The Price of Experience - William Blake

[Larry Robinson]

The Price of Experience				   

What is the price of experience? Do men buy it for a song?
Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the price
Of all that a man hath, his house , his wife, his children
Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy
And in the withered field where the farmer plows for bread in vain

It is an easy thing to triumph in the summer's sun
And in the vintage and to sing on the wagon loaded with corn

It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted
To speak the laws of prudence to the homeless wanderer
To listen to the hungry raven's cry in wintry season
When the red blood is filled with wine and with the marrow of lambs

It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements
To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughterhouse moan;
To see a god on every wind and a blessing on every blast 
To hear the sounds of love in the thunder storm 
	that destroys our enemies' house;
To rejoice in the blight that covers his field and the sickness
	 that cuts off his children

While our olive and vine sing and laugh round our door
	and our children bring fruit and flowers

Then the groan and dthe dolor are quite forgotten
	and the slave grinding at the mill
And the captive in chains and the poor in the prison
	 and the soldier in the field
When the shattered bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead

It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity:
Thus could I sing and thus rejoice: but it is not so with me

	- William Blake

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