Wednesday, 18 May 2011

William Blake: Some Angels ("Everything is an attempt/To be Human")


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Large image

Jacob's Ladder, or Jacob's Dream (detail): William Blake, illustration to the Bible painted for Thomas Butts, c. 1799-1807 (British Museum)



I askèd a thief to steal me a peach:
He turnèd up his eyes.
I asked a lithe lady to lie her down:
Holy and meek, she cries.

As soon as I went
An angel came.
He wink'd at the thief
And smil'd at the dame;

And without one word said
Had a peach from the tree,
And still as a maid
Enjoy'd the lady.


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I heard an Angel singing
When the day was springing:
'Mercy, Pity, Peace
Is the world's release.'

Thus he sang all day
Over the new-mown hay,
Till the sun went down,
And haycocks lookèd brown.

I heard a Devil curse
Over the heath and the furze:
'Mercy could be no more,
If there was nobody poor,

'And pity no more could be,
If all were as happy as we.'
At his curse the sun went down,
And the heavens gave a frown.

Down pour'd the heavy rain
Over the new reap'd grain;
And Misery's increase
Is Mercy, Pity, Peace.



William Blake: "I askèd...", "I heard...": ms. poems, from notebook, 1791-1792
It is not because angels are holier than men or devils that makes them angels, but because they do not expect holiness from one another, but from God alone.
William Blake: A Vision of the Last Judgement, 1806
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8 comments:

  1. aditya18 May 2011 at 05:06

    Oh my heart goes down reading both these poems together. And watching those pictures too. The presence of the poem's gay blessed lyric effects is a scourge for the reader

    And Misery's increase
    Is Mercy, Pity, Peace.

    oh oh oh .. Lord!

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  2. TC18 May 2011 at 05:29

    Save us!

    ReplyDelete
  3. STEPHEN RATCLIFFE18 May 2011 at 06:56

    Tom,

    I heard an Angel singing
    When the day was springing. . .
    . . .
    Down poured the heavy rain. . .


    5.18

    pink edge of cloud above still shadowed
    plane of ridge, quail calling Chi-ca-go
    in foreground, sound of wave in channel

    clouds easier to see source
    of light, to do these

    is being present, each “now”
    in its passing, which

    grey rain cloud against invisible ridge,
    whiteness of gull gliding above channel

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  4. Chris19 May 2011 at 06:28

    These poems and pictures make me want to put down everything I am doing and go -- out.

    Chris

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  5. TC19 May 2011 at 07:24

    Steve,

    All, after all,

    is being present, each “now”
    in its passing, which

    Chris,

    I hope it's good out there.

    ReplyDelete
  6. ACravan23 May 2011 at 03:20

    This is difficult to express accurately (and I apologize in advance if it sounds incoherent), but what I like most about this aren't the ironic "conclusions" reached, but the "process", i.e., the way the good and evil angels more resemble each other as entities experiencing the same difficult thing than they appear to be opposites, and the way the thwarted tortured figures in plates 1 and 3 seem (plate 1 especially) to embody some positive as well as negative aspects of human experience. (I told you this would be difficult to express accurately.) I love the drawing and the colors also. Curtis

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  7. TC23 May 2011 at 07:12

    Curtis, actually I think you've expressed the unique merging of the dichotomies in Blake's vision of angel(s) not only accurately but splendidly.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Augie9 January 2012 at 03:53

    I like your entries, the depictions especially. Blake still is not taken seriously enough for his art: such is the fate of visionaries. I hope you keep posting. For postings of a similar vein, tapping the unsayable: http://wrestlinggypsies.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete