Introducing one of the greatest overlooked Artists in Britain’s history, Mr. William Blake (28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827). It’s interesting how the artists perspective is still relevant and can be similarly interpreted today. That is one thing that I’ve noticed about great art is that it stands the test of time.
I find something unique about Blake’s poetry work and the way it speaks to me. I have chosen two poems from his work to share that I happened to enjoy and think many of you would enjoy as well. So, please read and enjoy the creativity of William Blake; and afterwards, leave a comment with your thoughts, or what your favorites lines were and why. This is a community, so it helps when we share our thoughts and knowledge with each other.
The Chimney Sweeper William Blake
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue, Could scarcely cry weep weep weep weep, So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep.
Theres little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head That curled like a lambs back was shav’d, so I said. Hush Tom never mind it, for when your head’s bare, You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair
And so he was quiet. & that very night. As Tom was a sleeping he had such a sight That thousands of sweepers Dick, Joe, Ned, & Jack Were all of them lock’d up in coffins of black,
And by came an Angel who had a bright key And he open’d the coffins & set them all free. Then down a green plain leaping laughing they run And wash in a river and shine in the Sun.
Then naked & white, all their bags left behind. They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind. And the Angel told Tom, if he’d be a good boy, He’d have God for his father & never want joy.
And so Tom awoke and we rose in the dark And got with our bags & our brushes to work. Tho’ the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.