Auguries Of Innocence Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCCDDEEFGHHIIJJKL HHMMNNJJOOJJPJJJQQPP RSJJTUJJJJVVJJWWWWXX XXYYYYPJJJRRZA2HHB2B 2RRYYPPC2A2JJC2A2DDP PJJD2E2F2F2G2G2PPH2H 2I2I2JJJJJJJJJ2J2K2K 2JJJJPPJJJJL2L2

To see a world in a grain of sandA
And a heaven in a wild flowerB
Hold infinity in the palm of your handA
And eternity in an hourB
A robin redbreast in a cageC
Puts all heaven in a rageC
A dove house filled with doves and pigeonsD
Shudders hell through all its regionsD
A dog starved at his master's gateE
Predicts the ruin of the stateE
A horse misused upon the roadF
Calls to heaven for human bloodG
Each outcry of the hunted hareH
A fibre from the brain does tearH
A skylark wounded in the wingI
A cherubim does cease to singI
The game cock clipped and armed for fightJ
Does the rising sun affrightJ
Every wolf's and lion's howlK
Raises from hell a human soulL
The wild deer wandering here and thereH
Keeps the human soul from careH
The lamb misused breeds public strifeM
And yet forgives the butcher's knifeM
The bat that flits at close of eveN
Has left the brain that won't believeN
The owl that calls upon the nightJ
Speaks the unbeliever's frightJ
He who shall hurt the little wrenO
Shall never be beloved by menO
He who the ox to wrath has movedJ
Shall never be by woman lovedJ
The wanton boy that kills the flyP
Shall feel the spider's enmityJ
He who torments the chafer's spriteJ
Weaves a bower in endless nightJ
The caterpillar on the leafQ
Repeats to thee thy mother's griefQ
Kill not the moth nor butterflyP
For the Last Judgment draweth nighP
He who shall train the horse to warR
Shall never pass the polar barS
The beggar's dog and widow's catJ
Feed them and thou wilt grow fatJ
The gnat that sings his summer's songT
Poison gets from Slander's tongueU
The poison of the snake and newtJ
Is the sweat of Envy's footJ
The poison of the honey beeJ
Is the artist's jealousyJ
The prince's robes and beggar's ragsV
Are toadstools on the miser's bagsV
A truth that's told with bad intentJ
Beats all the lies you can inventJ
It is right it should be soW
Man was made for joy and woeW
And when this we rightly knowW
Through the world we safely goW
Joy and woe are woven fineX
A clothing for the soul divineX
Under every grief and pineX
Runs a joy with silken twineX
The babe is more than swaddling bandsY
Throughout all these human landsY
Tools were made and born were handsY
Every farmer understandsY
Every tear from every eyeP
Becomes a babe in eternityJ
This is caught by females brightJ
And returned to its own delightJ
The bleat the bark bellow and roarR
Are waves that beat on heaven's shoreR
The babe that weeps the rod beneathZ
Writes Revenge in realms of deathA2
The beggar's rags fluttering in airH
Does to rags the heavens tearH
The soldier armed with sword and gunB2
Palsied strikes the summer's sunB2
The poor man's farthing is worth moreR
Than all the gold on Afric's shoreR
One mite wrung from the labourer's handsY
Shall buy and sell the miser's landsY
Or if protected from on highP
Does that whole nation sell and buyP
He who mocks the infant's faithC2
Shall be mocked in age and deathA2
He who shall teach the child to doubtJ
The rotting grave shall ne'er get outJ
He who respects the infant's faithC2
Triumphs over hell and deathA2
The child's toys and the old man's reasonsD
Are the fruits of the two seasonsD
The questioner who sits so slyP
Shall never know how to replyP
He who replies to words of doubtJ
Doth put the light of knowledge outJ
The strongest poison ever knownD2
Came from Caesar's laurel crownE2
Nought can deform the human raceF2
Like to the armour's iron braceF2
When gold and gems adorn the ploughG2
To peaceful arts shall Envy bowG2
A riddle or the cricket's cryP
Is to doubt a fit replyP
The emmet's inch and eagle's mileH2
Make lame philosophy to smileH2
He who doubts from what he seesI2
Will ne'er believe do what you pleaseI2
If the sun and moon should doubtJ
They'd immediately go outJ
To be in a passion you good may doJ
But no good if a passion is in youJ
The whore and gambler by the stateJ
Licensed build that nation's fateJ
The harlot's cry from street to streetJ
Shall weave old England's winding sheetJ
The winner's shout the loser's curseJ2
Dance before dead England's hearseJ2
Every night and every mornK2
Some to misery are bornK2
Every morn and every nightJ
Some are born to sweet delightJ
Some are born to sweet delightJ
Some are born to endless nightJ
We are led to believe a lieP
When we see not through the eyeP
Which was born in a night to perish in a nightJ
When the soul slept in beams of lightJ
God appears and God is lightJ
To those poor souls who dwell in nightJ
But does a human form displayL2
To those who dwell in realms of dayL2

William Blake



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