The Lilly - William Blake

aliteratelife:

The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble Sheep a threat’ning horn;
While the Lilly white shall in Love delight,
Nor a thorn, nor a threat, stain her beauty bright

4 months ago · 1 note · Source · Reblogged from aliteratelife

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
1,901
Plays
English Romantic Poets Gangster Rap
Artist: John Green

karlfranks:

John Green - English Romantic Poets gangster rap.

6 months ago · 439 notes · Source · Reblogged from effyeahnerdfighters

LONDON
William Blake

I wander through each chartered street,
   Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
A 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-forged manacles I hear:

How the chimney-sweeper’s cry
   Every blackening church appals,
And the hapless soldier’s sigh
   Runs in blood down palace-walls.

But most, through midnight streets I hear
   How the youthful harlot’s curse
Blasts the new-born infant’s tear,
   And blights with plagues the marriage hearse.

8 months ago · Notes

THE LILY
William Blake

The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat’ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.

8 months ago · Notes

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
380
Plays
Jeremy Irons reads William Blake's poem,
Artist: The Morgan Library & Museum

2ways2cwords:

itnumberpi:emptythreats: [via inajumble] “The Tyger” by William Blake, read by Jeremy Irons The Morgan Library

This is amazing, and now I want to go watch The Lion King

1 year ago · 64 notes · Source · Reblogged from 2ways2cwords

The Lilly - William Blake

The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble Sheep a threat’ning horn;
While the Lilly white shall in Love delight,
Nor a thorn, nor a threat, stain her beauty bright

1 year ago · 1 note

The Tyger, William Blake

TYGER, tyger, 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?
And, when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
 
What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
 
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water’d heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
 
Tyger, Tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

1 year ago · Notes