Aug 22, 2009 22:14
The Clod & the Pebble
by 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 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 another's loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite."
I'm not sure why but it struck a cord. Do you agree w/ the Clod or the Pebble? And which one's definition would you fall into? I'm not sure who I agree w/. Probably the Clod, who's idea I would like to think I fall into.