The Clod And 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 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 itself to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another’s loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven’s despite”.
