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G&B: Apologies to Sting

It's been a blast, folks. The Worlds Most Popular Podcast is signing off. Truth to be told, there's not enough hours in the day for ...

Thursday, October 20, 2011

blake's book..

As a web junkie and avid Google user, I know I should've known about Google Books before. I just started using it today. Granted, they need more selection for the cheap readers who don't want to spend a buck to buy a virtual book, but what I found I'm content with. Classics are always worth another whirl. The first e-book I read while having my tomato soup lunch (which was excellent, by the way, especially with my whole grain bread slices), was Songs of Innocence and Experience With Other Poems by .. In his manner, Blake delighted me with a few great poems that had me both laughing, tearing and a bit of both for a couple. Thought I'd share a couple of dandies with you..


A Little Boy Lost

``Nought loves another as itself,
Nor venerates another so,
Nor is it possible to Thought
A greater than itself to know:
``And Father, how can I love you
Or any of my brothers more?
I love you like the little bird
That picks up crumbs around the door.''
The Priest sat by and heard the child,
In trembling zeal he siez'd his hair:
He led him by his little coat,
And all admir'd the Priestly care.
And standing on the altar high,
``Lo! what a fiend is here!'' said he,
``One who sets reason up for judge
Of our most holy Mystery.''
The weeping child could not be heard,
The weeping parents wept in vain;
They strip'd him to his little shirt,
And bound him in an iron chain;
And burn'd him in a holy place,
Where many had been burn'd before:
The weeping parents wept in vain.
Are such things done on Albion's shore?




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 in the desart wild
Become a garden mild.
* * *
In the southern clime,
Where the summer's prime
Never fades away,
Lovely Lyca lay.
Seven summers old
Lovely Lyca told;
She had wander'd long
Hearing wild birds' song.
``Sweet sleep, come to me
Underneath this tree.
Do father, mother weep,
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,
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 gamboll'd round
O'er the hollow'd 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
Loos'd her slender dress,
And naked they convey'd
To caves the sleeping maid.