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第4章

poems of william blake-第4章

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 〃And because I am happy and dance and sing;



 They think they have done me no injury;



 And are gone to praise God and his priest and king;



 Who make up a heaven of our misery。〃



 



 



 NURSE'S SONG



 



 When voices of children are heard on the green;



 And whisperings 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 and your day are wasted in play;



 And your winter and night in disguise。



 



 



 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。



 



 



 THE FLY



 



 Little Fly;



 Thy summer's play



 My thoughtless hand



 Has brushed away。



 



 Am not I



 A fly like thee?



 Or art not thou



 A man like me?



 



 For I dance



 And drink; and sing;



 Till some blind hand



 Shall brush my wing。



 



 If thought is life



 And strength and breath



 And the want 



 Of thought is death;



 



 Then am I



 A happy fly;



 If I live;



 Or if I die。



 



 



 THE ANGEL



 



 I dreamt a dream!  What can it mean?



 And that I was a maiden Queen



 Guarded by an Angel mild:



 Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!



 



 And I wept both night and day;



 And he wiped my tears away;



 And I wept both day and night;



 And hid from him my heart's delight。



 



 So he took his wings; and fled;



 Then the morn blushed rosy red。



 I dried my tears; and armed my fears



 With ten…thousand shields and spears。



 



 Soon my Angel came again;



 I was armed; he came in vain;



 For the time of youth was fled;



 And grey hairs were on my head。



 



 



 THE TIGER



 



 Tiger; tiger; burning bright



 In the forest 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 watered heaven with their tears;



 Did he smile his work to see?



 Did he who made the lamb make thee?



 



 Tiger; tiger; burning bright



 In the forests of the night;



 What immortal hand or eye



 Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?



 



 



 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 turned away with jealousy;



   And her thorns were my only delight。



 



 



 AH SUNFLOWER



 



 Ah Sunflower; weary of time;



   Who countest the steps of the sun;



 Seeking after that sweet golden clime



   Where the traveller's 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 Sunflower wishes to go!



 



 



 THE LILY



 



 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。



 



 



 THE GARDEN OF LOVE



 



 I laid me down upon a bank;



   Where Love lay sleeping;



 I heard among the rushes dank



   Weeping; weeping。



 



 Then I went to the heath and the wild;



   To the thistles and thorns of the waste;



 And they told me how they were beguiled;



   Driven out; and compelled to the chaste。



 



 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 turned to the Garden of Love



   That so many sweet flowers bore。



 



 And I saw it was filled with graves;



   And tombstones where flowers should be;



 And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds;



   And binding with briars my joys and desires。



 



 



 THE LITTLE VAGABOND



 



 Dear mother; dear mother; the Church is cold;



 But the Alehouse is healthy; and pleasant; and warm。



 Besides; I can tell where I am used well;



 The poor parsons with wind like a blown bladder swell。



 



 But; if at the Church they would give us some ale;



 And a pleasant fire our souls to regale;



 We'd sing and we'd pray all the livelong day;



 Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray。



 



 Then the Parson might preach; and drink; and sing;



 And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring;



 And modest Dame Lurch; who is always at church;



 Would not have bandy children; nor fasting; nor birch。



 



 And God; like a father; rejoicing to see



 His children as pleasant and happy as he;



 Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel;



 But kiss him; and give him both drink and apparel。



 



 



 LONDON



 



 I wandered 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。



 



 



 THE HUMAN ABSTRACT



 



 Pity would be no more



 If we did not make somebody poor;



 And Mercy no more could be



 If all were as happy as we。



 



 And mutual fear brings Peace;



 Till the selfish loves increase



 Then Cruelty knits a snare;



 And spreads his baits with care。



 



 He sits down with his holy fears;



 And waters the ground with tears;



 Then Humility takes its root



 Underneath his foot。



 



 Soon spreads the dismal shade



 Of Mystery over his head;



 And the caterpillar and fly



 Feed on the Mystery。



 



 And it bears the fruit of Deceit;



 Ruddy and sweet to eat;



 And the raven his nest has made



 In its thickest shade。



 



 The gods of the earth and sea



 Sought through nature to find this tree;



 But their search was all in vain:



 There grows one in the human Brain。



 



 



 INFANT SORROW



 



 My mother groaned; my father wept:



 Into the dangerous world I leapt;



 Helpless; naked; piping loud;



 Like a fiend hid in a cloud。



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