William Blake's birthday

More titbits from The Writer's Almanac -

"It's the birthday of poet and artist William Blake, born in London (1757). When he was 25, he married an illiterate girl named Catherine Boucher, who was a devoted wife, although she once remarked, 'I have very little of Mr. Blake's company. He is always in Paradise.' A friend once dropped by to find them sitting in their garden, naked, reciting passages from Paradise Lost. 'Come in!' cried Blake. 'It's only Adam and Eve, you know!' Blake and his wife printed and bound his books, including Songs of Innocence and Experience.

On his deathbed at the age of 69, he said, 'Kate, you have been a good wife, I will draw your portrait.' He drew for an hour, loudly sang what she called 'songs of joy and triumph,' then died gently."

One of the best ways to go. That everyone could be so fortunate - to have your beloved spouse at your side, to do what you set out to do, and to have the strength to sing very heartily just before the Lord calls you home.

The Fly

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brush'd away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance,
And drink, & sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength & breath,
And the want
Of thought is death;

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live
Or if I die.

~ by William Blake

Posted by Monoceros at November 28, 2004 10:15 AM