Success Quote by William Blake

Blake turns a tree into a kind of public sanctuary, then quietly suggests it may be the last honest one left. "Travelers" aren’t tourists; they’re the worn, wayfaring figures of Blake’s England, moving through a landscape being rapidly reorganized by industry, enclosure, and profit. To say they "repose and dream" among his "leaves" is to imagine nature as both shelter and mental refuge: the body rests, the mind slips its leash.

The line works because it compresses two Blakes at once. There’s the visionary who treats the natural world as an entrance to the imagination, where dreaming isn’t escapism but a mode of perception. Then there’s the social critic who knows how little space the poor and uprooted are afforded to rest. A tree offering rest feels tender, even democratic: no gatekeepers, no fees, no moral accounting. The possessive "my" complicates that tenderness. It’s not just any tree; it’s a speaking presence, almost a character, implying that the nonhuman world has agency and a claim on our attention. In Blake’s cosmos, that’s not whimsical; it’s theological. Creation is alive with meaning, and the imagination is the organ that can still read it.

Subtextually, the travelers’ dreams are a soft rebellion. They pause inside "leaves" - a word that also nods toward pages - and the poem hints that nature, like art, gives people a place to imagine a different order than the one they’re trudging through.