Auguries of Innocence

the Vision of the Last Judgement-William Blake 1808
William Blake was widely derided during his lifetime. William Wordsworth said, “There was no doubt that this poor man was mad” and this view of poor, mad Blake seems to have been the accepted wisdom, even among the Romantics.

However Blake also mixed with major radical figures who would have an immeasurable influence on the history of ideas. For long periods Blake’s main employer and only source of income was the radical bookseller Joseph Johnson, who introduced Blake to Thomas Paine, author of Rights of Man, William Godwin, the godfather of anarchism, and Mary Wollstonecraft, the first feminist and author of Vindication of the Rights of Women, as well as advocates for the abolition of slavery. Although Blake would remain on the periphery of this circle due to his humble background, lack of formal education and visionary tendencies, it cannot be doubted that he shared their radicalism and belief in equality and freedom, especially sexual freedom.

As can be seen from Auguries for Innocence, Blake saw our relations to the natural world as another example of injustice and tyranny. Taking several occult ideas regarding the microcosm/macrocosm (To see a world in a grain of sand) and the Swedenborgian theory of correspondences (the basic relationship between two differing levels of existence), Blake presents in randomly assembled couplets a damning indictment of humanity’s casual cruelty, which, as he views the universe as interconnected, have far-reaching and reverberating consequences across time and in other realms. However Blake, with his belief in the innate divinity of humanity that would become apparent if we cleanse the doors of perception and escape the prison of the senses five, doesn’t despair. He knows that we can do better.

Auguries of Innocence

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.

A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.

A dove-house fill’d with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thro’ all its regions.
A dog starv’d at his master’s gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.

A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.

A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipt and arm’d for fight
Does the rising sun affright.

Every wolf’s and lion’s howl
Raises from hell a human soul.

The wild deer, wand’ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misus’d breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher’s knife.

The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won’t believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever’s fright.

He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be belov’d by men.
He who the ox to wrath has mov’d
Shall never be by woman lov’d.

The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider’s enmity.
He who torments the chafer’s sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.

The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother’s grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the last judgement draweth nigh.

He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar’s dog and widow’s cat,
Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.

The gnat that sings his summer’s song
Poison gets from slander’s tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of envy’s foot.

The poison of the honey bee
Is the artist’s jealousy.

The prince’s robes and beggar’s rags
Are toadstools on the miser’s bags.
A truth that’s told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.

It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro’ the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

The babe is more than swaddling bands;
Throughout all these human lands;
Tools were made and born were hands,
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;

This is caught by females bright,
And return’d to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,
Are waves that beat on heaven’s shore.

The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes revenge in realms of death.
The beggar’s rags, fluttering in air,
Does to rags the heavens tear.

The soldier, arm’d with sword and gun,
Palsied strikes the summer’s sun.
The poor man’s farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric’s shore.

One mite wrung from the lab’rer’s hands
Shall buy and sell the miser’s lands;
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole nation sell and buy.

He who mocks the infant’s faith
Shall be mock’d in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne’er get out.

He who respects the infant’s faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child’s toys and the old man’s reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.

The questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.

The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar’s laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour’s iron brace.

When gold and gems adorn the plow,
To peaceful arts shall envy bow.
A riddle, or the cricket’s cry,
Is to doubt a fit reply.

The emmet’s inch and eagle’s mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne’er believe, do what you please.

If the sun and moon should doubt,
They’d immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.

The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation’s fate.
The harlot’s cry from street to street
Shall weave old England’s winding-sheet.

The winner’s shout, the loser’s curse,
Dance before dead England’s hearse.

Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.

We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro’ the eye,
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.

God appears, and God is light,
To those poor souls who dwell in night;
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

72 thoughts on “Auguries of Innocence

      1. Blake is a favourite here, along with De Sade and Goya, who, I agree elsewhere, completed the enlightenment by showing its limits and that there is only some much reason we can bear. All different figures but roughly from the same period and they have lasted the test of time remarkably well. As much as I fascinated by De Sade he is a troubling presence, whereas Blake is a luminous figure, he cast light and seemed like a lovely human being. He had troubles and would occasionally rage in bitterness, but never for long. His marriage to Kate also wasn’t with difficulties, they were childless, they were impoverished, she was upset by his desire for free love, but it still comes over as a remarkably tender and successful union with real warmth and love. After Blakes death she carried on seeking his work but wouldn’t undertake any business with first consulting Mr Blake from beyond the grave. She talked to him daily, just as Blake talking daily to his departed brother.

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

    This is an intriguing stanza… the two sides to every circumstance. Altogether the poem is lovely and thought provoking. I can see how you could devote yourself to the contemplation of such ponderings. Love the post and the poem ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes Blake loved his contraries and paradoxes. Beneath the simplicity of the writing there are deep, deep, depths. He was a member of a Swedenborgian congregation for a while, as well as hanging out with famous radicals, feminist, anarchists and dissenters, though he did split with the Swedenborgians which probably occasioned The Marriage of Heaven &a Hell. Oh and he rocked with the use of The ampersand.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I was actually thinking how that radical, very socially progressive circle was mainly dissenting Protestant evangelicals and of course Tom Paine played a part in American history. How times have changed, that segment is certainly not socially progressive anymore. Who doesn’t love a well used ampersand, who are these people?

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    1. Thank you Heart. The Tyger is the one poem I learnt in school that I don’t detest. I am a huge admirer, visionary, radical, occultist and a man who followed his own star to the end, what isn’t to love? This is my fourth post on him, not sure if you have read the others.

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      1. ❤ The poem of Blake's I ever read was The Poison Tree. It's so fucking grim and beautiful. It resonates in me, and still is among my favorites. P.S. I haven't forgotten about our collab. Family issues have limited my time.

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    1. Yes he was a true radical…Mary Wollstonecraft was married to Godwin but they believed in free love… Blake was impressed and suggested to Kate that they should maybe become a ménage a trois… Kate was upset. You know me Madeleine a treasure trove of useless information.

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  2. “We are lead to believe a lie
    when we see not thro’ the eye.”

    It makes me cry for “Sudan” the last white Northern rhinoceros humanely killed 19 March 2018.
    Chiron, wounding very last degree of the zodiac.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Heron. I am a huge admirer of Blake, this concern with ecology was far far ahead of its time. Strangely enough, the Marquis De Sade, Blake’s contemporary, fellow contrarian, radical thinker and in some ways his antithesis, also was concerned with the ecology. I will send you the link.


      1. My pleasure, i hope you enjoy and I would like to know your thoughts. Sometimes I think about what we have done to the natural realm and I wonder about our place in the scheme of things.


  3. Yes I read that post and enjoyed it as all of your posts are thought provoking and intelligent.
    I have read French literature in the past and enjoyed it but I know nothing of de Sade.
    I have a basic Buddhist belief which I incarnated with that all life is precious and it is not ours to judge whose is more worthy. Every creature will fight for its life and theirs is as relevant to them as mine is to me.
    All I can do here is try to preserve a sanctuary for all life. Well apart from cockroaches and bloodsuckers!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You are a good person Heron with a fine astrological knowledge. I like to approach things from an oblique angle though with some intellectual rigour, through analogy more than reason. I have written extensively on De Sade, having even contemplated a novel. His last will and testament again shows an ecological side…again without wishing to try your patience I will send you a link.


      1. Yes, thank God for the untameable Aquarian mind! Without it I don’t see how humans could have evolved. That admirable quality of being able to bridge chasms through inventive pole vaulting!
        A book on de Sade..why not?
        Also a volume of your poetry?
        You are a wellspring of interesting knowledge Mr. Cake!
        I know you have so many layers of knowledge, somehow you seem a bit out your time in this age, but I’m sure you can bridge that dissonance.
        You don’t try my patience, cheers.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thank you, aren’t all Aquarians a bit out of our time? Seems to be a common destiny. I would love to write a novel about De Sade at some point. I do have a volume of poetry out, Motion No. 69 by Alex Severs available on Amazon (shameless plug).


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