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82 / WILLIAM BLAKE
10"Drop thy pipe thy happy pipe Sing thy songs of happy chear"; So I sung the same again While he wept with joy to hear. 15"Piper sit thee down and write In a book that all may read"�So he vanish'd from my sight. And I pluck'd a hollow reed, 20And I made a rural pen, And I stain'd the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear. 1789 The Ecchoing Green The Sun does arise, And make happy the skies. The merry bells ring
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THE LAMB / 83
To welcome the Spring.
5 The sky-lark and thrush, The birds of the bush, Sing louder around, To the bells' chearful sound. While our sports shall be seen
10 On the Ecchoing Green.
Old John with white hair Does laugh away care, Sitting under the oak, Among the old folk.
15 They laugh at our play, And soon they all say: "Such, such were the joys. When we all, girls & boys, In our youth-time were seen,
20 On the Ecchoing Green."
Till the little ones weary No more can be merry The sun does descend, And our sports have an end:
25 Round the laps of their mothers, Many sisters and brothers, Like birds in their nest, Are ready for rest; And sport no more seen,
30 On the darkening Green.
1789
The Lamb1
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life & bid thee feed, By the stream & o'er the mead;
5 Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing wooly bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice!
Little Lamb who made thee? 10 Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb I'll tell thee, Little Lamb I'll tell thee! He is called by thy name,
1. The opening of this poem mimes the form of the catechistic questions and answers customarily used for children's religious instruction.
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8 4 / WILLIA M BLAK E For he calls himself a Lamb; is He is meek & he is mild, He became a little child; I a child & thou a lamb, We are called by his name. Little Lamb God bless thee. 20 Little Lamb God bless thee. 1789 The Little Black Boy My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O! my soul is white; WTiite as an angel is the English child, But I am black as if bereav'd of light. 5 My mother taught me underneath a tree, And sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissed me, And pointing to the east, began to say: "Look on the rising sun: there God does live 10 And gives his light, and gives his heat away; And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive Comfort in morning, joy in the noon day. "And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love, 15 And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove. "For when our souls have leam'd the heat to bear, The cloud will vanish; we shall hear his voice, Saying: 'Come out from the grove, my love & care, 20 And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.' " Thus did my mother say, and kissed me; And thus I say to little English boy: When I from black and he from white cloud free, And round the tent of God like lambs we joy, 25 I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear To lean in joy upon our father's knee. And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair, And be like him, and he will then love me. 178 9
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THE DIVINE IMAGE / 85
The Chimney Sweeper
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry " 'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!"1 So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep.
5 There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head That curl'd like a lamb's 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,
10 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; is 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,
20 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.
The Divine Image
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, All pray in their distress, And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness.
5 For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, Is God, our father dear: And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, Is Man, his child and care.
For Mercy has a human heart,
10 Pity, a human face, And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress.
1. The child's lisping attempt at the chimney sweeper's street cry, "Sweep! Sweep!"
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Then every man of every clime, That prays in his distress, 15 Prays to the human form divine, Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.
And all must love the human form, In heathen, Turk, or Jew. Where Mercy, Love, & Pity dwell,
20 There God is dwelling too.
1789
Holy Thursday1
'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean, The children walking two & two, in red & blue & green; Grey headed beadles2 walkd before with wands as white as snow, Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames' waters flow.
5 O what a multitude they seemd, these flowers of London town! Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own. The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys & girls raising their innocent hands.
Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song,
10 Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among. Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor; Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.3