WILLIAM BLAKE

WILLIAM BLAKE

(To Frederick Shields, on his Sketch of Blake’s Work-Room and Death-Room, 3 Fountain Court, Strand)

This is the place. Even here the dauntless soul,

    The unflinching hand, wrought on; till in that nook,

    As on that very bed, his life partook

New birth, and passed. Yon river’s dusky shoal,

Whereto the close-built coiling lanes unroll,

    Faced his work-window, whence his eyes would stare,

    Thought-wandering, unto nought that met them there,

But to the unfettered irreversible goal.

This cupboard, Holy of Holies, held the cloud

    Of his soul writ and limned; this other one,

His true wife’s charge, full oft to their abode

    Yielded for daily bread the martyr’s stone,

    Ere yet their food might be that Bread alone,

The words now home-speech of the mouth of God.

Frederic James Shields WILLIAM BLAKE’S ROOM Oil on canvas. 1882 Manchester City Galleries

Фредерик Джеймс Шилдз КОМНАТА УИЛЬЯМА БЛЕЙКА Холст, масло. 1882 Манчестерская художественная галерея