MR. SIPSOP'S SONG

A CROWNED king

On a white horse sitting,

With his trumpet sounding

And banners flying;

Through the clouds of smoke he makes his way. And the shout of his thousands fills the heart with rejoicing and victory,

And the shout of his thousands fills the heart with rejoicing and victory.

Victory! Victory! 'Twas William the Prince of Orange.

[The manuscript breaks off suddenly in the middle

of a page.]

RESENTMENTS

(The dates of these are all from about 1800 to 1808. The titles when in parentheses are conjectural. The rest are Blake's.)

(AFTER TOO MUCH KLOPSTOCK')

(Unfinished; ; no title. Not decent in lines three and four. The rest of the gaps are where the manuscript is totally illegible or obliterated by Blake.)

WHEN Klopstock England defied,

Up rose William Blake in his pride
For old Nobodaddy.

...

Then swore a great oath that would make
heaven quake,

And called aloud to English Blake.

Blake was away. His body was free

At Lambeth beneath the poplar tree.
From Lambeth then shouted he,
And... three times three.

The moon at that blushed fiery red ;
The stars threw down their spears and fled.

Astonished felt the intrippled turn,
And all his bowells began to yearn,

His bowells turned round three times three,
And locked in his soul with a golden key,
That from his body it never could be
Till the last judgment.

Then again old Nobodaddy swore

He never had seen such a thing before

Since Noah was shut in the ark,—
Since Eve first . . . her hell-found spark,
Since 'twas the fashion to go naked,
Since the old . . was created,

TO NOBODADDY

WHY art thou silent and invisible,
Father of Jealousy?

Why dost thou hide thyself in clouds
From every passing eye?

Why darkness and obscurity

In all thy words and laws,

That none can eat the fruit

But from the wily serpent's jaws?

Or is it because Jealousy

Gives Feminine applause?

LACEDEMONIAN INSTRUCTION

COME hither, boy: what see you there?
A fool caught in a religious snare.

AN ANSWER TO THE PARSON

WHY of the sheep do you not learn peace? Because I don't want you to shear my fleece.

TO GOD

If you have formed a circle to go into,
Go into it yourself, and see what you would do.

(A CRY)

(From a letter, August 1803.)

Он why was I born with a different face?
Why was I not born like this envious race?
If I look, each one starts: if I speak I offend;
Then I'm silent and passive and lose every friend.

Then my verse I dishonour, my pictures despise,
My person degrade, and my temper chastise;
And the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame;
All my talents I bury, and dead is my fame.

I am either too low, or too highly prized.
When elate I'm envied; when meek I'm despised.

(AN ALTERNATIVE)

GREAT things are done when men and mountains meet; These are not done by jostling in the street.

MR. STOTHARD TO MR. CROMEK

FOR Fortune's favours you your riches bring, But Fortune says she gave you no such thing. Why should you be unfaithful to your friends,Sneaking and backbiting, and odds and ends?

MR. CROMEK TO MR. STOTHARD FORTUNE favours the brave-old proverbs sayBut not with money-that is not her way: Turn back, turn back, you travel all in vain ; Turn through the iron gate, down sneaking lane.

ON F AND I—

I FOUND them blind, I taught them how to see, And now they know neither themselves nor me. "Tis excellent to turn a thorn to a pin,

A fool to a bolt, a knave to a glass of gin.

You call me mad, 'tis folly to do so,

To seek to turn a madman to a foe.

If you think as you speak, you are an ass,
If you do not, you are but as you was.

(HAYLEY AGAIN)

WHEN H―y finds out what you cannot do,
-y
That is the very thing he'll set you to.
If you break not your back 'tis not his fault,
But pecks of poison are not pecks of salt.

ON HAYLEY

To forgive enemies H- does pretend
Who never in his life forgave a friend,
And when he could not act upon my wife,
Hired a villain to bereave my life.

TO H. (HAYLEY)

THY friendship oft has made my heart to ache:
Do be my enemy for friendship's sake.

ON H, THE PICK THANK. (HAYLEY)

I WRITE the rascal thanks till he and I
With thanks and compliments are quite drawn dry.