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Read more poems by William Blake: William Blake Poems at Poetry X.

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 sung 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.

Added: 14 Oct 2001 | Last Read: 3 Sep 2026 4:44 AM | Viewed: 9870 times

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