the whispering...may hurt you...
but the printed word might kill you...
I heard an Angel singing
Thus he sung all day
Down pour'd the heavy rain
when the day was springing,
"Mercy, Pity, Peace
is the world's release."
over the new mown hay,
till the sun went down
and haycocks looked brown.
I heard a Devil curse
over the heath and the furze,
"Mercy could be no more,
if there was nobody poor,
and pity no more could be,
if all were as happy as we."
At his curse the sun went down,
And the heavens gave a frown.
over the new reap'd grain...
and Miseries' increase
is Mercy, Pity, Peace.
~ William Blake
illustrations on the inherently English life
and musings of S.P. Morrissey,
songwriter, poet, and perpetual cynic
1959 -
and things to love about Britain
2004 - beyond - mlmchang
last major update posted 18.07.08
p.s. this counter is wonky and wildly inaccurate (thanks Geocities...)