Poems by Title

The Clod and the Pebble

Blake, William

The Clod and the Pebble

Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.

So sang a little Clod of Clay
Trodden with the cattle's feet;
But a Pebble of the brook,
Warbled out these metres meet

. Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to It's delight:
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.