An innocent child saw suns in the trees,
Angels and fields bathed in light,
Eternity’s sunrise, a burnished penumbra,
Concerned conversations, endless night.
A parochial school was no place for this child,
Full of wonder and an artist’s insight,
An original thinker, a visionar seer,
A prophet for all ages bathed in God’s light.
A callow young man fighting folklore and fear,
Words and images danced in the flames,
Songs of Innocence and experience
Urizen’s blindness, a Tyger tamed.
The myopic mocked but some saw his truth,
The ethereal made tangible and real,
The doors of perception – open and cleansed,
A poet a prophet with biblical zeal.
One day within earshot, he said: “damn the king!”
In England’s green and pleasant land.
Upon William confusion had come to call,
But the sword stayed sheathed in Albion’s hand.
Alas, when he passed only penury was left,
But to us he leaves his timeless work,
For a struggling artist or an inquisitive child,
For the rich and the poor, for the sick and infirm.
In old Albion’s arms now William sleeps,
In Bunhill Fields he lies in state,
The greatest Englishman? There is no doubt!
An artist for all ages: William Blake!
** ~ **