I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came to lie
At rest within the ground,
'Twere pleasant, that in flowery June
When brooks send up a cheerful tune,
And groves a joyous sound,
The sexton's hand, my grave to make,
The rich, green mountain-turf should break.
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Do you recall that night in June
Upon the Danube River;
We listened to the landler-tune,
read more
Do you recall that night in June
Upon the Danube River;
We listened to the landler-tune,
We watched the moonbeams quiver.
Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious read more
Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.
The grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.
The grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.
Here's an acre sown indeed,
With the richest royalest seed.
Here's an acre sown indeed,
With the richest royalest seed.
Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down;
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
read more
Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down;
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
With here and there a violet bestrown,
Fast by a brook or fountain's murmuring wave;
And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.
The grave is Heaven's golden gate,
And rich and poor around it wait;
O Shepherdess of England's read more
The grave is Heaven's golden gate,
And rich and poor around it wait;
O Shepherdess of England's fold,
Behold this gate of pearl and gold!
- William Blake,
And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then read more
And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays.
No price is set on the lavish summer;
June may be had by the poorest comer.
No price is set on the lavish summer;
June may be had by the poorest comer.
What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the read more
What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the image of his God,
Erect and free,
Unscourged by Superstition's rod.
