William Blake
Who is William Blake?
William Blake is a british poet who lived between the 18th and the 19th century. He is considered to be one of the poets of Romanticism since in his works instinct prevails over reason and nature is the main theme.
Main Works
William Blake’s most famous works are two collections of poems:
- Songs Of Innocence
- Songs Of Experience
They were written in two different periods of his life and the first ones show the innocent and pleasing aspects of nature, whereas the second ones show the violence which resides within nature.
The most significant confrontation between the two collection may be found between two poems belonging respectively to the two: “The Lamb” and “The Tiger”.
The Lamb
The poem is about the origin of the Lamb and the analogies with the child and, most importantly, God. The semantic field used is the one of joy, happiness and nature. Here God is described as ‘meek’ and ‘mild’.
Little Lamb, who made thee?
The Lamb – William Blake
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice!
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
The Tiger
The poem is about the question of who made the tiger, such a violent creature, and if it’s the same being who made the Lamb. In that case it is questioned the origin of the world and the contrast between good and evil.
Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright
The Tyger – William Blake
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? And what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
This was The Gothic Novel! 😉
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