If soul may look and body touch, Which is the more blest?

Their eyes mid many wrinkles, their eyes, Their ancient, glittering eyes, are gay.

My temptation is quiet. Here at life's end Neither loose imagination, Nor the mill of the mind Consuming its rag and bone, Can make the truth known.

Heaven blazing into the head: Tragedy wrought to its uttermost. Though Hamlet rambles and Lear rages, And all the drop-scenes drop at once Upon a hundred thous…

I was afraid that by observing objects with my eyes and trying to comprehend them with each of my other senses I might blind my soul altogether.

Then dawns the Invisible; the Unseen its truth reveals; My outward sense is gone, my inward essence feels - Its wings are almost free, its home, its harbour fo…

Blake said that the body was the soul's prison unless the five senses are fully developed and open. He considered the senses the 'windows of the soul.' When se…