Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake :: essays research papers

Songs of Innocence and Experience. (1794) by William BlakeSongs of InnocenceIntroduction yell down the valleys wildPiping songs of pleasant glee,On a cloud I saw a child,And he laughing said to me Pipe a song about a haveSo I piped with merry chear.Piper, pipe that song again -So I piped he wept to hear. Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe,Sing thy songs of happy chearSo I sung the same again,While he wept with joy to hear. Piper, sit thee down and writeIn a book that all may cross-file -So he vanishd from my sightAnd I pluckd a hollow reed, And I do a rural playpenAnd I staind the water clearAnd I wrote my happy songs,Every child may joy to hear. The Shepherd How sweet is the Shepherds sweet megabucksFrom the morn to the evening he straysHe shall follow his sheep all the dayAnd his tongue shall be filled with praise. For he hears the lambs innocent call,And he hears the ewes tender reply.He is watchful while they are in peace,For they know when their Shepherd is nigh. The Ecchoing Gr eenThe Sun does ariseAnd make happy the skies,The merry bells ringTo welcome the inceptionThe skylark and thrushThe birds of the bushSing louder aroundTo the bells chearful sound,While our sports shall be seenOn the Ecchoing Green. Old John with white hairDoes laugh away care seance under the oakAmong the old folk.They laugh at our play,And soon they all saySuch, such were the joysWhen we all girls & boys In our youth-time were seenOn the Ecchoing Green Till the junior-grade ones wearyNo more can be merry,The sun does descend,And our sports have an endRound the laps of their mothersMany sisters and brothers,Like birds in their nest,Are ready for appeaseAnd sport no more seenOn the darkening Green. The Lamb Little Lamb, who made thee?Dost thou know who made thee?Gave thee life & bid thee feedBy the stream & oer the meadGave thee clothing of delight,Softest clothing, woolly, brightGave thee such a tender voice,Making all the vales rejoiceLittle Lamb, who made thee,Dost thou know wh o made thee? Little Lamb, Ill tell thee,Little Lamb, Ill tell theeHe is called by thy nameFor he calls himself a Lamb.He is meek & he is mild,He became a critical childI a child & thou a lamb,We are called by his nameLittle Lamb god bless thee,Little Lamb god bless thee The Little Black BoyMy mother bore me in the southern wild,