Visitors Book
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A Tribute to William Blake, (1757-1827)...
yet in his visions so free,
he saw God’s glory!
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"The hours of folly are measured by the clock;
but of wisdom no clock can measure."
The Ancient of Days...
To see the World in a grain of sand,
And Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
...Auguries of Innocence
Selections from Milton....1804-1809
The stolen and perverted writings of Homer and Ovid,
of Plato and Cicero, which all men ought to contemn,
are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible; but
when the New Age is at leisure to pronounce, all will be set right,
and those grand works of the more ancient, and consciously and
professedly inspired men will hold their proper rank, and the
Daughters of Memory shall become the Daughters of Inspiration.
Shakespeare and Milton were both curb'd by the general malady and infection
from the silly Greek and Latin slaves of the sword.
Rouse up, O Young Men of the New Age! Set your foreheads against the ignorant hirelings!
For we have hirelings in the Camp, the Court, and the University, who would if they could, for
ever depress mental, and prolong corporeal war. Painters! on you I call. Sculptors! Architects!
suffer not the fashionable fools to depress your powers by the prices they pretend to give
for contemptible works, or the expensive advertising boasts that they make of such works:
believe Christ and His Apostles that there is a class of men whose delight is in destroying.
We do not want either Greek or Roman models if we are but just and true to our Imaginations,
those Worlds of Eternity in which we shall live forever, in Jesus our Lord.
Jerusalem
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariots of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
Tiger! Tiger!
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests 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 through down their spears,
And water'd 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?
"This life's five windows of the soul
Distorts the heavens from pole to pole
And leads you to believe a lie
When you see with, not thro', the eye."
...The Everlasting Gospel
.......would God that all the Lord's people were Prophets, and that
the Lord would put His Spirit upon them!
Numbers 11:29
Page Title: A Tribute to William Blake...
Page URL: http://www.blessedhope.ws/blake.html
Page Updated: 7th July 2020
Author/Webmaster: Leslie C.Gaston
Copyright © Blessed Hope Ministries - International © MM 
but of wisdom no clock can measure."
| The Ancient of Days... |
|
|
To see the World in a grain of sand,
And Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
...Auguries of Innocence
|
|
Selections from Milton....1804-1809
The stolen and perverted writings of Homer and Ovid, of Plato and Cicero, which all men ought to contemn, are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible; but when the New Age is at leisure to pronounce, all will be set right, and those grand works of the more ancient, and consciously and professedly inspired men will hold their proper rank, and the Daughters of Memory shall become the Daughters of Inspiration. Shakespeare and Milton were both curb'd by the general malady and infection from the silly Greek and Latin slaves of the sword.
Rouse up, O Young Men of the New Age! Set your foreheads against the ignorant hirelings! For we have hirelings in the Camp, the Court, and the University, who would if they could, for ever depress mental, and prolong corporeal war. Painters! on you I call. Sculptors! Architects! suffer not the fashionable fools to depress your powers by the prices they pretend to give for contemptible works, or the expensive advertising boasts that they make of such works: believe Christ and His Apostles that there is a class of men whose delight is in destroying. We do not want either Greek or Roman models if we are but just and true to our Imaginations, those Worlds of Eternity in which we shall live forever, in Jesus our Lord.
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|
Jerusalem
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariots of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
|
|
Tiger! Tiger!
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests 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 through down their spears,
And water'd 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?
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|
"This life's five windows of the soul
Distorts the heavens from pole to pole
And leads you to believe a lie
When you see with, not thro', the eye."
...The Everlasting Gospel
.......would God that all the Lord's people were Prophets, and that
the Lord would put His Spirit upon them!
Numbers 11:29
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| Page Title: A Tribute to William Blake... Page URL: http://www.blessedhope.ws/blake.html Page Updated: 7th July 2020 Author/Webmaster: Leslie C.Gaston Copyright © Blessed Hope Ministries - International © MM |
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