Songs of Innocence and Experience: with Other PoemsBasil Montagu Pickering, 1866 - 108 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 17
Página xv
... bright ; Gave thee such a tender voice Making all the vales rejoice ; Little lamb , who made thee ? 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 ...
... bright ; Gave thee such a tender voice Making all the vales rejoice ; Little lamb , who made thee ? 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 ...
Página 12
... bright key , And he open'd the coffins and set them all free ; Then down a green plain , leaping , laughing they run , And wash in a river and shine in the sun . Charles Lamb , who sent the above poem as a contribu- tion to a volume ...
... bright key , And he open'd the coffins and set them all free ; Then down a green plain , leaping , laughing they run , And wash in a river and shine in the sun . Charles Lamb , who sent the above poem as a contribu- tion to a volume ...
Página 22
... 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 22 SONGS OF 22.
... 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 22 SONGS OF 22.
Página 24
... think on Him who bore thy name , Graze after thee , and weep . For , wash'd in life's river , My bright mane for ever Shall shine like the gold As I guard o'er the fold . " SPRING . OUND the flute ! Now it's mute . 24 SONGS OF.
... think on Him who bore thy name , Graze after thee , and weep . For , wash'd in life's river , My bright mane for ever Shall shine like the gold As I guard o'er the fold . " SPRING . OUND the flute ! Now it's mute . 24 SONGS OF.
Página 46
... . HE modest rose puts forth a thorn , TH The humble sheep a threatening horn ; While the lily white shall in love delight , Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright . THE SICK ROSE . O ROSE , thou art sick- 46 SONGS OF The Lily.
... . HE modest rose puts forth a thorn , TH The humble sheep a threatening horn ; While the lily white shall in love delight , Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright . THE SICK ROSE . O ROSE , thou art sick- 46 SONGS OF The Lily.
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Songs of Innocence & of Experience: (Annotated Edition) William Blake Sin vista previa disponible - 2021 |
Términos y frases comunes
Allan Cunningham angel of Providence another's arm'd BASIL MONTAGU PICKERING beauty beguiles birds black black cloud blossoms bore bright CATULLUS Charles Lamb child Cloth deep desert wild devil Dost dread echoing green edition Engraved Title pub eyes face fairy skipp'd Fcap fear fill'd fled flower Frontispiece and Engraved frowning gold golden grave grief hand happy hear heaven HOLY THURSDAY human dress infant small Innocence and Experience kiss Land of Dreams laugh LITTLE BOY LOST Little lamb Long John Brown Lyca Lyrical Ballads maiden Mary Bell mercy Merrily merry mild morning never night o'er pale pipe pity pleasant poor Portrait and Engraved pretty rose-tree PROPERTIUS round shine sigh sing SONGS OF EXPERIENCE Songs of Innocence sorrow soul Stothard Sweet joy sweet love Sweet smiles tears tender Tennyson thee thou TIBULLUS tigers trembling uncut vols WALTON'S wandering wept William Blake William Bond Wordsworth youth
Pasajes populares
Página xv - I'll tell thee: He is called by thy name, For He calls Himself a Lamb. He is meek, and He is mild; He became a little child. I a child, and thou a lamb, We are called by His name. Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Página 20 - 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 heaven's high bower, With silent delight, Sits and smiles on the night.
Página 63 - I wander thro' each charter'd street Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear: How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls, And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls; But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear.
Página 1 - 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 :
Página 48 - I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turned to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore.
Página xv - Softest clothing, woolly, bright ; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little lamb, who made thee ? Dost thou know who made thee ? Little...
Página 51 - TIGER, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry ? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes ? On what wings dare he aspire ? What the hand dare seize the fire ? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
Página 52 - Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Página 18 - Thames waters flow. O what a multitude they seemed, 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 and girls raising their innocent hands. Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, 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.
Página 105 - The door of death is made of gold, That mortal eyes cannot behold ; But when the mortal eyes are closed, And cold and pale the limbs reposed, The soul awakes, and wondering sees In her mild hand the golden keys.