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Poem by William Blake Songs of Experience. The Clod and the Pebble '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 Self to please, To bind another to its delight, Joys in another's loss of ease, And builds a hell in heaven's despite.' William Blake William Blake's other poems:
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