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Collected Poems

Book by William Blake · 15 quotes · Poetry, Heart, Poem

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Collected Poems Quotes

“Across the land a faint blue veil of mist Seems hung; the woods wear yet arrayment sober Till frost shall make them flame; silent and whist The drooping cherry orchards of October Like mournful pennons hang their shriveling leaves Russet and orange: all things now decay; Long since ye garnered in your autumn sheaves, And sad the robins pipe at set of day.”

LongSeemsLandAll ThingsBlueSilentWoodsFlamesAutumnDecayHungSoberOrangeVeilsMistPipeOctoberFrostCherriesRobinsOrchard
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“It is convenient for the old men to blame Eve. To insist we are damned because a country girl talked to the snake one afternoon long ago. Children must starve in Somalia for that, and old women be abandoned in our greatest cities. It’s why we will finally be thrown into the lakes of molten lead. Because she was confused by happiness that first time anyone said she was beautiful. Nevertheless, she must be the issue, so people won’t notice that rocks and galaxies, mathematics and rust are also created in His image.”

PeopleMenFirstsChildrenLongSaidCountryBeautifulGirlCitiesIssuesRocksFirst TimeMathematicsBlameConfusedThrownLakesOld ManAfternoonAbandonedLong AgoNeverthelessSnakesGalaxyConvenientOld WomanRustSomaliaCountry Girl
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“How those fires burned that are no longer, how the weather worsened, how the shadow of the seagull vanished without a trace. Was it the end of a season, the end of a life? Was it so long ago it seems it might never have been? What is it in us that lives in the past and longs for the future, or lives in the future and longs for the past? (from "No Words Can Describe It")”

LongHas BeensEndsSeemsMightPastFireShadowSeasonsWeatherBurnedLong AgoSeagullWithout A Trace
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“Those hours given over to basking in the glow of an imagined future, of being carried away in streams of promise by a love or a passion so strong that one felt altered forever and convinced that even the smallest particle of the surrounding world was charged with purpose of impossible grandeur; ah, yes, and one would look up into the trees and be thrilled by the wind- loosened river of pale, gold foliage cascading down and by the high, melodious singing of countless birds; those moments, so many and so long ago, still come back, but briefly, like fireflies in the perfumed heat of summer night.”

WorldLooksLongStillsMomentsPurposeNightPassionStrongGivenFeltHoursForeverImpossibleTreeWindPromiseSummerSingingBirdRiversGoldDown AndConvincedHeatStreamsLook UpPaleLong AgoSmallestParticlesGrandeurAlteredCarried AwayFireflySummer NightsFoliageBasking
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“Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning, We will come back to earth some fragrant night, And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white. We will come down at night to these resounding beaches And the long gentle thunder of the sea, Here for a single hour in the wide starlight We shall be happy, for the dead are free.”

IfsKindLongEarthDeathNightHoursWhiteSeaDyingLowsWideBreatheBeachGentleThunderLanesImpermanenceBendingStarlight
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