To see a World in a Grain of Sand



And a Heaven in a Wild Flower



Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand



And Eternity in an hour



A Robin Red breast in a Cage



Puts all Heaven in a Rage



A Dove house filld with Doves & Pigeons



Shudders Hell thr' all its regions



A dog starvd at his Masters Gate



Predicts the ruin of the State



A Horse misusd upon the Road



Calls to Heaven for Human blood



Each outcry of the hunted Hare



A fibre from the Brain does tear



A Skylark wounded in the wing



A Cherubim does cease to sing



The Game Cock clipd & armd for fight



Does the Rising Sun affright



Every Wolfs & Lions howl



Raises from Hell a Human Soul



The wild deer, wandring here & there



Keeps the Human Soul from Care



The Lamb misusd breeds Public Strife



And yet forgives the Butchers knife



The Bat that flits at close of Eve



Has left the Brain that wont Believe



The Owl that calls upon the Night



Speaks the Unbelievers fright



He who shall hurt the little Wren



Shall never be belovd by Men



He who the Ox to wrath has movd



Shall never be by Woman lovd



The wanton Boy that kills the Fly



Shall feel the Spiders enmity



He who torments the Chafers Sprite



Weaves a Bower in endless Night



The Catterpiller on the Leaf



Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief



Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly



For the Last Judgment draweth nigh



He who shall train the Horse to War



Shall never pass the Polar Bar



The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat



Feed them & thou wilt grow fat



The Gnat that sings his Summers Song



Poison gets from Slanders tongue



The poison of the Snake & Newt



Is the sweat of Envys Foot



The poison of the Honey Bee



Is the Artists Jealousy



The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags



Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags



A Truth thats told with bad intent



Beats all the Lies you can invent



It is right it should be so



Man was made for Joy & Woe



And when this we rightly know



Thro the World we safely go



Joy & Woe are woven fine



A Clothing for the soul divine



Under every grief & pine



Runs a joy with silken twine



The Babe is more than swadling Bands



Throughout all these Human Lands



Tools were made & Born were hands



Every Farmer Understands



Every Tear from Every Eye



Becomes a Babe in Eternity



This is caught by Females bright



And returnd to its own delight



The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar



Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore



The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath



Writes Revenge in realms of Death



The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air



Does to Rags the Heavens tear



The Soldier armd with Sword & Gun



Palsied strikes the Summers Sun



The poor Mans Farthing is worth more



Than all the Gold on Africs Shore



One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands



Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands



Or if protected from on high



Does that whole Nation sell & buy



He who mocks the Infants Faith



Shall be mockd in Age & Death



He who shall teach the Child to Doubt



The rotting Grave shall neer get out



He who respects the Infants faith



Triumphs over Hell & Death



The Childs Toys & the Old Mans Reasons



Are the Fruits of the Two seasons



The Questioner who sits so sly



Shall never know how to Reply



He who replies to words of Doubt



Doth put the Light of Knowledge out



The Strongest Poison ever known



Came from Caesars Laurel Crown



Nought can Deform the Human Race



Like to the Armours iron brace



When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow



To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow



A Riddle or the Crickets Cry



Is to Doubt a fit Reply



The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile



Make Lame Philosophy to smile



He who Doubts from what he sees



Will neer Believe do what you Please



If the Sun & Moon should Doubt



Theyd immediately Go out



To be in a Passion you Good may Do



But no Good if a Passion is in you



The Whore & Gambler by the State



Licencd build that Nations Fate



The Harlots cry from Street to Street



Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet



The Winners Shout the Losers Curse



Dance before dead Englands Hearse



Every Night & every Morn



Some to Misery are Born



Every Morn and every Night



Some are Born to sweet delight



Some are Born to sweet delight



Some are Born to Endless Night



We are led to Believe a Lie



When we see not Thro the Eye



Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night



When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light



God Appears & God is Light



To those poor Souls who dwell in Night



But does a Human Form Display



To those who Dwell in Realms of day





