I’ve mentioned before that I love poetry.
I love the lilt, the play with language and wording.
I love the visual imagery a poet can create for their reader with a simple line of thought.
William Blake is one of my favourite poets.
Not only did he draw out wonderful imagery from his words, but he was a talented and other-worldly artist, creating art from metal etchings that most often included the poems themselves.
Some of his works are difficult to look at, with drastic themes and angry undertones. Yet, many I can appreciate for their simplicity and beauty.
This poem, “Love’s Secret” is short and simple but deep.
The subject is describing what it was like to finally voice his love only to have his hopes dashed.
His affection is rejected and the object of his love is eventually whisked away by another. Sad.
Blake does hint, though, that if you never voice your love, it will never come into being.
Love only happens when it is proclaimed and admitted.
For him, that love was lost.
Love is a risk, no matter how you seek it out.
You can never risk the good without risking the bad.
Perhaps I’m feeling a little melancholy tonight, since this poem, though a little sad, feels sweet to me.
Love’s secret is just that…a secret, an inward longing, unless risked to have a voice.
by William Blake
Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind doth move
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears.
Ah! she did depart!
Soon after she was gone from me,
A traveller came by,
He took her with a sigh.