
AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE
This collection of paintings were based on the William Blake poem ‘The Auguries of Innocence’ before writing my own based on the William Wordsworth poem 'Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798'
In each piece, extracts from the poem are painted underneath before being abstracted with colour that I believe are correlated to the words, my interpretation.








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THE AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE
William Blake 1803
To see a World in a Grain of SandÂ
And a Heaven in a Wild FlowerÂ
Hold Infinity in the palm of your handÂ
And Eternity in an hour
A Robin Red breast in a CageÂ
Puts all Heaven in a RageÂ
A Dove house filld with Doves & PigeonsÂ
Shudders Hell thr' all its regionsÂ
A dog starvd at his Masters GateÂ
Predicts the ruin of the StateÂ
A Horse misusd upon the RoadÂ
Calls to Heaven for Human bloodÂ
Each outcry of the hunted HareÂ
A fibre from the Brain does tearÂ
A Skylark wounded in the wingÂ
A Cherubim does cease to singÂ
The Game Cock clipd & armd for fightÂ
Does the Rising Sun affrightÂ
Every Wolfs & Lions howlÂ
Raises from Hell a Human SoulÂ
The wild deer, wandring here & thereÂ
Keeps the Human Soul from CareÂ
The Lamb misusd breeds Public StrifeÂ
And yet forgives the Butchers knifeÂ
The Bat that flits at close of EveÂ
Has left the Brain that wont Believe
The Owl that calls upon the NightÂ
Speaks the Unbelievers fright
He who shall hurt the little WrenÂ
Shall never be belovd by MenÂ
He who the Ox to wrath has movdÂ
Shall never be by Woman lovd
The wanton Boy that kills the FlyÂ
Shall feel the Spiders enmityÂ
He who torments the Chafers SpriteÂ
Weaves a Bower in endless NightÂ
The Catterpiller on the LeafÂ
Repeats to thee thy Mothers griefÂ
Kill not the Moth nor ButterflyÂ
For the Last Judgment draweth nighÂ
He who shall train the Horse to WarÂ
Shall never pass the Polar BarÂ
The Beggars Dog & Widows CatÂ
Feed them & thou wilt grow fatÂ
The Gnat that sings his Summers SongÂ
Poison gets from Slanders tongueÂ
The poison of the Snake & NewtÂ
Is the sweat of Envys FootÂ
The poison of the Honey BeeÂ
Is the Artists Jealousy
The Princes Robes & Beggars RagsÂ
Are Toadstools on the Misers BagsÂ
A Truth thats told with bad intentÂ
Beats all the Lies you can inventÂ
It is right it should be soÂ
Man was made for Joy & WoeÂ
And when this we rightly knowÂ
Thro the World we safely goÂ
Joy & Woe are woven fineÂ
A Clothing for the soul divineÂ
Under every grief & pineÂ
Runs a joy with silken twineÂ
The Babe is more than swadling Bands
Throughout all these Human LandsÂ
Tools were made & Born were handsÂ
Every Farmer Understands
Every Tear from Every EyeÂ
Becomes a Babe in EternityÂ
This is caught by Females brightÂ
And returnd to its own delightÂ
The Bleat the Bark Bellow & RoarÂ
Are Waves that Beat on Heavens ShoreÂ
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneathÂ
Writes Revenge in realms of DeathÂ
The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air
Does to Rags the Heavens tearÂ
The Soldier armd with Sword & GunÂ
Palsied strikes the Summers Sun
The poor Mans Farthing is worth moreÂ
Than all the Gold on Africs Shore
One Mite wrung from the Labrers handsÂ
Shall buy & sell the Misers LandsÂ
Or if protected from on highÂ
Does that whole Nation sell & buyÂ
He who mocks the Infants FaithÂ
Shall be mockd in Age & DeathÂ
He who shall teach the Child to DoubtÂ
The rotting Grave shall neer get outÂ
He who respects the Infants faithÂ
Triumphs over Hell & DeathÂ
The Childs Toys & the Old Mans ReasonsÂ
Are the Fruits of the Two seasonsÂ
The Questioner who sits so slyÂ
Shall never know how to ReplyÂ
He who replies to words of DoubtÂ
Doth put the Light of Knowledge outÂ
The Strongest Poison ever knownÂ
Came from Caesars Laurel CrownÂ
Nought can Deform the Human RaceÂ
Like to the Armours iron braceÂ
When Gold & Gems adorn the PlowÂ
To peaceful Arts shall Envy BowÂ
A Riddle or the Crickets CryÂ
Is to Doubt a fit ReplyÂ
The Emmets Inch & Eagles MileÂ
Make Lame Philosophy to smileÂ
He who Doubts from what he seesÂ
Will neer Believe do what you PleaseÂ
If the Sun & Moon should DoubtÂ
Theyd immediately Go outÂ
To be in a Passion you Good may DoÂ
But no Good if a Passion is in youÂ
The Whore & Gambler by the StateÂ
Licencd build that Nations FateÂ
The Harlots cry from Street to StreetÂ
Shall weave Old Englands winding SheetÂ
The Winners Shout the Losers CurseÂ
Dance before dead Englands HearseÂ
Every Night & every MornÂ
Some to Misery are BornÂ
Every Morn and every NightÂ
Some are Born to sweet delightÂ
Some are Born to sweet delightÂ
Some are Born to Endless NightÂ
We are led to Believe a LieÂ
When we see not Thro the EyeÂ
Which was Born in a Night to perish in a NightÂ
When the Soul Slept in Beams of LightÂ
God Appears & God is LightÂ
To those poor Souls who dwell in NightÂ
But does a Human Form DisplayÂ
To those who Dwell in Realms of day