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William Blake

William Blake

Spring

Sound the flute!
Now it’s mute.
Birds delight
Day and night.
Nightingale
In the dale,
Lark in the sky,
Merrily,
Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year.
 
Little boy
Full of joy,
Little girl
Sweet and small.
Cock does crow,
So do you.
Merry voice,
Infant noise,
Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year.
 
Little lamb
Here I am
Come and lick
My white neck.
Let me pull
Your soft wool.
Let me kiss
Your soft face,
Merrily, merrily we welcome in the year.

(1789)

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Altre opere di William Blake...
Song: Fresh from the dewy hill, the merry year

FRESH from the dewy hill, the me… Smiles on my head and mounts his f… Round my young brows the laurel wr… And rising glories beam around my… My feet are wing’d, while o’er the…
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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
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Song: How sweet I roam'd from field to field

How sweet I roam’d from field to… And tasted all the summer’s pride, 'Till I the prince of love beheld… Who in the sunny beams did glide! He shew’d me lilies for my hair,
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The Little Vagabond

Dear mother, dear mother, the chur… But the ale—house is healthy and p… Besides I can tell where I am use… Such usage in Heaven will never d… But if at the church they would gi…
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The Blossom

Merry, merry sparrow! Under leaves so green A happy blossom Sees you, swift as arrow, Seek your cradle narrow,
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Want Matches?

1st Vo. WANT Matches? 2nd Vo. Yes! Yes! Yes! 1st Vo. Want Matches? 2nd Vo. No! 1st Vo. Want Matches?
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The Chimney Sweeper: a little black thing among the snow

A little black thing among the sno… Crying “weep! 'weep!” in notes of… “Where are thy father and mother?… “They are both gone up to the chur… Because I was happy upon the heat…
A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend. I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe. I told it not, my wrath did grow; And I water’d it in fears,
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London

I wander thro’ each charter’d stre… Near where the charter’d Thames d… And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man,
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Ah! Sunflower

Ah! sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden cl… Where the traveller’s journey is d… Where the youth pined away with de…
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Little fly, Thy summer’s play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am not I
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The Lamb

Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life, and bid thee feed By the stream and o’er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight,
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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
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Silent, Silent Night

Silent, silent Night Quench the holy light Of thy torches bright. For possess’d of Day Thousand spirits stray
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Song: When early morn walks forth in sober grey

WHEN early morn walks forth in s… Then to my black-eyed maid I hast… When evening sits beneath her dusk… And gently sighs away the silent h… The village bell alarms, away I g…
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