"Let us agree to give up (female) love;
then shall we be happy in Eternity." (From My Spectre)
Like everything else love has its contraries ("without contraries is no progression").
The little poem, The Clod and the Pebble, shows the two kinds of love succinctly:
"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."
Blake did have a happy faculty of being pointed succinctly.
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