William Blake (1757-1827)

"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. “ – Blake (Jerusalem)

Born28 November 1757London, England

Died12 August 1827 (aged 69)London, England

Occupation Poet, Painter, Printmaker, Editor

Genres Visionary Poetry

Literary movement Romanticism

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Table of ContentsBiography.......................................................................................................................................................3

Family Background................................................................................................................................4

Educational Background........................................................................................................................4

Marriage and Start of Career..................................................................................................................5

Blake’s Masterpieces.....................................................................................................................................7

Poems.....................................................................................................................................................7

A Poison Tree.............................................................................................................................7

Cradle Song................................................................................................................................6

Hear The Voice...........................................................................................................................8

Jerusalem....................................................................................................................................8

The Little Black Boy..................................................................................................................9

Love’s Secret..............................................................................................................................9

Mad Song.................................................................................................................................10

Songs of Innocence...................................................................................................................10

Night.........................................................................................................................................11

The Tiger..................................................................................................................................12

The Sick Rose...........................................................................................................................12

To The Evening Star.................................................................................................................12

To Spring..................................................................................................................................13

To The Muses...........................................................................................................................13

Books...................................................................................................................................................14

Paintings...............................................................................................................................................15

References....................................................................................................................................................16

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BiographyWilliam Blake (1757-1827), English artist, mystic and poet wrote Songs of Innocence

(1789): a poetry collection written from the child’s point of view, of innocent wonderment and

spontaneity in natural settings which includes “Little Boy Lost”, “Little Boy Found” and “The

Lamb”; Songs of Experience (1794) contains many poems in response to ones from Innocence,

suggesting ironic contrasts as the child matures and learns of such concepts as fear and envy. For

example, to “The Lamb” comes the predatory “The Tyger”.

Later editions would see Innocence and Experience contained in one volume. As a friend

of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Percy Bysshe Shelley and Thomas Paine, Blake was among the

literati of London’s intellectual circle though he was often labeled an eccentric or worse, insane

or demented. His works did not gain much acclaim or commercial success until long after his

death. Although he had several patrons over the course of his life and produced voluminous

works, he often lived in abject poverty. Though it is hard to classify Blake’s body of work in one

genre, he heavily influenced the Romantic poets with recurring themes of good and evil, heaven

and hell, knowledge and innocence, and external reality versus inner. Going against common

conventions of the time, Blake believed in sexual and racial equality and justice for all, rejected

the Old Testament’s teachings in favour of the New, and abhorred oppression in all its forms. He

focused his creative efforts beyond the five senses, for, If the doors of perception were cleansed

every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all

things thro’ narrow chinks of his cavern.—from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell written

between 1790-93, which inspired the title of Aldous Huxley’s essay “The Doors of Perception”

(1954).

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Family Background

William Blake was born on 28 November, 1757, in London, England, the third

son of Catherine née Wright (1723–1792) and James Blake (c.1723–1784) a hosier and

haberdasher on Broad Street in Golden Square, Soho. William never attended school, and was

educated at home by his mother Catherine Wright Armitage Blake. [13] The Blakes were

Dissenters, and are believed to have belonged to the Moravian Church. The Bible was an early

and profound influence on Blake, and would remain a source of inspiration throughout his life.

Young William was prone to fantastic visions, including seeing God, and angels in a tree. He

would later claim that he had regular conversations with his deceased brother Robert. It was soon

apparent that Blake’s internal world of imagination would be a prime motivator throughout his

life. Noting something special in their son the Blakes were highly supportive of and encouraged

his artistic creativity and thus began his education and development as an artist.

Educational Background

He had early shown an interest in and aptitude for drawing, so, at the age of ten

Blake entered Henry Pars’ drawing school. Then, at the age of fourteen Blake started a seven

year apprenticeship with engraver James Basire, the official engraver to the Society of

Antiquaries. From his bustling shop on Queen Street, Blake learned all the tools of the trade that

would become his main source of income. He was often sent out on assignments to create

sketches and drawings of statues, paintings, and monuments including those found in churches

like Westminster Abbey. The intense study of Gothic art and architecture appealed to Blake’s

aesthetic sensibility and brought out his penchant for the medieval. He also met numerous

figures from London’s intellectual circle during this period.

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On 8 October 1779, Blake became a student at the Royal Academy in Old Somerset

House, near the Strand. While the terms of his study required no payment, he was expected to

supply his own materials throughout the six-year period. There, he rebelled against what he

regarded as the unfinished style of fashionable painters such as Rubens, championed by the

school's first president, Joshua Reynolds. Over time, Blake came to detest Reynolds' attitude

toward art, especially his pursuit of "general truth" and "general beauty". Reynolds wrote in his

Discourses that the "disposition to abstractions, to generalizing and classification, is the great

glory of the human mind"; Blake responded, in marginalia to his personal copy, that "To

Generalize is to be an Idiot; To Particularize is the Alone Distinction of Merit". [18] Blake also

disliked Reynolds' apparent humility, which he held to be a form of hypocrisy. Against

Reynolds' fashionable oil painting, Blake preferred the Classical precision of his early influences,

Michelangelo and Raphael. After attending the Royal Academy under Sir Joshua Reynolds for a

time Blake left because he found the intellectual atmosphere there too restrictive to his

burgeoning artistic side. In 1780 he obtained employment as an engraver with publisher Joseph

Johnson.

Marriage and Career

In 1782 Blake married Catherine Sophia Boucher (1762-1831). Although they had no

children it was mostly a happy marriage and Blake taught Catharine to read and write. They were

a devoted couple and worked together on many of Blake’s publications. He had been writing

poetry for quite some time and his first collection, Poetical Sketches, appeared in 1783. While

Blake was busy with commissions he also undertook the task of creating the engravings that

would illustrate his own poetry, and he also printed them himself. He experimented with an early

method of creating images and text on the same plate. His highly detailed illustrations often

focus on parts of the human anatomy or fantastically imaginative creatures surrounded by

various natural forms. Often tackling difficult metaphorical themes, his characters embodying

inspiration and creativity do battle with oppressive forces like law and religion. He employed

techniques for decorative margins and hand-coloured the printed images, or printed with the

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colour already on the wood or copper plate, the paint of which he mixed himself. This attention

to the craft and details of each volume make no two of his works alike. He also illustrated works

for other writers and poets including Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s Original Stories from Real

Life (1788).

The Book of Thel (1789), one of Blake’s first long narrative poems, was followed by the

first of his prophetical works, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (c.1793). Other works finished

around this time were America: A Prophesy (1793), Europe: A Prophesy (1794), Visions of the

Daughters of Albion (1793), and The Book of Urizen (1794).

In 1800, the Blakes moved to Felpham in Sussex where William was commissioned to

illustrate works by his then patron, poet William Hayley. In 1803 Blake was charged with

sedition after a violent confrontation with soldier John Scolfield in which Blake uttered

treasonable remarks against the King. He was later acquitted. In 1805 he started his series of

illustrations for the Book of Revelations and various other publications including Geoffrey

Chaucer’s 14th Century Canterbury Tales, Robert John Thornton’s Virgil and John Milton’s

Paradise Lost. Milton: A Poem was published around 1811. Jerusalem: The Emanation of the

Giant Albion (c.1820) is Blake’s longest illuminated work.

In 1821 the Blakes moved to lodgings in Fountain Court, Strand. There he finished his

work on the Book of Job in 1825, commissioned by his last patron John Linnell. The following

year he started a series of watercolours for Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy, which he worked

on up to the day of his death. William Blake died at home on 12 August, 1827. Unable to pay for

a funeral, Linnell loaned the money to Catherine. Blake was buried in an unmarked grave in the

Non-Conformist Bunhill Fields in London where Catherine was buried four years later among

other notable figures of dissent like Daniel Defoe and John Bunyan. A grave marker now stands

near to where they were buried. In 1957 a memorial to Blake and his wife was erected in Poet’s

Corner of Westminster Abbey, London.

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Blake’s MasterpiecesPoems

A POISON TREE

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

I WAS angry with my friend:

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

 

And I watered it in fears,

Night and morning with my tears;

And I sunnèd it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles.

 

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright;

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine,

 

And into my garden stole,

When the night had veiled the pole:

In the morning glad I see

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My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

CRADLE SONG

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

SLEEP, sleep, beauty bright,

Dreaming in the joys of night;

Sleep, sleep; in thy sleep

Little sorrows sit and weep.

 

Sweet babe, in thy face

Soft desires I can trace,

Secret joys and secret smiles,

Little pretty infant wiles.

 

As thy softest limbs I feel,

Smiles as of the morning steal

O'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breast

Where thy little heart doth rest.

 

O the cunning wiles that creep

In thy little heart asleep!

When thy little heart doth wake,

Then the dreadful night shall break.

HEAR THE VOICE

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

HEAR the voice of the Bard,

Who present, past, and future, sees;

Whose ears have heard

The Holy Word

That walk'd among the ancient trees;

 

Calling the lapsèd soul,

And weeping in the evening dew;

That might control

The starry pole,

And fallen, fallen light renew!

 

'O Earth, O Earth, return!

Arise from out the dewy grass!

Night is worn,

And the morn

Rises from the slumbrous mass.

 

'Turn away no more;

Why wilt thou turn away?

The starry floor,

The watery shore,

Is given thee till the break of day.'

JERUSALEM (from 'Milton')

by: William Blake (1757-1827)8

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 chariot 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.

THE LITTLE BLACK BOY

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

MY mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O, my soul is white! White as an angel is the English child, But I am black, as if bereaved of light.   My mother taught me underneath a tree, And, sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissèd me, And, pointing to the East, began to say:   'Look at the rising sun: there God does live, And gives His light, and gives His heat away, And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.   'And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love; And these black bodies and this sunburnt face Are but a cloud, and like a shady grove.   'For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear, The cloud will vanish, we shall hear His voice, Saying, "Come out from the grove, my love and care, And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice."'  

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Thus did my mother say, and kissèd 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,   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.

LOVE'S SECRET

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

NEVER seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be; For the gentle wind doth move Silently, invisibly.   I told my love, I told my love, I told her all my heart, Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears. Ah! she did depart!   Soon after she was gone from me, A traveller came by, Silently, invisibly: He took her with a sigh.

MAD SONG

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

THE wild winds weep,

And the night is a-cold;

Come hither, Sleep,

And my griefs enfold! . . .

But lo! the morning peeps

Over the eastern steeps,

And the rustling beds of dawn

The earth do scorn.

 

Lo! to the vault

Of pavèd heaven,

With sorrow fraught,

My notes are driven:

They strike the ear of Night,

Make weak the eyes of Day;

They make mad the roaring winds,

And with the tempests play,

 

Like a fiend in a cloud,

With howling woe

After night I do crowd

And with night will go;

I turn my back to the east

From whence comforts have

increased;

For light doth seize my brain

With frantic pain.

SONGS OF INNOCENCE

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

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PIPING down the valleys wild,

Piping songs of peasant glee,

On a cloud I saw a child,

And he, laughing, said to me:

 

'Pipe a song about a lamb!'

So I piped with merry cheer.

'Piper, pipe that song again;'

So I piped: he wept to hear.

 

'Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;

Sing thy songs of happy cheer!'

So I sang the same again,

While he wept with joy to hear.

 

'Piper, sit thee down and write

In a book, that all may read.'

So he vanished from my sight;

And I plucked a hollow reed,

 

And I made a rural pen,

And I stain'd the water clear,

And I wrote my happy songs

Every child may joy to hear.

NIGHT

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

THE sun descending in the west,

The evening star does shine;

The birds are silent in their nest.

And I must seek for mine.

The moon, like a flower

In heaven's high bower,

With silent delight

Sits and smiles on the night.

 

Farewell, green fields and happy

grove,

Where flocks have took delight:

Where lambs have nibbled, silent

move

The feet of angels bright;

Unseen they pour blessing

And joy without ceasing

On each bud and blossom,

On each sleeping bosom.

 

They look in every thoughtless nest

Where birds are cover'd warm;

They visit caves of every beast,

to keep them all from harm:

If they see any weeping

That should have been sleeping,

They pour sleep on their head,

And sit down by their bed.

 

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When wolves and tigers howl for

prey,

They pitying stand and weep,

Seeking to drive their thirst away

And keep them from the sheep.

But, if they rush dreadful,

The angels, most heedful,

Receive each mild spirit,

New worlds to inherit.

 

And there the lion's ruddy eyes

Shall flow with tears of gold:

And pitying the tender cries,

And walking round the fold:

Saying, 'Wrath by His meekness,

And, by His health, sickness,

Are driven away

From our immortal day.

 

'And now beside thee, bleating lamb,

I can lie down and sleep,

Or think on Him who bore thy name,

Graze after thee, and weep.

For, wash'd in life's river,

My bright mane for ever

Shall shine like the gold

As I guard o'er the fold.'

THE TIGER

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

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 threw 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?

THE SICK ROSE

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by: William Blake (1757-1827)

O ROSE, thou art sick! The invisible worm, That flies in the night, In the howling storm,   Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy; And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.

TO THE EVENING STAR

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

THOU fair-hair'd angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the

mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed! Smile on our loves, and while thou

drawest the Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver

dew On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on The lake; speak silence with thy

glimmering eyes, And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full

soon, Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages

wide, And then the lion glares through the dun

forest: The fleeces of our flocks are cover'd with Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine

influence!

TO SPRING

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

O THOU with dewy locks, who lookest

down

Through the clear windows of the morning,

turn

Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,

Which in full choir hails thy approach, O

Spring!

 

The hills tell one another, and the listening

Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn'd

Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth

And let thy holy feet visit our clime!

 

Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our

winds

Kiss thy perfumèd garments; let us taste

Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy

pearls

Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee.

 

O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour

Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put

Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head,

Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee.

TO THE MUSES

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

WHETHER on Ida's shady brow

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Or in the chambers of the East,

The chambers of the Sun, that now

From ancient melody have ceased;

 

Whether in heaven ye wander fair,

Or the green corners of the earth,

Or the blue regions of the air

Where the melodious winds have

birth;

 

Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,

Beneath the bosom of the sea,

Wandering in many a coral grove;

Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry;

 

How have you left the ancient love

That bards of old enjoy'd in you!

The languid strings do scarcely

move,

The sound is forced, the notes are

few.

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Books

Poetical Sketches (1783) – Blake’s first collection of poems

The Book of Thel (1789) - one of Blake’s first long narrative poems

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (c.1793) the first of his prophetical works

America: A Prophesy (1793)

Europe: A Prophesy (1794)

Visions of the Daughters of Albion (1793)

The Book of Urizen (1794).

Paintings

The archetype of the Creator is a familiar image in Blake's work. Here, the demiurgic figure Urizen prays before the world he has forged. The Song of Los is the third in a series of illuminated books painted by Blake and his wife, collectively known as the Continental Prophecies.

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The archetype of the Creator is a familiar image in Blake's work. Here, the demiurgic figure Urizen prays before the world he has forged. The Song of Los is the third in a series of illuminated books painted by Blake and his wife, collectively known as the Continental Prophecies.

Blake's Ancient of Days. The "Ancient of Days" is described in Chapter 7 of the Book of Daniel.

References:

http://ipoet.com/ARCHIVE/BEYOND/Blake/William.html

C:\Users\User\Desktop\William Blake - Biography and Works.mht

C:\Users\User\Desktop\William Blake - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.mht

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