Mar 21 2005

The Garden of Love

Published by at 4:27 pm under William Blake Love Poems

The Garden of Love

William Blake

Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hells 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 anothers loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

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6 responses so far

6 Responses to “The Garden of Love”

  1. Gueston 17 Feb 2006 at 9:35 pm

    YOU SUCK haha

  2. Gueston 17 Feb 2006 at 9:36 pm

    Very beautiful each word touched me in a different way and made me think

  3. Gueston 29 Jun 2006 at 4:42 am

    this is not william blakes \”garden of love\”

  4. Gueston 03 Mar 2006 at 12:02 pm

    That was really good.

  5. Mad Poeton 23 Feb 2007 at 3:07 pm

    Absolutely correct. This is not \”Garden of Love\” but \”The Clod and the Pebble.\” And it\’s not written out correctly either. Get your act together people.

  6. no nameon 14 Dec 2011 at 9:52 am

    this poem is NOT the garden of love.

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