The Lamb

The Lamb by William Blake

Little lamb, who made thee?
Does thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little lamb, who made thee?
Does thou know who made thee?

Little lamb, I’ll tell thee;
Little lamb, I’ll tell thee:
He is callèd by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild,
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are callèd by His name.
Little lamb, God bless thee!
Little lamb, God bless thee!

The Lamb

The Echoing Green

The Echoing Green by William Blake

The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies;
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring;
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around
To the bells’ cheerful sound;
While our sports shall be seen
On the echoing green.

Old John, with white hair,
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk.
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say,
‘Such, such were the joys
When we all—girls and boys—
In our youth-time were seen
On the echoing green.’

Till the little ones, weary,
No more can be merry:
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end.
Round the laps of their mothers
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest,
And sport no more seen
On the darkening green.

The Echoing Green

Introduction to Songs of Innocence

Two commented upon poems in two days, I must be mad!

Actually, this is just a notice that since my normal well has only holiday poems left within it, I’m moving on to some other works. In particular I am going to be posting quite a bit of work by my favorite poet of all time: William Blake. Hope you enjoy.

Continue reading “Introduction to Songs of Innocence”

Introduction to Songs of Innocence

Tam O’ Shanter

This one is a bit different from the other poems I’ve so far posted in a few ways. Importantly, I’ve been informed it is a translation of the original, which you can find here and may enjoy more http://www.robertburns.org.uk/Assets/Poems_Songs/tamoshanter.htm .

 

Also it is significantly longer than the other poems I’ve posted so far.

Continue reading “Tam O’ Shanter”

Tam O’ Shanter

Summoning

Summoning by Chris McDaniel

The Dead sing in the limbs of willow trees.
They come to windows,
Look in with eyes like Starlight,
And watch over our lives.

Your neighbor, the old man
Who kept vigil over the street,
Still watches over you,
An invisible spectator.

The Dead are in the shadows,
Dragging mud-caked wings
Through Labyrinthine alleys,
Protecting the lost and the lonely.

He says it was a young boy
Dressed in glowing white
Who dashed amongst the dark trees
And guided him back home.

The Dead dance amongst the dust,
That sparkles in the evening sun,
As their descendants explore forgotten places
And rediscover the past they share.

Can’t you feel Grandma close by
When you stand amongst the Stacks?
She makes sure all the books are neat
And that no one tumbles down those stairs.

The Dead long to draw life,
From the crystalline silence.
That’s what we say.
We want them to have that spark,
We want to return what was lost,
If only to feel the warmth
Of their arms around us,
One more time

Summoning

The Fairies

The Fairies by William Allingham

Up the airy mountain,
down the rushy glen,
we daren’t go a-hunting
for fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
trooping all together;
green jacket, red cap,
and white owl’s feather!
Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home-
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs
All night awake.
By the craggy hillside,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring
As dig one up in spite.
He shall find their sharpest thorns
In his bed at night
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen.
We daren’t go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl’s feather!

The Fairies