Blake’s oak

 

On this very bough I sit on now

William and Catherine, nude perhaps, made vows

For all eternity and every living

Thing that they would spend their lives in giving

Everlasting gospels to the world.

From Felpham, near my home, they were unfurled

In prints and poems emboldened by the might

Of voices in our history that fight

Through every generation for greater power.

To feel the sap and growing strength in our

Intent to save all species and explore

The solar system and abolish war,

Was to feel the tree’s determination

Rooted in a freedom-loving nation.

Above, the sea breeze plays the million leaves;

We hear each contribution as it achieves

The dignity and the delight of being,

Whispering together new ways of seeing.

Hear the sound of the Dissenters calling,

See the Crown and dark deceivers falling;

How each leaf shimmers sun-beamed, free at last,

The Lollards liberated from the past,

The Levellers and Diggers dancing on this green,

All non-conformists vindicated, unseen

Conventicles now shaping this great tree,

Each one an angel of our history.

Where we can see just chains of events gone by,

They see one single catastrophe piling high.

Disaster after disaster at their feet.

They’d like to stay and make the past complete,

Awaken the dead who had been smashed, but a gale

From Paradise is blowing and makes them wail

As it crashes their wings so they can’t close and sweeps

Them to the future to which their backs keep

Turned as the debris before them grows higher and higher.

This is progress: civilisation and pyre

 

 

 

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Doug Nicholls
Painting William Blake
 

 

https://www.blakecottage.org/
https://www.blakecottage.org/home/donate

 

 

 

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