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The Clod and the Pebble

By William Blake 1757–1827 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 Hell’s 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 another’s loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven’s despite.”
 
And so this blog is intended to be the space where, for a few minutes a day, maybe longer, maybe less often, I will seek only to please myself, to cast off the clod and wear the pebble’s cloak, and perhaps – in so doing – I might find myself generating that creative energy which was Blake’s ‘Hell’.

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