every beast,

20   To keep them all from harm;

If they see any weeping,
That should have been sleeping
They pour sleep on their head
And sit down by their bed.

When wolves and tygers howl for prey
They pitying stand and weep;
Seeking to drive their thirst away,
And keep them from the sheep.
But if they rush dreadful;

30   The angels most heedful,

Recieve each mild spirit,
New worlds to inherit.

And there the lions ruddy eyes,
Shall flow with tears of gold:
And pitying the tender cries,
And walking round the fold:
Saying: wrath by his meekness
And by his health, sickness,
Is driven away,

40   From our immortal day.

And now beside thee bleating lamb,
I can lie down and sleep;
Or think on him who bore thy name,
Grase after thee and weep.
For wash’d in lifes river,
My bright mane for ever.
Shall shine like the gold.
As I guard o’er the fold.

SPRING

Sound the Flute!
Now it’s mute.
Birds delight
Day and Night.
Nightingale
In the dale
Lark in Sky
Merrily
Merrily Merrily to welcome in the Year

10   Little Boy

Full of joy.
Little Girl
Sweet and small,
Cock does crow
So do you.
Merry voice
Infant noise
Merrily Merrily to welcome in the Year

Little Lamb

20   Here I am,

Come and lick
My white neck.
Let me pull
Your soft Wool.
Let me kiss
Your soft face.
Merrily Merrily we welcome in the Year

NURSE’S SONG

When the voices of children are heard on the green
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast
And every thing else is still

Then come home my children, the sun is gone down
And the dews of night arise
Come come leave off play, and let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies

No no let us play, for it is yet day

10   And we cannot go to sleep

Besides in the sky, the little birds fly
And the hills are all covered with sheep

Well well go & play till the light fades away
And then go home to bed
The little ones leaped & shouted & laugh’d
And all the hills ecchoed

INFANT JOY

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!

10   Sweet joy but two days old.

Sweet joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile.

I sing the while
Sweet joy befall thee.

A DREAM

Once a dream did weave a shade,
O’er my Angel-guarded bed,
That an Emmet lost it’s way
Where on grass methought I lay.

Troubled wilderd and folorn
Dark benighted travel-worn,
Over many a tangled spray
All heart-broke I heard her say.

O my children! do they cry

10   Do they hear their father sigh.

Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me.

Pitying I drop’d a tear:
But I saw a glow-worm near:
Who replied. What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night.

I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetles hum,

20   Little wanderer hie thee home.

ON ANOTHERS SORROW

Can I see anothers woe,
And not be in sorrow too.
Can I see anothers grief,
And not seek for kind relief.

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrows share,
Can a father see his child,
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill’d.

Can a mother sit and hear,

10   An infant groan an infant fear –

No no never can it be.
Never never can it be.

And can he who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small birds grief & care
Hear the woes that infants bear –

And not sit beside the nest
Pouring pity in their breast,
And not sit the cradle near

20   Weeping tear on infants tear.

And not sit both night & day,
Wiping all our tears away.
O! no never can it be.
Never never can it be.

He doth give his joy to all.
He becomes an infant small.
He becomes a man of woe
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not, thou canst sigh a sigh,

30   And thy maker is not by.

Think not, thou canst weep a tear,
And thy maker is not near.

O! he gives to us his joy,
That our grief he may destroy
Till our grief is fled & gone
He doth sit by us and moan

Songs of Experience

INTRODUCTION

Hear the voice of the Bard!
Who Present, Past, & Future sees
Whose ears have heard,
The Holy Word,
That walk’d among the ancient trees.

Calling the lapsed Soul
And weeping in the evening dew:
That might controll,
The starry pole;

10   And fallen fallen light renew!

O Earth O Earth return!
Arise from out the dewy grass;
Night is worn,
And the morn
Rises from the slumberous mass.

Turn away no more:
Why wilt thou turn away
The starry floor
The watry shore

20   Is giv’n thee till the break of day.

EARTH’S ANSWER

Earth rais’d up her head,
From the darkness dread & drear.
Her light fled:
Stony dread!
And her locks cover’d with grey despair.

Prison’d on watry shore
Starry Jealousy does keep my den
Cold and hoar
Weeping o’er

10   I hear the Father of the ancient men

Selfish father of men
Cruel jealous selfish fear
Can delight
Chain’d in night
The virgins of youth and morning bear.

Does spring hide its joy
When buds and blossoms grow?
Does the sower?
Sow by night?

20   Or the plowman in darkness plow?

Break this heavy chain,
That does freeze my bones around
Selfish! vain,
Eternal bane!
That free Love with bondage bound.

THE CLOD & THE PEBBLE

Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hells despair.

So sang a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden with the cattles feet:
But a Pebble of the brook,
Warbled out these metres meet.

Love seeketh only Self to please,

10   To bind another to its delight;

Joys in anothers loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

HOLY THURSDAY

Is this a holy thing to see,
In a rich and fruitful land,
Babes reduced to misery,
Fed with cold and usurous hand?

Is that trembling cry a song?
Can it be a song of joy?
And so many children poor?
It is a land of poverty!

And their sun does never shine.

10   And their fields are bleak & bare.

And their ways are fill’d with thorns.
It is eternal winter there.

For where-e’er the sun does shine,
And where-e’er the rain does fall:
Babe can never hunger there,
Nor poverty the mind appall.

THE LITTLE GIRL LOST

In futurity
I prophetic see,
That the earth from sleep,
(Grave the sentence deep)

Shall arise and seek
For her maker meek:
And the desart wild
Become a garden mild.

In the southern clime,

10   Where the summers prime,

Never fades away;
Lovely Lyca lay.

Seven summers old
Lovely Lyca told.
She had wanderd long,
Hearing wild birds song.

Sweet sleep come to me
Underneath this tree;
Do father, mother weep. –

20  ‘Where can Lyca sleep’.

Lost in desart wild
Is your little child.
How can Lyca sleep,
If her mother weep.

If her heart does ake,
Then let Lyca wake;
If my mother sleep,
Lyca shall not weep.

Frowning frowning night,

30   O’er this desart bright,

Let thy moon arise,
While I close my eyes.

Sleeping Lyca lay;
While the beasts of prey,
Come from caverns deep,
View’d the maid asleep

The kingly lion stood
And the virgin view’d,
Then he gambold round

40   O’er the hallowd ground:

Leopards, tygers play,
Round her as she lay;
While the lion old,
Bow’d his mane of gold.

And her bosom lick,
And upon her neck,
From his eyes of flame,
Ruby tears there came;

While the lioness,

50   Loos’d her slender dress,

And naked they convey’d
To caves the sleeping maid.

THE LITTLE GIRL FOUND

All the night in woe
Lyca’s parents go:
Over vallies deep,
While the desarts weep.

Tired and woe-begone,
Hoarse with making moan:
Arm in arm seven days,
They trac’d the desart ways.

Seven nights they sleep,

10   Among shadows deep:

And dream they see their child
Starv’d in desart wild.

Pale thro pathless ways
The fancied image strays,
Famish’d, weeping, weak
With hollow piteous shriek

Rising from unrest,
The trembling woman prest,
With feet of weary woe;

20   She could no further go.

In his arms he bore,
Her arm’d with sorrow sore;
Till before their way,
A couching lion lay.

Turning back was vain,
Soon his heavy mane,
Bore them to the ground;
Then he stalk’d around,

Smelling to his prey.

30   But their fears allay,

When he licks their hands;
And silent by them stands.

They look upon his eyes
Fill’d with deep surprise:
And wondering behold,
A spirit arm’d in gold.

On his head a crown
On his shoulders down,
Flow’d his golden hair.

40   Gone was all their care.

Follow me he said,
Weep not for the maid;
In my palace deep,
Lyca lies asleep.

Then they followed,
Where the vision led:
And saw their sleeping child,
Among tygers wild.

To this day they dwell

50   In a lonely dell

Nor fear the wolvish howl,
Nor the lions growl.

THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER

A little black thing among the snow:
Crying weep, weep.