The poem
I heard an Angel singing When the day was springing, 'Mercy, Pity, Peace Is the world's release.'
Thus he sung all day Over the new mown hay, Till the sun went down And haycocks looked brown.
I heard a Devil curse Over the heath and the furze, 'Mercy could be no more, If there was nobody poor,
And pity no more could be, If all were as happy as we.' At his curse the sun went down, And the heavens gave a frown.
Down pour'd the heavy rain Over the new reap'd grain ... And Miseries' increase Is Mercy, Pity, Peace.
It seems to anticipate the coming problem of class struggle, the problem posed by Christian Idealism and Social Utopianism. Doesn't the Devil's comment ring true? Is it something for Heaven to frown upon, and rain upon for one to suggest a little equity for the poor? If misery is increased by Pity et al, isn't this angel the spirit of sanctimony without action? Yet haven't our utopian plans been social disasters? What does Blake want? Probably to cast the social problem of need as a battle between complex spiritual forces. Are these forces more complex than we or even the poet can understand?