the clod & 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 its delight;
Joys in another’s loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven’s despite.”

-William Blake







[Yes I will write something original soon ;D]


[I remember Jien reading this (and a lot more assorted poetry) to me when I was sick - so sweet eh.]


[Poetry-appreciative guys are kewl. ;D]


[So mm. We've been speaking through other's words for some time now, but I'll sit down and write something properly soon. I will I will. :) For the time being, you can read this post on my personal blog which I debated posting here, but didn't.]