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.
(Songs of Experience)
To see a World in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
Do what you will this life's a fiction,
And is made up of contradiction.
The look of love alarms,
Because it's fill'd with fire;
But the look of soft deceit
Shall win the lover's hire.
If you trap the moment before it's ripe,
The tears of repentance you'll certainly wipe;
But if once you let the ripe moment go,
You can never wipe off the tears of woe.
Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My toughtless hand
Has brush'd away.
Am not I
A fly like thee ?
Or art not thou
A man like me ?
For I dance,
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live
Or if I die.
(Actually I'm not that fond of poetry. William Blake is the proverbial exception.)
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