Get Your Premium Membership

William Blake Short Poems | Poetry

Famous Short William Blake Poems. Short poetry by famous poet William Blake. A collection of the all-time best William Blake short poems

Other Short Poem Pages


Poems are below...



William Blake | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by William Blake

Loves Secret

NEVER seek to tell thy love  
Love that never told can be; 
For the gentle wind doth move 
Silently invisibly.
I told my love I told my love 5 I told her all my heart Trembling cold in ghastly fears.
Ah! she did depart! Soon after she was gone from me A traveller came by 10 Silently invisibly: He took her with a sigh.


by William Blake

Ah! Sun-Flower

 Ah Sun-flower! weary of time.
Who countest the steps of the Sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: Arise from their graves and aspire.
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.


by William Blake

My Pretty Rose Tree

 A flower was offered to me;
Such a flower as May never bore.
But I said I've a Pretty Rose-tree.
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree: To tend her by day and by night.
But my Rose turnd away with jealousy: And her thorns were my only delight.


by William Blake

Silent Silent Night

 Silent, silent night,
Quench the holy light
Of thy torches bright;

For possessed of Day
Thousand spirits stray
That sweet joys betray.
Why should joys be sweet Used with deceit, Nor with sorrows meet? But an honest joy Does itself destroy For a harlot coy.


by William Blake

England! awake! awake! awake!

 England! awake! awake! awake! 
Jerusalem thy Sister calls! 
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death 
And close her from thy ancient walls? 

Thy hills and valleys felt her feet 
Gently upon their bosoms move: 
Thy gates beheld sweet Zion's ways: 
Then was a time of joy and love.
And now the time returns again: Our souls exult, and London's towers Receive the Lamb of God to dwell In England's green and pleasant bowers.


by William Blake

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! Sweet joy but two days old.
Sweet joy I call thee; Thou dost smile, I sing the while Sweet joy befall thee.


by William Blake

Never Seek to Tell thy Love

 Never seek to tell thy love 
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love, I told my love, I told her all my heart, Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears-- Ah, she doth depart.
Soon as she was gone from me A traveller came by Silently, invisibly-- O, was no deny.


by William Blake

Infant Sorrow

 My mother groand! my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt:
Helpless, naked, piping loud:
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Struggling in my fathers hands: Striving against my swaddling bands: Bound and weary I thought best To sulk upon my mother's breast.


by William Blake

To Nobodaddy

 Why art thou silent & invisible 
Father of jealousy 
Why dost thou hide thyself in clouds 
From every searching Eye

Why darkness & obscurity 
In all thy words & laws 
That none dare eat the fruit but from 
The wily serpents jaws 
Or is it because Secresy
gains females loud applause


by William Blake

Nurses Song (Experience)

 When the voices of children.
are heard on the green And whisprings are in the dale: The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind, My face turns green and pale.
Then come home my children.
the sun is gone down And the dews of night arise Your spring & your day.
are wasted in play And your winter and night in disguise


by William Blake

Jerusalem: England! awake! awake! awake!

 England! awake! awake! awake! 
Jerusalem thy Sister calls!
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death
And close her from thy ancient walls?

Thy hills and valleys felt her feet
Gently upon their bosoms move:
Thy gates beheld sweet Zion's ways:
Then was a time of joy and love.
And now the time returns again: Our souls exult, and London's towers Receive the Lamb of God to dwell In England's green and pleasant bowers.


by William Blake

Three Things to Remember

 A Robin Redbreast in a cage,
Puts all Heaven in a rage.
A skylark wounded on the wing Doth make a cherub cease to sing.
He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be beloved by men.


by William Blake

Mock On Mock On Voltaire Rousseau

 Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau;
Mock on, mock on; 'tis all in vain!
You throw the sand against the wind,
And the wind blows it back again.
And every sand becomes a gem Reflected in the beams divine; Blown back they blind the mocking eye, But still in Israel's paths they shine.
The Atoms of Democritus And Newton's Particles of Light Are sands upon the Red Sea shore, Where Israel's tents do shine so bright.


by William Blake

The Lilly

 The modest Rose puts forth a thorn:
The humble Sheep.
a threatning horn: While the Lily white, shall in Love delight, Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright


by William Blake

Several Questions Answered

 What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of Gratified Desire.
What is it women do in men require? The lineaments of Gratified Desire.
The look of love alarms Because 'tis fill'd with fire; But the look of soft deceit Shall Win the lover's hire.
Soft Deceit & Idleness, These are Beauty's sweetest dress.
He who binds to himself a joy Dot the winged life destroy; But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in Eternity's sunrise.


by William Blake

The Wild Flowers Song

 As I wandered the forest,
The green leaves among,
I heard a Wild Flower
Singing a song.
'I slept in the earth In the silent night, I murmured my fears And I felt delight.
'In the morning I went As rosy as morn, To seek for new joy; But oh! met with scorn.
'


by William Blake

The Sick Rose

 O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.


by William Blake

The Garden Of Love

 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 turn'd to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore, And I saw it was filled with graves, And tomb-stones where flowers should be: And priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds, And binding with briars, my joys & desires.


by William Blake

The Question Answered

 What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of gratified Desire.
What is it women do in men require? The lineaments of gratified Desire


by William Blake

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
Hears you sobbing, sobbing,
Pretty, pretty robin,
Near my bosom.


by William Blake

To The Accuser Who is The God of This World

 Truly My Satan thou art but a Dunce
And dost not know the Garment from the Man
Every Harlot was a Virgin once
Nor canst thou ever change Kate into Nan

Tho thou art Worship'd by the Names Divine 
Of Jesus & Jehovah thou art still
The Son of Morn in weary Nights decline
The lost Travellers Dream under the Hill


by William Blake

The Fly

 Little Fly
Thy summers play,
My thoughtless hand
Has brush'd away.
Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance And drink & sing; Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life And strength & breath; And the want Of thought is death; Then am I A happy fly, If I live, Or if I die.


by William Blake

To Morning

 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 honey'd dew that cometh on waking day.
O radiant morning, salute the sun Rous'd like a huntsman to the chase, and with Thy buskin'd feet appear upon our hills.


by William Blake

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,
Appeared 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 dale Her little boy weeping sought.


by William Blake

The Clod and 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 sung a little Clod of Clay, Trodden with the cattle's feet; But a Pebble of the brook.
Warbled out these metres meet.
Love seeketh only Self to please, To bind another to Its delight; Joys in anothers loss of ease.
And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.