Treasure Island

William Blake

(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827 / London)

The Human Abstract


Pity would be no more
If we did not make somebody Poor;
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we.

And mutual fear brings peace,
Till the selfish loves increase:
Then Cruelty knits a snare,
And spreads his baits with care.

He sits down with holy fears,
And waters the grounds with tears;
Then Humility takes its root
Underneath his foot.

Soon spreads the dismal shade
Of Mystery over his head;
And the Catterpiller and Fly
Feed on the Mystery.

And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
Ruddy and sweet to eat;
And the Raven his nest has made
In its thickest shade.

The Gods of the earth and sea
Sought thro' Nature to find this Tree;
But their search was all in vain:
There grows one in the Human Brain.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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  • Merna Ibrahim (2/19/2010 6:23:00 PM)

    Personally, I can't say anything except 'William Blake is a real artist & poet! ! '.
    While reading your poems, I realize and understand the real meaning of poetry.
    10 Indeed.
    Merna... (Report) Reply

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