The Real Blake: A Portrait Biography
Chatto & Windus, 1907 - 443 Seiten
Philosopher. Luminary. Artist. William Blake was one of the best creative minds England ever produced. Discover his life with this fascinating biography.
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Seite 413 - I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone: The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat: Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
Seite 282 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood; (Loose his beard and hoary hair Streamed like a meteor to the troubled air;) And with a master's hand and prophet's fire Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre: 'Hark, how each giant oak and desert cave Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath!
Seite 80 - Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, And the dews of night arise, Come, come, leave off play, and let us away Till the morning appears in the skies.
Seite 379 - Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom He pleases.
Seite 221 - I may praise it, since I dare not pretend to be any other than the Secretary; the Authors are in Eternity.
Seite 373 - Here Reynolds is laid, and, to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind ; His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand ; His manners were gentle, complying, and bland ; Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart...
Seite 23 - This is one of the Gothic artists who built the Cathedrals in what we call the Dark Ages, wandering about in sheepskins and goatskins ; of whom the world was not worthy. Such were the Christians in all ages.
Seite 346 - If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.
Seite 158 - Does the Eagle know what is in the pit ; Or wilt thou go ask the Mole ? Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod, Or Love in a golden bowl...