T. R. Hummer: William Blake and the Alligator
A young man still, to me he is the Ancient of Days
standing stern in the stern of the skiff, poling us
Over the jade mirror of the Tickfaw River.
Doug Anderson: Put Your Hand In My Wound
Jesus out of his tomb and wandering
among the rotting corpses in Ukraine,
dragging his bandages behind him.
Video: Martha Redbone sings ‘Sleep Sleep Beauty Bright’ by William Blake
In an enchanting lyrical rendition of William Blake’s poem “Sleep Sleep Beauty Bright,” singer Martha Redbone blends rhythm, blues and soul with traditional Native American music.
William Blake: The Fly
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
John Clare: The Thunder Mutters
The thunder mutters louder & more loud
With quicker motion hay folks ply the rake
Chard deNiord: The Music of Being
Hold a hazelnut up to your eyes
as a lens for seeing through,
then wake to a katydid and say its name.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Frost at Midnight
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch…
Video: Patti Smith sings “The Tyger” by William Blake
Through song and story, Patti Smith gives us new insight into the transcendent genius of William Blake.
William Blake: Ah, Sunflower
Ah, sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun
John Clare: Summer
I’ll lean upon her breast and I’ll whisper in her ear
That I cannot get a wink o’sleep for thinking of my dear;
I hunger at my meat and I daily fade away
Like the hedge rose that is broken in the heat of the day.
John Clare: The Badger
The badger grunting on his woodland track
With shaggy hide and sharp nose scrowed with black
Roots in the bushes and the woods, and makes
A great high burrow in the ferns and brakes.
William Blake: A Poison Tree
I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. . And … Continue reading
William Wordsworth: Tintern Abbey
Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798 . Five years have past; five summers, with the … Continue reading
Dorothy Wordsworth: The moon had the old moon in her arms
The columbine … is a graceful slender creature, a female seeking retirement, and growing freest and most graceful where it is most alone. I observed that the more shaded plants … Continue reading
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