Poems of William Blake in txt speak

Jerslm

N did thOz fEt in Anshnt tIm

Wlk upon Englnd’s mwn10s grEn?

N wz th holy lam of God

On Englnd’s plesnt pastures sEn?

N did th cwntenance divIn

ShIn 4th upon hr clwded hilz?

N wz Jeruslm bilded hEr

Amng thEs drk satanic milz?

Brng me my bO of brnin gold!

Brng me my arowz of desIr!

Brng me my spEr! O clwds, unfold!

Brng me my chariot of fIr!

I wll nt Cs frm mntal fIt,

Nor shll my sord slEp in my hnd,

Til we hv bilt Jeruslm

In Englnd’s grn n plesnt lnd.

REds of Inocens

pipin dwn th valEs wild,

pipin sngs of plesnt glE,

on a clwd I saw a child,

n he lafin sed 2 me;

‘pIp a sng abwt a Lam!’

so I pIpd w/ mery chEr.

‘piper, pIp tht sng agen;’

so I pIpd: he wept 2 hEr.

‘drop thy pIp, thy hapE pIp;

sing thy sngs of hapE chEr!’

so I sung th sAm agen,

wIl he wept w/ joy 2 hEr.

‘piper, sit thE dwn n writ

in a buk tht all mA rEd.’

so he vanishd frm my sIt;

n I plukd a holO rEd.

n I mAd a rurl pen,

n I stand th water clEr,

n I rOt my hapE sngs

evry child mA joy 2 hEr.