William Blake

Once Neil Evernden had proven to me that by accepting the objective scientific world-view one also must accept that we don't exist (the human "mind" not being objectively scientifically provable) I decided it was time for a break . . .so I turned to my absolute favorite poet. Evernden had actually also mentioned Blake a little earlier in the chapter.

"...William Blake, who rejected the idea of passively achieving knowledge of the world without engagement of the imagination, which could reveal that which is more real, so to speak-that which transcends the limitation of sensation or reasoning, and which constitutes wisdom rather than mere knowledge." (Evernden, 1992; p. 81)

So I looked through some of my Blake collection to see if I could find some examples of this. So here are a couple pieces I found:

I come In Self-Annihilation

I come in self-annihilation and the grandeur of inspiration
To cast off rational demonstration by faith in the Saviour,
To cast off the rotten rags of memory by inspiration,
To cast off Bacon, Lock and Newton from Albion's covering,
To take of his filthy garments, and clothe him with imagination,
To cast aside from poetry all that is not inspiration,
That it shall no longer dare to mock with the aspersion of madness
Cast on the inspired by the tame high finisher of paltry blots
indefinite, or paltry rhymes, or paltry harmonies,
Who creeps into state government like a caterpillar to destroy -
To cast off the idiot questioner, who is always questioning,
But never capable of answering; who sits with a sly grin
Silently plotting when to question, like a thief in a cave;
Who publishes doubt, and calls it knowledge; whose science is despair,
Whose pretense to knowledge is envy, whose whole science is
To destroy the wisdom of ages to gratify ravenous envy
That rages round him like a wolf day and night without rest.
He smiles with condensension, he talks of benevolence and virtue
And those who act with benevolence and virtue they murder time on time!
These are the destroyers of Jerusalem, these are the murderers
Of Jesus, who deny the faith and mock at eternal life;
Who pretend to poetry that they may destroy imagination
By imitation of nature's images drawn from remembrance!
These are the sexual garments, the abomination of desolation
Hiding the human liniments as with an ark and curtains,
Which Jesus rent - and now shall wholly purge away with fire,
Till generation is swallowed up in regeneration . . .
(Milton, plate 41, 2-28; c. 1804 engraved c. 1808-10)

Trembling I sit

Trembling I sit day and night. My friends are astonished at me, Yet they forgive my wanderings. I rest not from my great task - To open the eternal worlds, to open the immortal eyes Of Man inwards into the worlds of thought; into Eternity Ever expanding in the bosom of God, the human imagination!
(Jerusalem, plate 5, 16-20; c. 1804-7, engraved c. 1818)