The Two Songs

I HEARD an Angel Singing
When the day was springing:
"Mercy, pity, and peace,
Are the world's release."

So he sang all day
Over the new-mown hay,
Till the sun went down,
And the haycocks looked brown.

I heard a devil curse
Over the heath and the furse:
"Mercy vould be no more
If there were nobody poor,
And pity no more could be
If all were happy as ye:
And mutual fear brings peace,
Misery's increase
Are mercy, pity, and peace."

At his curse the sun went down,
And the heavens gave a frown.

William Blake (1757–1827)

Today is William Blake's birthday! This is, incidentally, the eighth poem by Blake I've posted here since I started posting poetry in my journal, more than any other poet. For now. By the end of December, another poet will share the lead, and by the end of January it will be a three-way tie. Ooh, foreshadowing!