"The Little Black Boy" is a poem by British poet William Blake, included in his 1789 publication Songs of Innocence. The poem argues for racial equality, insisting that earthly identity is temporary and that all are worthy of God's divine love. This is told through the voice of a "little black boy," who in turn is recounting the lessons taught to him by his mother in "the southern wild" (that is, in Africa). Blake is generally known as a radical, forward-thinking artist—to the extent that he was largely ignored in his own lifetime—and the poem aims for an empowering message. That said, it also reinforces many negative and outright racist stereotypes about Black people that were prevalent in the 18th century and, indeed, remain so today.
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1My mother bore me in the southern wild,
2And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
3White as an angel is the English child:
4But I am black as if bereav'd of light.
5My mother taught me underneath a tree
6And sitting down before the heat of day,
7She took me on her lap and kissed me,
8And pointing to the east began to say.
9Look on the rising sun: there God does live
10And gives his light, and gives his heat away.
11And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
12Comfort in morning joy in the noonday.
13And we are put on earth a little space,
14That we may learn to bear the beams of love,
15And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face
16Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
17For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear
18The cloud will vanish we shall hear his voice.
19Saying: come out from the grove my love & care,
20And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.
21Thus did my mother say and kissed me,
22And thus I say to little English boy.
23When I from black and he from white cloud free,
24And round the tent of God like lambs we joy:
25I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear,
26To lean in joy upon our fathers knee.
27And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
28And be like him and he will then love me.
1My mother bore me in the southern wild,
2And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
3White as an angel is the English child:
4But I am black as if bereav'd of light.
5My mother taught me underneath a tree
6And sitting down before the heat of day,
7She took me on her lap and kissed me,
8And pointing to the east began to say.
9Look on the rising sun: there God does live
10And gives his light, and gives his heat away.
11And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
12Comfort in morning joy in the noonday.
13And we are put on earth a little space,
14That we may learn to bear the beams of love,
15And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face
16Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
17For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear
18The cloud will vanish we shall hear his voice.
19Saying: come out from the grove my love & care,
20And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.
21Thus did my mother say and kissed me,
22And thus I say to little English boy.
23When I from black and he from white cloud free,
24And round the tent of God like lambs we joy:
25I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear,
26To lean in joy upon our fathers knee.
27And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
28And be like him and he will then love me.
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
White as an angel is the English child:
But I am black as if bereav'd of light.
My mother taught me underneath a tree
And sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say.
Look on the rising sun: there God does live
And gives his light, and gives his heat away.
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning joy in the noonday.
And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love,
And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear
The cloud will vanish we shall hear his voice.
Saying: come out from the grove my love & care,
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.
Thus did my mother say and kissed me,
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy:
I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear,
To lean in joy upon our fathers knee.
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him and he will then love me.
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
Blake's Illustrations — See the poem in its original format, with Blake's own visual depictions (plus other illustrations/engravings).
Blake's Radicalism — An excerpt from a documentary in which writer Iain Sinclair discusses Blake's radicalism.
Blake's Visions — An excerpt from a documentary in which writer Iain Sinclair discusses Blake's religious visions.
Blake and Stedman — Illustrations by Blake of a narrative written by John Stedman, a colonial soldier.
The Transatlantic Slave Trade — A valuable resource about the history of slavery.