Print made by William Blake, 1757–1827, BritishHand colored by William Blake, 1757–1827, BritishText by Edward Young, 1683–1765, BritishPublished by Richard Edwards, active 1796–1797, British
Title:
'Like that, the dial speaks; and points to thee' (Page 33)
Date:
1797
Materials & Techniques:
Etching, engraving, and letterpress, with hand coloring in watercolor on moderately thick, slightly textured, cream wove paper
Dimensions:
Spine: 17 1/2 inches (44.5 cm)
Inscription(s)/Marks/Lettering:
Lettered inside image: "33 | Erewhile high-flush'd with insolence and wine? | *Like that, the dial speaks; and points to thee, | LORENZO! loth to break thy banquet up. | 'O man, thy kingdom is departing from thee; | 'And, while it lasts, is emptier than my shade'. | Its silent language such; nor need'st thou call | Thy magi, to decypher what it means: | Know, like the Median, fate is in thy walls: | Dost ask, how? whence? Belshazzar-like, amazed? | Man's make encloses the sure seeds of death; | Life feeds the murderer: ingrate! he thrives | On her own meal, and then his nurse devours. | But here, LORENZO, the delusion lies; | That solar shadow, as it measures life, | It life resembles too: life speeds away | From point to point, though seeming to stand still: | The cunning fugitive is swift by stealth, | Too subtle is the movement to be seen; | Yet soon man's hour is up, and we are gone. | Warnings point out our danger; gnomons, time: | As these are useless when the sun is set; | So those, but when more glorious reason shines: | Reason should judge in all; in reason's eye, | That sedentary shadow travels hard: | But such our gravitation to the wrong, | So prone our hearts to whisper what we wish, | 'Tis later with the wise, than he's aware; | A Wilmington goes slower than the sun; | And all mankind mistake their time of day; | Even age itself: fresh hopes are hourly sown"; lower right: "inv & sc | WB"; lower left: "Pubd. June 27th. 1796, by R. Edwards, No. 142 New Bond Street."; Lettered on facing page: "32 | And how they might have borne more welcome news: | Their answers form what men experience call; | If wisdom's friend, her best; if not, worst foe. | O reconcile them! kind experience cries, | 'There's nothing here, but what as nothing weighs; | 'The more our joy, the more we know it vain; | 'And by success are tutor'd to despair'. | Nor is it only thus, but must be so: | Who knows not this, though gray, is still a child: | Loose then from earth the grasp of fond desire, | Weigh anchor, and some happier clime explore. | Art thou so moor'd thou canst not disengage, | Nor give thy thoughts a ply to future scenes? | Since, by life's passing breath, blown up from earth, | Light, as the summer's dust, we take in air | A moment's giddy flight, and fall again; | Join the dull mass, increase the trodden soil, | And sleep 'till earth herself shall be no more; | Since then, as emmets, their small world o'erthrown, | We, sore amazed, from out earth's ruins crawl, | And rise to fate extreme of foul or fair, | As man's own choice, controller of the skies! | As man's despotic will, perhaps one hour | O how omnipotent is time! decrees; | Should not each warning give a strong alarm-- | Warning, far less than that of bosom torn | From bosom, bleeding o'er the sacred dead? | Should not each dial strike us as we pass, | Portentous, as the written wall which struck, | O'er midnight bowls, the proud Assyrian pale,"
Credit Line:
Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection
Copyright Status:
Public Domain
Accession Number:
B1992.8.10(19)
Classification:
Prints
Collection:
Prints and Drawings
Subject Terms:
woman | men | man | food | bed | cup | goblet | wine-glasses | literary theme | religious and mythological subject | serpent | snake | dead | wine | pointing | death