The Complete Poems

PENGUIN ENGLISH POETS
GENERAL EDITOR: CHRISTOPHER RICKS

WILLIAM BLAKE:
THE COMPLETE POEMS

WILLIAM BLAKE was born in Broad Street in 1757, the son of a London hosier. Having attended Henry Parr’s drawing school in the Strand, he was in 1772 apprenticed to Henry Basire, engraver to the Society of Antiquaries, and later was admitted as a student to the Royal Academy, where he exhibited in 1780. He married Catherine Boucher in 1782 and in 1783 published Poetical Sketches. The first of his ‘illuminated books’ was Songs of Innocence (1789), which, like The Book of Thel (published in the same year), has as its main themes the celebration of innocence and its inviolability.

Blake sets out his ideas more fully in his chief prose work, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1791), which proclaims his lifelong belief in the moral primacy of the imagination. But in Songs of Experience (1794) he recognizes the power of repression, and in a series of short narrative poems he looks for mankind’s redemption from oppression through a resurgence of imaginative life. By 1797 he was ready for epic; Vala was never finished, but in Milton and Jerusalem he presents his renewed vision of reconciliation among the warring fragments of humanity. Other striking poems of his middle years are the lyrics of the Pickering Manuscript, and The Everlasting Gospel, but in the last years of his life he expressed himself in drawing rather than poetry.

Little of Blake’s work was published on conventional form. He combined his vocations as poet and graphic artist to produce books that are visually stunning. He also designed illustrations of works by other poets and devised his own technique for producing large watercolour illustrations and colour-printed drawings. Blake died in 1827, ‘an Old Man feeble & tottering but not in Spirit & Life not in the Real Man The Imagination which Liveth for Ever’.

ALICIA OSTRIKER is Professor of English at Rutgers University, New Brunswick, New Jersey, USA.

Preface

William Blake is the rebel par excellence of English poetry, who sets his face against convention and restriction of every sort, glorifies untrammelled inspiration and defends the artist’s liberty, in matters of literary format as well as in his religious, political and social ideas. Almost none of his work was published in conventional printed form. Pursuing his vocations as poet and graphic artist simultaneously, he printed most of it himself, with text (in his own orthography) and illustrations commonly intertwined, by a method of etching he invented for the purpose. Copies of individual works often vary, not only in the character of the water-colour timings he gave them, but also in the order of the plates and in words or lines which appear in some copies but are deleted in others. Blake’s spelling, punctuation and grammar obey his individual temperament. Many of his poems, including some major ones, exist only in much-revised manuscript form.

No conventionally type-set edition of Blake’s poetry can compete, either in beauty or in clarity, with the original illuminated books produced by the poet; neither can it suggest the full complexity of the texts in manuscript. Given these limitations, however, the intention of this edition is to reproduce the work with as much fidelity as possible to the forms in which he wrote it. ‘Improvement makes strait roads; but the crooked roads without Improvement are roads of Genius,’ Blake remarked. Intrigued readers may be lured onward to the originals, or to the many excellent facsimile editions of them which fortunately exist today.

Spelling, grammar, punctuation. Most readers will not be troubled by Blake’s often archaic or eccentric spelling, his frequent use of capitalization for emphasis, his predilection for the rapid ‘&’ as opposed to the conventional ‘and’, and his sometimes crude grammar. These peculiarities have usually been accepted by Blake’s editors and readers alike as quirky but charming. A greater stumbling-block is Blake’s punctuation, which is at all times idiosyncratic, and at some times, particularly in the manuscript poems, virtually non-existent. Most standard editions of Blake have supplied a conventional punctuation, but to alter in this matter is clearly to distort. I have therefore followed the procedure of David V. Erdman in The Poetry and Prose of William Blake, retaining the poet’s punctuation and non-punctuation intact. As a rule, any punctuation mark may be taken simply as a sign for a greater or lesser pause in the flow of language, rather than as an indicator of grammatical relationships. With a little relaxation and practice, the reader will find that this is less difficult than it appears at first, and finally that it may create a sense of freedom and buoyancy, and an openness of syntactic construction, which bring considerable aesthetic and intellectual pleasure.

Revisions. In the presentation of textual variations, emendations, revisions, etc., a distinction is made between Blake’s manuscript poems and his finished work. For poems which Blake published (or had published or printed for him) in any form, and which we may thus suppose to be finished, the relatively few variations which exist are presented in the Notes. For poems which exist only in manuscript form, this material is incorporated in the text through italics and brackets, reproducing as far as possible the condition of the texts in their ‘workshop’ state, with successive stages of revision evident as one reads along. The assumption here is that unfinished poems should not be presented to the eye as if they were finished, and vice versa; and that the reader will benefit from an opportunity to sense Blake’s verse both as working process and as completed product. In this respect, the innovative and successful procedure of Geoffrey Keynes’s Nonesuch and Oxford editions of the Complete Writings is followed with gratitude.

Texts. The texts on which the present edition is based are those of David V. Erdman, The Poetry and Prose of William Blake, Doubleday, 1970. This volume should be consulted for complete detail in regard to Blake’s revisions, and for full discussion of textual complexities. There are some changes, particularly in punctuation. The marks ‘!’, ‘?’, ‘:’ and ‘;’ are often difficult to distinguish in Blake’s calligraphy. Erdman commonly transcribes ‘!’ where I find a colon or semi-colon. Blake’s full stops and commas are also difficult to tell apart, and he is rather skimpy about the latter. Thus in works where both ‘.’ and ‘,’ appear, they are retained (but the readings sometimes disagree with Erdman’s). In works where ‘.’ alone appears, and is evidently doing service for both conventional ‘.’ and conventional ‘,’ in the original, the present text follows what normal grammar and syntax would require. Another change is that Night VII [b] of The Four Zoas, which Erdman believes was ‘supplanted by VII [a]’, is here placed within the text rather than as an appendix, following the argument made by several scholars that Blake never definitively rejected this portion of the manuscript. A final alteration is that the Songs of Experience, which Blake printed in 1794, are here placed just after the Songs of Innocence (1789), for the reader’s convenience.

Notes and Dictionary of Proper Names. The Notes attempt to clarify what is difficult in Blake’s poetry, and to indicate where passages from the Bible, Milton and other sources seem necessary to explain a text or enrich our understanding of its implications. The Dictionary of Proper Names defines recurrent terms in Blake’s symbolic systems.

To express my gratitude to the multitude of Blake scholars who have shaped my comprehension of his poetry would be impossible. I have at each step walked particularly in the tracks of Geoffrey Keynes, David Erdman, G. E. Bentley, Jr, S. Foster Damon, Northrop Frye, Harold Bloom and W. H. Stevenson, and have gained knowledge and insight from many other commentators. I owe special thanks to Professor Erdman for assistance with texts and guidance through the labyrinths of the Notebook; to Morton Paley for advice on Jerusalem; and to James McGowan for the use of unpublished research on Poetical Sketches.

EDITORIAL MARKS

Material marked [thus] indicates a word, phrase or passage deleted, erased or emended in the manuscript.

Material marked [thus/ and so] indicates successive deletions within a passage, followed by a final accepted version.

Material marked [thus (this) and so] indicates a deletion within a passage that was afterwards itself deleted.

Table of Dates

1757	William Blake born on 28 November at 28 Broad St, London, to James Blake, a hosier, and Catherine Blake. Older brother James was born 1753; other siblings were John (b. 1760), Richard (b. 1762, died in infancy), Catherine Elizabeth (b. 1764), Robert (1767).
1765–7	Sees his first vision, a tree filled with angels on Peckham Rye, at the age of eight or ten; his father threatens to thrash him for lying, but his mother intercedes.
1767–8	Begins to attend Henry Parrs’s drawing school in the Strand.
1772	Apprenticed to the engraver Henry Basire.
1774	After arguments with other apprentices, sent to do drawings in Westminster Abbey for Basire.
1775	Beginning of the American War of Independence.
1779	Apprenticeship ended. Admitted as a student in the Royal Academy, under G. M. Moser. Friendship with fellow artists George Cumberland, John Flaxman, Thomas Stothard.
1780	Exhibits at Royal Academy. Witnesses Gordon No-Popery riots and the burning of Newgate Prison. Engraving plates for bookseller Joseph Johnson.
1782	Marries Catherine Boucher (b. 1762).
1783	Poetical Sketches printed for Blake by Flaxman and Rev. A. S. Mathew, but not publicly distributed.
1784	Father’s death; partnership with James Parker in a print-shop at 27 Broad St.
1785	Dissolves partnership, moves to 28 Poland St.
1787	Death of Robert Blake, whose spirit Blake sees rise through the ceiling ‘clapping its hands for joy’. Friendship with painter Henry Fuseli.
1788	All Religions are One and There is No Natural Religion printed.
1789	Tiriel written. Thel and Songs of Innocence engraved. William and Catherine attend first London meeting of Swedenborgian New Church. Outbreak of French Revolution.
1790	Marriage of Heaven and Hell probably begun.
1791	French Revolution proofs printed for Joseph Johnson. Begins engravings for John Stedman’s anti-slavery Narrative of a five years’ expedition against the Revolted Negroes of Surinam (pub. 1796). Bill to abolish the slave trade rejected in Commons. Visions of the Daughters of Albion probably begun. William and Catherine move to 13 Hercules Buildings, Lambeth.
1792–3	Invasion of France stopped at Valmy. ‘A Song of Liberty’ written.
1793	Execution of Louis XVI. Britain declares war against France. America and Visions engraved.
1794	Songs of Innocence and of Experience issued in a combined volume. Europe and Book of Urizen engraved.
1795	Song of Los, Book of Ahania and Book of Los engraved.
1796–7	Engravings for Young’s Night Thoughts; the work was not well received.
1797	Vala begun. Illustrations and dedicatory poem for Gray’s poems.
1798	Wordsworth and Coleridge publish Lyrical Ballads.
1800	William Hayley, on Flaxman’s recommendation, commissions engravings from Blake. Thomas Butts becomes Blake’s friend and patron. 16 September, William and Catherine move to Hayley’s cottage in Felpham, Sussex.
1800–1802	Felpham residence, work on engravings and miniatures for Hayley, increasing dissatisfaction on Blake’s part. Vala continued, Milton begun.
1802	Peace of Amiens.
1803	10 May, renewal of war with France. 12 August, Blake ejects the dragoon Schofield from his garden, and is charged with sedition. Returns to London, takes rooms at 17 South Molton St.
1804	10 January, sedition trial; Blake acquitted. Milton completed. Jerusalem probably begun.
1805	Publisher Robert Cromek commissions designs for Blair’s Grave from Blake, but afterwards gives the engraving work to Schiavonetti.
1807	Stothard exhibits Canterbury Pilgrims painting; Blake believes the idea stolen from him.
1808	Blair’s Grave published, Blake’s designs attacked by Hunt in The Examiner.
1809	Blake’s exhibition of his paintings, accompanied by the Descriptive Catalogue, proves a failure. The Examiner calls him an ‘unfortunate lunatic’. Years of increased obscurity follow, although Flaxman and Butts continue to befriend Blake.
1814	Engraving Flaxman’s designs for Hesiod.
1815	Napoleonic wars end. Blake engraving Wedgwood china designs.
1816	L’Allegro and Il Penseroso designs.
1818	Probable date of ‘Everlasting Gospel’ fragments in Notebook. Water-colours of Job commissioned by Butts. Friendship with the young artist John Linnell. Linnell and a group of others, calling themselves ‘The Ancients’, will become Blake’s admirers and supporters in his last years.
1820	Jerusalem engraved. Woodcuts for Thornton’s Virgil.
1822	The Ghost of Abel engraved.
1824	Friendship with Samuel Palmer. Linnell commissions Dante designs.
1825	The diarist Crabb Robinson visits Blake and records his conversation.
1827	12 April, writes to Cumberland: ‘I have been very near the Gates of Death & have returned very weak & an Old Man feeble & tottering but not in Spirit & Life not in the Real Man The Imagination which Liveth for Ever.’ 12 August, Blake dies.

Among the many facsimile editions of Blake’s illuminated writings, of particular excellence and value are the series done by W. Muir, printed by the Blake Press at Edmonton in the 1880s, and those printed for the William Blake Trust by the Trianon Press, London, during the 1950s through to the 1970s. Each volume of the latter contains a bibliographical note by Geoffrey Keynes. The Illuminated Blake, annotated by David V. Erdman, Doubleday, 1974, presents Blake’s complete illuminated works in black and white, with commentary, in a single volume. Most recently, Princeton University Press has published, under the general editorship of David Bindman, The Illuminated Books of William Blake, under the titles Jerusalem, Songs of Innocence and Experience, The Early Illuminated Books, The Continental Prophecies, Milton, a Poem and The Urizen Books. Each volume includes colour reproductions of the original plates, transcriptions of the text, and plate-by-plate commentaries.

Facsimile editions of texts in manuscript form are:

Tiriel. Facsimile and Transcript of the Manuscript, Reproduction of the Drawings, and a Commentary on the Poem, ed. G. E. Bentley, Jr, Oxford University Press, 1967.

The Notebook of William Blake (facsimile and transcription), ed. Geoffrey Keynes, Nonesuch, 1935.

The Notebook of William Blake: A Photographic and Typographic Facsimile, ed. David V. Erdman, Oxford University Press, 1973.

Vala; or, The Four Zoas. A Facsimile of the Manuscript, a Transcript and a Study of its Growth and Significance, ed. G. E. Bentley, Jr, Oxford University Press, 1963.

The Four Zoas: A Photographic Facsimile of the Manuscript with Commentary on the Illuminations, ed. Cettina Tramontane Magno and David V. Erdman, Bucknell University Press, 1987.

BIOGRAPHY

Peter Ackroyd, Blake, Sinclair-Stevenson, 1995.

G. E. Bentley, Jr, Blake Records, Oxford University Press, 1969. Supplement, 1988.

—— Stranger from Paradise: A Biography of William Blake, Yale University Press, 2001.

Alexander Gilchrist, Life of William Blake, ‘Pictor Ignotus’, 2 vols., 1863; Everyman, 1945.

James King, William Blake: His Life, Weidenfield and Nicolson, 1991.

Mona Wilson, The Life of William Blake, 1927, ed. Geoffrey Keynes, Oxford University Press, 1971.

CRITICAL STUDIES

G. E. Bentley, Jr, William Blake: The Critical Heritage, Routledge, 1975

Harold Bloom, Blake’s Apocalypse: A Study in Poetic Argument, Doubleday, 1963.

Helen P. Bruder, William Blake and the Daughters of Albion, Macmillan, 1997.

Tristanne J. Connolly, William Blake and the Body, Palgrave Macmillan, 2002.

S. Foster Damon, William Blake, His Philosophy and Symbols, London, 1924.

Leopold Damrosch, Symbol and Truth in Blake’s Myth, Princeton University Press, 1980.

Jackie DiSalvo, War of the Titans: Blake’s Critique of Milton and the Politics of Religion, University of Pittsburgh Press, 1984.

Morris Eaves, William Blake’s Theory of Art, Princeton University Press, 1982.

—— The Counter-Arts Conspiracy: Art and Industry in the Age of Blake, Cornell University Press, 1992.

T. S. Eliot, ‘Blake’, in The Sacred Wood: Essays on Poetry and Criticism, London, 1920; reprinted as ‘William Blake’ in Selected Essays, Faber, 1932.

David V. Erdman, Blake: Prophet Against Empire, A Poet’s Interpretation of the History of His Own Times, Princton University Press, 1954.

Michael Ferber, The Social Vision of William Blake, Princeton University Press, 1985.

—— The Poetry of William Blake, Penguin, 1991.

Harold Fisch, The Biblical Presence in Shakespeare, Milton and Blake: A Comparative Study, Clarendon Press, 1999.

Northrop Frye, Fearful Symmetry: A Study of William Blake, Princeton University Press, 1947.

David Fuller, Blake’s Heroic Argument, Methuen, 1988.

Robert F. Gleckner, The Piper and the Bard: A Study of William Blake, Wayne State University Press, 1959. (Blake’s early work through Visions of the Daughters of Albion.)

Heather Glen, Vision and Disenchantment: Blake’s Songs and Wordsworth’s Lyrical Ballads, Cambridge University Press, 1983.

Nelson Hilton (ed.), Essential Articles for the Study of William Blake, 1970–1984, Archon Books, 1986.

E. D. Hirsch, Jr, Innocence and Experience: An Introduction to Blake, Yale University Press, 1964.

Christopher Z. Hobson, Blake and Homosexuality, Palgrave Macmillan, 2000.

James Joyce, ‘William Blake’, in The Critical Writings of James Joyce, ed. E. Mason and R. Ellman, Faber, 1959.

Zachary Leader, Reading Blake’s Songs, Routledge Kegan Paul, 1981.

Margaret Ruth Lowery, Windows of the Morning: A Critical Study of William Blake’s ‘Poetical Sketches’, Oxford University Press, 1940.

Kathleen Lundeen, Knight of the Living Dead: William Blake and the Problem of Ontology, Association of University Presses, 2000.

Josephine Miles, ‘The Language of William Blake’, in Eras and Modes in English Poetry, University of California Press, 1957.

Dan Miller, Mark Bracher and Donal Ault (eds.), Blake and the Argument of Method, Duke University Press, 1987.

W. J. T. Mitchell, Blake’s Composite Art: A Study of the Illuminated Poetry, Princeton University Press, 1978.

A. L. Morton, The Everlasting Gospel: A Study in the Sources of William Blake, Lawrence & Wishart, 1958.

Alicia Ostriker, Vision and Verse in William Blake, University of Wisconsin Press, 1965.

Morton Paley, Energy and the Imagination: A Study of the Development of Blake’s Thought, Oxford University Press, 1970.

Morton Paley (ed.), Twentieth Century Interpretations of Songs of Innocence and Experience, Prentice-Hall, 1969.

Kathleen Raine, Blake and Tradition, 2 vols., Princeton University Press, 1968.

Algernon Charles Swinburne, William Blake: A Critical Essay, 1868.

Leslie Tannenbaum, Biblical Tradition in Blake’s Early Prophecies: The Great Code of Art, Princeton University Press, 1982.

Joseph Viscomi, Blake and the Idea of the Book, Princeton University Press, 1993.

W. B. Yeats, ‘William Blake and the Imagination’, in Ideas of Good and Evil, 1903. Reprinted in Essays and Introductions, Macmillan, 1961.

REFERENCE WORKS

G. E. Bentley, Jr, and Martin Nurmi, A Blake Bibliography, University of Minnesota Press, 1964.

S. Foster Damon, A Blake Dictionary: The Ideas and Symbols of William Blake, Brown University Press, 1965; new edn with Forward and annotated bibliography by Morris Eaves, 1988.

David V. Erdman, et al., A Concordance to the Writings of William Blake, 2 vols., Cornell University Press, 1967.

Mary Lynn Johnson, ‘William Blake’ in The English Romantic Poets: A Review of Research and Criticism, ed. Frank Jordan, Modern Language Association, 1985.

Geoffrey Keynes, William Blake’s Illuminated Books: A Census, New York, 1953.

The Poems
POETICAL SKETCHES

Miscellaneous Poems

O thou, with dewy locks, who lookest down
Thro’ the clear windows of the morning; turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!

The hills tell each other, and the list’ning
Vallies hear; all our longing eyes are turned
Up to thy bright pavillions: issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime.

Come o’er the eastern hills, and let our winds

Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.

O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languish’d head,
Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee!

O thou, who passest thro’ our vallies in
Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,
Oft pitched’st here thy golden tent, and oft
Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
With joy, thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.

Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car
Rode o’er the deep of heaven; beside our springs

Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy
Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:
Our vallies love the Summer in his pride.

Our bards are fam’d who strike the silver wire:
Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:
Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:
We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,
Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,
Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat.

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof, there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe;
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

‘The narrow bud opens her beauties to
‘The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
‘Blossoms hang round the brows of morning, and

‘Till clust’ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
‘And feather’d clouds strew flowers round her head.

‘The spirits of the air live on the smells
‘Of frait; and joy, with pinions light, roves round
‘The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.’
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.

He hears me not, but o’er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchain’d; sheathed
In ribbed steel, I dare not lift mine eyes;
For he hath rear’d his sceptre o’er the world.

He withers all in silence, and his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.

He takes his seat upon the cliffs, the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch! that deal’st
With storms; till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driv’n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.

Thou fair-hair’d angel of the evening,
Now, while the sun rests on the mountains, light
Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown
Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
Smile on our loves; and, while thou drawest the
Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew
On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes
In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on
The lake; speak si[l]ence with thy glimmering eyes,

Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,
And the lion glares thro’ the dun forest:
The fleeces of our flocks are cover’d with
Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence.

O holy virgin! clad in purest white,
Unlock heav’n’s golden gates, and issue forth;
Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven; let light
Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring
The honied dew that cometh on waking day.
O radiant morning, salute the sun,
Rouz’d like a huntsman to the chace; and, with
Thy buskin’d feet, appear upon our hills.

The bell struck one, and shook the silent tower;
The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor
Walk’d by the castle gate, and looked in.
A hollow groan ran thro’ the dreary vaults.

She shriek’d aloud, and sunk upon the steps
On the cold stone her pale cheek. Sickly smells
Of death, issue as from a sepulchre,
And all is silent but the sighing vaults.

And, like a ghost, thro’ narrow passages
Walking, feeling the cold walls with her hands.

Fancy returns, and now she thinks of bones,
And grinning skulls, and corruptible death,
Wrap’d in his shroud; and now, fancies she hears
Deep sighs, and sees pale sickly ghosts gliding.

At length, no fancy, but reality
Distracts her. A rushing sound, and the feet
Of one that fled, approaches – Ellen stood,

The wretch approaches, crying, ‘The deed is done;
‘Take this, and send it by whom thou wilt send;
‘It is my life – send it to Elenor: –
‘He’s dead, and howling after me for blood!

‘Take this,’ he cry’d; and thrust into her arms
A wet napkin, wrap’d about; then rush’d
Past, howling: she receiv’d into her arms
Pale death, and follow’d on the wings of fear.

Stifling in mud. Fair Ellen pass’d the bridge,
And heard a gloomy voice cry, ‘Is it done?’

As the deer wounded Ellen flew over
The pathless plain; as the arrows that fly
By night; destruction flies, and strikes in darkness,
She fled from fear, till at her house arriv’d.

Her maids await her; on her bed she falls,
That bed of joy, where erst her lord hath press’d:
‘Ah, woman’s fear!’ she cry’d; ‘Ah, cursed duke!

‘My lord was like a flower upon the brows
‘Of lusty May! Ah, life as frail as flower!
‘O ghastly death! withdraw thy cruel hand,
‘Seek’st thou that flow’r to deck thy horrid temples?

‘My lord was like a star, in highest heav’n
‘Drawn down to earth by spells and wickedness:
‘My lord was like the opening eyes of day,
‘When western winds creep softly o’er the flowers:

‘The breath of heaven dwelt among his leaves.
‘O Elenor, weak woman, fill’d with woe!’

Thus having spoke, she raised up her head,
And saw the bloody napkin by her side,
Which in her arms she brought; and now, tenfold
More terrified, saw it unfold itself.

Her eyes were fix’d; the bloody cloth unfolds,
Disclosing to her sight the murder’d head
Of her dear lord, all ghastly pale, clotted

‘O Elenor, behold thy husband’s head,
‘Who, sleeping on the stones of yonder tower
‘Was ’reft of life by the accursed duke!
‘A hired villain turn’d my sleep to death!

‘O Elenor, beware the cursed duke,
‘O give not him thy hand, now I am dead;
‘He seeks thy love; who, coward, in the night,
‘Hired a villain to bereave my life.’

She kiss’d the pale lips; she had no tears to shed;
She hugg’d it to her breast, and groan’d her last.

Love and harmony combine,
And around our souls intwine,
While thy branches mix with mine,
And our roots together join.

Joys upon our branches sit,
Chirping loud, and singing sweet;
Like gentle streams beneath our feet
Innocence and virtue meet.

There she sits and feeds her young,
Sweet I hear her mournful song;
And thy lovely leaves among,
There is love: I hear his tongue.

There his charming nest doth lay,
There he sleeps the night away;
There he sports along the day,

From whence comforts have increas’d;
For light doth seize my brain
With frantic pain.

Fresh from the dewy hill, the merry year
Smiles on my head, and mounts his flaming car;
Round my young brows the laurel wreathes a shade,
And rising glories beam around my head.

My feet are wing’d, while o’er the dewy lawn,
I meet my maiden, risen like the morn:
Oh bless those holy feet, like angels’ feet;
Oh bless those limbs, beaming with heav’nly light!

The joyful shepherd stops his grateful song,
To hear the music of an angel’s tongue.

So when she speaks, the voice of Heaven I hear
So when we walk, nothing impure comes near;
Each field seems Eden, and each calm retreat;
Each village seems the haunt of holy feet.

But that sweet village where my black-ey’d maid,
Closes her eyes in sleep beneath night’s shade:

When early morn walks forth in sober grey;
Then to my black ey’d maid I haste away,
When evening sits beneath her dusky bow’r,

And gently sighs away the silent hour;
The village bell alarms, away I go;
And the vale darkens at my pensive woe.

To that sweet village, where my black ey’d maid
Doth drop a tear beneath the silent shade,
I turn my eyes; and, pensive as I go,

Oft when the summer sleeps among the trees,
Whisp’ring faint murmurs to the scanty breeze,
I walk the village round; if at her side
A youth doth walk in stolen joy and pride,
I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe,
That made my love so high, and me so low.

O should she e’er prove false, his limbs I’d tear,
And throw all pity on the burning air;
I’d curse bright fortune for my mixed lot,

(For ignorance is Folly’s Ieesing nurse,
And love of Folly needs none other curse;)

When silver Snow decks Susan’s cloaths,
And jewel hangs at th’ shepherd’s nose,
The blushing bank is all my care,
With hearth so red, and walls so fair;
‘Heap the sea-coal; come, heap it higher,
‘The oaken log lay on the fire:’
The well-wash’d stools, a circling row,
With lad and lass, how fair the show!
The merry can of nut-brown ale,

’Till tir’d of chat, the game begins,
The lasses prick the lads with pins;
Roger from Dolly twitch’d the stool,
She falling, kiss’d the ground, poor fool!
She blush’d so red, with side-long glance
At hob-nail Dick, who griev’d the chance.
But now for Blind-man’s Buff they call;
Of each incumbrance clear the hall –
Jenny her silken ’kerchief folds,

Now laughing, stops, with ‘Silence! hush!’
And Peggy Pout gives Sam a push. –
The Blind-man’s arms, extended wide,
Sam slips between; – ‘O woe betide
Thee, clumsy Will!’ – but titt’ring Kate
Is pen’d up in the corner strait!
And now Will’s eyes beheld the play,
He thought his face was t’other way. –
‘Now, Kitty, now; what chance hast thou,

She catches him – then Roger ties
His own head up – but not his eyes;
For thro’ the slender cloth he sees,
And runs at Sam, who slips with ease
His clumsy hold; and, dodging round,
Sukey is tumbled on the ground! –
’See what it is to play unfair!
‘Where cheating is, there’s mischief there.’
But Roger still pursues the chace, –

‘O Roger, thou, unskill’d in art,
‘Must, surer bound, go thro’ thy part!’
Now Kitty, pert, repeats the rhymes,
And Roger turns him round three times;
Then pauses ere he starts – but Dick
Was mischief bent upon a trick:
Down on his hands and knees he lay,
Directly in the Blind-man’s way –
Then cries out, ‘Hem!’ Hodge heard, and ran

But down he came. – Alas, how frail
Our best of hopes, how soon they fail!
With crimson drops he stains the ground,
Confusion startles all around!
Poor piteous Dick supports his head,
And fain would cure the hurt he made;
But Kitty hasted with a key,
And down his back they strait convey
The cold relief – the blood is stay’d,

Such are the fortunes of the game,
And those who play should stop the same
By wholesome laws; such as all those
Who on the blinded man impose,
Stand in his stead; as long a-gone
When men were first a nation grown;
Lawless they liv’d – till wantonness
And liberty began t’ increase;
And one man lay in another’s way,

King Edward the Third

But as dust! maintain thy servant’s right.
Without thine aid, the twisted mail, and spear,
And forged helm, and shield of seven times beaten brass,
Are idle trophies of the vanquisher.
When confusion rages, when the field is in a flame,
When the cries of blood tear horror from heav’n,
And yelling death runs up and down the ranks,
Let Liberty, the charter’d right of Englishmen,

Enerve my soldiers; let Liberty
Blaze in each countenance, and fire the battle.
The enemy fight in chains, invisible chains, but heavy;
Their minds are fetter’d; then how can they be free,
While, like the mounting flame,
We spring to battle o’er the floods of death?
And these fair youths, the flow’r of England,
Vent’ring their lives in my most righteous cause,
O sheathe their hearts with triple steel, that they

And thou, my son, be strong; thou fightest for a crown
That death can never ravish from thy brow,
A crown of glory: but from thy very dust
Shall beam a radiance, to fire the breasts
Of youth unborn! Our names are written equal
In fame’s wide trophied hall; ’tis ours to gild
The letters, and to make them shine with gold
That never tarnishes: whether Third Edward,
Or the Prince of Wales, or Montacute, or Mortimer,

Is in his hand to whom all men are equal.
The world of men are like the num’rous stars,
That beam and twinkle in the depth of night,
Each clad in glory according to his sphere; –
But we, that wander from our native seats,
And beam forth lustre on a darkling world,
Grow larger as we advance! and some perhaps
The most obscure at home, that scarce were seen
To twinkle in their sphere, may so advance,

Regardless of the moon, and those that once were bright,
Stand only for to gaze upon their splendor!
He here knights the Prince, and other young Nobles.

Now let us take a just revenge for those
Brave Lords, who fell beneath the bloody axe
At Paris. Thanks, noble Harcourt, for ’twas
By your advice we landed here in Brittany –
A country not yet sown with destruction,
And where the fiery whirlwind of swift war
Has not yet swept its desolating wing. –

And separate march, but join again at night:
Each knows his rank, and Heav’n marshal all.

Whom I am doubly bound to obey, my Parent
And my Sovereign, call’d you together.
My task is great, my burden heavier than
My unfledg’d years;
Yet, with your kind assistance, Lords, I hope
England shall dwell in peace; that while my father
Toils in his wars, and turns his eyes on this
His native shore, and sees commerce fly round

And her silver Thames, throng’d with shining spires
And corded ships; her merchants buzzing round
Like summer bees, and all the golden cities
In his land, overflowing with honey,
Glory may not be dimm’d with clouds of care.
Say, Lords, should not our thoughts be first to commerce?
My Lord Bishop, you would recommend us agriculture?

When I sit at my home, a private man,
My thoughts are on my gardens, and my fields,
How to employ the hand that lacketh bread.
If Industry is in my diocese,
Religion will flourish; each man’s heart
Is cultivated, and will bring forth fruit:
This is my private duty and my pleasure.
But as I sit in council with my prince,
My thoughts take in the gen’ral good of the whole,

For Commerce, tho’ the child of Agriculture,
Fosters his parent, who else must sweat and toil,
And gain but scanty fare. Then, my dear Lord,
Be England’s trade our care; and we, as tradesmen,
Looking to the gain of this our native land.

From your tongue, as from a worship’d oak!
Forgive, my Lords, my talkative youth, that speaks
Not merely what my narrow observation has

Now, by the Queen’s advice, I ask your leave
To dine to-morrow with the Mayor of London:
If I obtain your leave, I have another boon
To ask, which is, the favour of your company;
I fear Lord Percy will not give me leave.

The Complete Poems

Preface

EDITORIAL MARKS

Table of Dates

Further Reading

EDITIONS

FACSIMILE EDITIONS

BIOGRAPHY

CRITICAL STUDIES

REFERENCE WORKS

The Poems
POETICAL SKETCHES

Miscellaneous Poems

King Edward the Third

The Complete Poems

Preface

EDITORIAL MARKS

Table of Dates

Further Reading

EDITIONS

FACSIMILE EDITIONS

BIOGRAPHY

CRITICAL STUDIES

REFERENCE WORKS

The PoemsPOETICAL SKETCHES

Miscellaneous Poems

King Edward the Third

The Poems
POETICAL SKETCHES