THE LAMB

Songs_of_Innocence_and_of_Experience,_copy_C,_1789,_1794_(Library_of_Congress),_object_8_The_Lamb.jpg

THE LAMB

Little Lamb who made thee 

         Dost thou know who made thee 

Gave thee life & bid thee feed. 

By the stream & o'er the mead; 

Gave thee clothing of delight, 

Softest clothing wooly bright; 

Gave thee such a tender voice, 

Making all the vales rejoice! 

         Little Lamb who made thee 

         Dost thou know who made thee 

         Little Lamb I'll tell thee, 

         Little Lamb I'll tell thee!

He is called by thy name, 

For he calls himself a Lamb: 

He is meek & he is mild, 

He became a little child: 

I a child & thou a lamb, 

We are called by his name. 

         Little Lamb God bless thee. 

         Little Lamb God bless thee.

- William Blake

R. VAUGHAN WILLIAMS: The Lamb from Ten Blake Songs

With Easter and Passover having recently passed by, I was thinking I am a bit late with this post, but then just the other day, this was my horoscope:

This year has already seen you doing some serious work on yourself, Capricorn. Today’s skies give you a glimpse into the heart of this self-propelled project, as your past vs. present life are the dominant themes that need addressing today. “

Beyond the Christ-like, Agnus Dei imagery that dominates Blake’s poem, there is this persistent question: “Who made thee?”. The horoscope made me think to this poem, which was already dogging my mind, as it is the next in Vaughan Williams’ cycle. One fascinating factoid I discovered while researching this little song was that Vaughan Williams apparently detested this poem of Blake’s, and even planned to omit it from this cycle of songs in his initial planning, calling the poem “that horrible little lamb - a poem I hate!” It seems that despite his disdain for the poem, it nonetheless inspired him musically. It’s an extraordinary creation considering it was born out of such initial negativity.

I was recently chatting with a friend on his podcast about the past, regret and the historical hurts and traumas that make up our baggage in the present. We were chatting in particular about being gay, the various timelines at which we came out of the closet, and the deferment of revealing ourselves not just to the world, but also to ourselves. We discussed the frustrations of opportunities missed, the wondering about what might have been, and mused about the time that feels lost. Our conversation left me thinking about the experiences that form us, and the paths that we take to get here to the present moment.

It is so easy to look back and focus on the wounds life inevitably inflicts upon us, railing against the injustice of them, clinging to the suffering we felt and blaming them for the predicaments of our present moment. It is so much more difficult to accept them as immutable and embrace them for making us who we are today.

Urizen - Blake’s mythological creator

Urizen - Blake’s mythological creator

I wonder if this is some of what Blake himself was musing about when he wrote this poem. His life was one of incredible artistic frustration: he suffered numerous and repeated rejections of his work, which was largely misunderstood and under-appreciated in his own time. Yet still he kept on his path, creating the many beautiful things which have seeped into our collective consciousness, begging us to stop and think to this day. Alternatively, when he composed this poem he also may have been looking back on that time when he was pristine, unscarred and purely innocent, unmarred by the trauma of experience. Either way - his ability to maintain his connection with that precious inner child with an unadulterated sense of wonder is remarkable. Personally, the only way I find that I can protect that part of me is by aggressively nurturing a glass-half-full perspective. Of course it is important to grieve our hurts. But it’s also important to remember that we are alive, and we are here. The journey is not over.

As dynamic beings, we are always evolving - it’s as if creation is an unending process. Part of creation (transformation?) occurs in the forge. It’s not without its burns. Objects of beauty can be made in the furnace - so can weapons of destruction.


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