Prophetic Books (Tiriel, Thel, Visions of the Daughters of Albion, America, Europe, Urizen, Song of Los, Ahania, Los, The Four Zoas selections)

And agfed Tiriel stood before the gates of his beautiful palace With Myratana, once the Queen of all the western plains ; But now his eyes were darkened, and his wife fading in death. They stood before their once delightful palace ; and thus the voice Of agfed Tiriel arose, that his sons might hear in their gates ; — 5 ‘ Accursed race of Tiriel ! behold your father ; Come forth and look on her that bore you ! Come, you accursed sons! In my weak arms I here have borne your dying mother. Come forth, sons of the Curse, come forth! see the death of Myratana ! ’ His sons ran from their gates, and saw their agfed parents stand ; And thus the eldest son of Tiriel raised his mighty voice : — u * Old man ! unworthy to be caird the father of TirieFs race ! For every one of those thy wrinkles, each of those grey hairs Are cruel as death, and as obdurate as the devouring pit ! Why should thy sons care for thy curses, thou accursed man ? 15 Were we not slaves till we rebeird ? Who cares for Tiriel’s curse ? His blessing was a cruel curse ; his curse may be a blessing.*

He ceas’d : the agfed man rais’d up his right hand to the heavens, His left supported Myratana, shrinking in pangs of death : I Followed in the MS. by a del. halMine : But dark were his once piercing eyes . . . 225 The orbs of his large eyes he open’d, and thus his voice went forth : — 20 * Serpents, not sons, wreathing around the bones oMTiriel I Ye worms of death, feasting upon your agfed parent’s flesh ! Listen ! and hear your mother’s groans ! No more accursed sons She bears ; she groans not at the birth of Heuxos or Yuva. These are the groans of death, ye serpents I these are the groans of death ! 25 Nourish’d with milk, ye serpents, nourish’d with mother’s tears and cares ! Look at my eyes, blind as the orbless skull among the stones ! Look at my bald head ! Hark ! listen, ye serpents, listen ! . . . What, Myratana ! What, my wife 1 O Soul! O Spirit I O Fire ! What, Myratana ! art thou dead ? Look here, ye serpents, look ! The serpents sprung from her own bowels have drain’d her dry as this. 31

Curse on your ruthless heads, for I will bury her even here ! ’ So saying, he began to dig a grave with his aged hands ; But Heuxos call’d a son of Zazel to dig their mother a grave. ^ Old Cruelty, desist ! and let us dig a grave for thee. 35 Thou hast refus’d our charity, thou hast refus’d our food. Thou hast refus’d our clothes, our beds, our houses for thy dwelling. Choosing to wander like a son of Zazel in the rocks. Why dost thou curse? Is not the curse now come upon your head ? 39 Was it not you enslav’d the sons of Zazel ? And they have curs’d. And now you feel it. Dig a grave, and let us bury our mother.’ ‘ There, take the body, cursed sons ! and may the heavens rain wrath As thick as northern fogs, around your gates, to choke you up ! That you may lie as now your mother lies, like dogs cast out. Till your white bones are bleach’d with age for a memorial. No ! your remembrance shall pa-ish ; for, when your carcases ' Lie stinking on the earth, the buriers shall arise from the East, And not a bone of all the sons of Tiriel remain.

Bury your mother ! but you cannot bury the curse of Tiriel.’ 50 He ceas’d, and darkling o’er the mountains sought his pathless way. He wander’d day and night: to him both day and night were dark. The sun he felt, but the bright moon was now a useless globe : O’er mountains and thro’ vales of woe the blind and ag^d man And Har and Heva, like two children, sat beneath the oak : Mnetha, now aged, waited on them, and brought them food and clothing ; But they were as the shadow of Har, and as the years forgotten. Playing with flowers and running after birds they spent the day, And in the night like infants slept, delighted with infant dreams. Soon as the blind wanderer enter’d the pleasant gardens of Har, They ran weeping, like frighted infants, for refuge in Mnetha’s arms. 62 The blind man felt his way, and cried: ‘Peace to these open doors ! I^t no one fear, for poor blind Tiriel hurts none but himself. Tell me, O friends, where am I now, and in what pleasant place ? ’ ‘This is the valley of Har,’ said Mnetha, ‘and this the tent of Har. 66

Who art thou, poor blind man, that takest the name of Tiriel on thee? Tiriel is King of all the West. Who art thou ? I am Mnetha ; And this is Har and Heva, trembling like infants by my side.’ * I know Tiriel is King of the West, and there he lives in joy. 70 No matter who I am, O Mnetha ! If thou hast any food. Give it me ; for I cannot stay ; my journey is far from hence/ Then Har said : ‘ O my mother Mnetha, venture not so near him ; He wanders without eyes, and passes thro’ thick walls and doors. Thou shalt not smite my mother Mnetha, O thou eyeless man ! ’ ' A wanderer, I beg for food : you see I cannot weep : I cast away my staff, the kind companion of my travel. And I kneel down that you may see I am a harmless man.’ He kneelM down. And Mnetha said : ‘ Come, Har and Heva, rise ! 80 He is an innocent old man, and hungry with his travel.’ Then Har arose, and laid his hand upon old Tiriel’s head. ^ God bless thy poor bald pate ! God bless thy hollow winking eyes !

God bless thy shrivelfd beard! God bless thy many-wrinkled forehead ! Thou hast no teeth, old man ! and thus I kiss thy sleek bald head. 85 Heva, come kiss his bald head, for he will not hurt us, Heva. Then Heva came, and took old Tiriel in her mother’s arms. * Bless thy poor eyes, old man, and bless the old father of Tiriel ! Thou art my Tiriel’s old father ; I know thee thro’ thy wTinkles, Because thou smellest like the fig-tree, thou smellest like ripe 76 Followed by a del. line : O venerable, O most piteous, O most woeful day ! 78 Followed by a del. line : But I can kneel down at your door, I am a harmless man. How didst thou lose thy eyes, *old Tiriel? Bless thy wrinkled face!' 91 Mnctha said : * Come in, agM wanderer ! tell us of thy flame. Why shouldest thou conceal thyself from those of thine own flesh?' * I am not of this region,' said Tiriel dissemblingly. * I am an aged wanderer, once father of a race 95 Far in the North ; but they were wicked, and were all destroy'd, And I their father sent an outcast. I have told you all.

Ask me no more, I pray, for grief hath seal'd my precious sight.* ‘ O Lord ! ' said Mnetha, ‘ how I tremble ! Are there then more people. More human creatures on this earth, beside the sons of Har ? ' ‘ No more,' said Tiriel, ‘ but I, remain on all this globe ; loi And I remain an outcast. Hast thou anything to drink ? ' Then Mnetha gave him milk and fruits, and they sat down together. They sat and ate, and Har and Heva smil’d on Tiriel. * Thou art a very old old man, but I am older than thou. 105 How came thine hair to leave thy forehead ? how came thy face so brown ? My hair is very long, my beard doth cover all my breast. 91 Followed by two del. lines : ' The aged Tiriel could not speak, his heart was full of grief ; He strove against his rising passions, but still he could not speak. 94 Followed by a del. line : Fearing to tell them who he was, because of the weakness of Har. 229 God bless thy piteous face 1 To^count the wrinkles in thy face Would puzzle Mnetha. Bless thy face ! for thou art Tiriel.*

‘ Tiriel I never saw but once : I sat with him and ate ; no He was as cheerful as a prince, and gave me entertainment ; But long I stay’d not at his palace, for I am forc’d to wander.’ ‘ What ! wilt thou leave us too ? * said Heva : ‘ thou shall not leave us too. For we have many sports to show thee, and many songs to sing ; And thou shall help us to catch birds, and gather them ripe cherries. Then let thy name be Tiriel, and never leave us more.’ ‘ If thou dost go,’ said Har, * I wish thine eyes may see thy folly. My sons have left me; did thine leave thee? O, ’twas very cruel!’ * No 1 venerable man,’ said Tiriel, ‘ ask me not such things, 1 20 For thou dost make my heart to bleed : my sons were not like thine. But worse. O never ask me more, or 1 must flee away ! ' Thou shall not go,’ said Heva, ^ till thou hast seen our singingbirds, And heard Har sing in the great cage, and slept upon our fleeces. Go not 1 for thou art so like Tiriel that I love thine head, 125 Tho’ it is wrinkled like the earth parch’d with the summer heat.’

Then Tiriel rose up from the scat, and said: ^God bless these tents! My journey is o’er rocks and mountains, not in pleasant vales : I must not sleep nor rest, because of madness and dismay.’ 109 Followed by two del. lines : Tiriel could scarce dissemble more, and his tongue could scarce refrain, But still he fear’d that Har and Heva would die of joy and grief. God bless my benefactors, for I cannot tarry longer. 129 Followed by a del. line : Then Mnetha led him to the door and gave to him his staff. And Mnetha said : ‘Thou musttiot go to wander dark, alone ] 130 But dwell with us, and let us be to thee instead of eyes, And I will bring thee food, old man, till death shall call thee hence.' Then Tiriel frown'd, and answer'd: ‘Did I not command you, saying, “ Madness and deep dismay possess the heart of the blind man. The wanderer who seeks the woods, leaning upon his staff?'" 135 Then Mnetha, trembling at his frowns, led him to the tent door, And gave to him his staff, and blcss'd him. He went on his way. But Har and Ileva stood and watch'd him till he enter’d the wood ; And then they went and wept to Mnetha ; but they soon forgot their tears.

To him the day and night alike was dark and desolate ; But far he had not gone when Ijim from his woods came down. Met him at entrance of the forest, in a dark and lonely way. ‘Who art thou, eyeless wretch, that thus obstruct'st the lion's path ? Thou hast the form of Tiriel, but I know thee well enough. Stand from my path, foul fiend ! Is this the last of thy deceits. To be a hypocrite, and stand in shape of a blind beggar ? * The blind man heard his brother's voice, and kneel’d down on his knee. ‘ O brother Ijim, if it is thy voice that speaks to me, 150 Smite not thy brother Tiriel, tho' weary of his life. My sons have smitten me already ; and, if thou smitest me. The curse that rolls over their heads will rest itself on thine. 'Tis now seven years since in my palace I beheld thy face.' 154 Followed by a del. line : Seven years of sorrow ; then the curse of Zazel . • • ‘Come, thou dark fiend, I dare»thy cunning! know that Ijim scorns 155 To smite thee in the form of helpless age and eyeless policy.

Rise up I {or I discern thee, and I dare thy eloquent tongue. Come ! I will lead thee on thy way, and use thee as a scoff.* * O brother Ijim, thou beholdest wretched Tiriel : Kiss me, my brother, and then leave me to wander desolate ! * i6o * No ! artful fiend, but I will lead thee ; dost thou want to go ? Reply not, lest I bind thee with the green flags of the brook. Aye ! now thou art discover’d, I will use thee like a slave.* When Tiriel heard the words of Ijim, he sought not to reply : He knew *twas vain, for Ijim*s words were as the voice of Fate. And they went on together, over hills, thro* woody dales, 366 Blind to the pleasures of the sight, and deaf to warbling birds : All day they walk’d, and all the night beneath the pleasant moon, Westwardly journeying, till Tiriel grew weary with his travel. ‘ O Ijim, I am faint and weary, for my knees forbid 1 70 To bear me further ; urge me not, lest I should die with travel. A little rest I crave, a little water from a brook,

Or I shall soon discover that I am a mortal man, And you will lose your once-lov’d Tiriel. Alas I how faint I am ! * ‘ Impudent fiend ! * said Ijim, ‘ hold thy glib and eloquent tongue ! Drink of this running brook, and I will bear thee on my shoulders.* He drank ; and Ijim rais’d him up, and bore him on his shoulders : All day he bore him ; and, when evening drew her solemn curtain. Enter’d the gates of Tiriel’s palace, and stood and call’d aloud : — ‘ Heuxos, come forth ! I here have brought the fiend that troubles Ijim. 181 Look ! know’st thou aught of this grey beard, or of these blinded eyes ? * Heuxos and Lotho ran forth at \he sound of Ijim’s voice, And saw their aged father borne upon his mighty shoulders. Their eloquent tongues were dumb, and sweat stood on their trembling limbs : ' 1 85 They knew *twas vain to strive with Ijim. They bow’d and silent stood. * What, Heuxos ! call thy father, for I mean to sport to night. This is the hypocrite that sometimes roars a dreadful lion ;

Then I have rent his limbs, and left him rotting in the forest But like a tiger he would come : and so I rent him too. Then like a river he would seek to drown me in his waves ; But soon I buffeted the torrent : anon like to a cloud Fraught with the swords of lightning ; but I brav’d the vengeance too. Then he would creep like a bright serpent ; till around my neck. While I was sleeping, he would twine : I squeez’d his poisonous soul. 1 96 Then like a toad, or like a newt, would whisper in my ears ; Or like a rock stood in my way, or like a poisonous shrub. And so I’ll keep him ! Fetch your father, fetch forth Myratana ! ’ They stood confounded, and thus Tiriel rais’d his silver voice : — * Serpents, not sons, why do you stand ? Fetch hither Tiriel ! Fetch hither Myratana ! and delight yourselves with scoffs ; For poor blind Tiriel is return’d, and this much-injur’d head Is ready for your bitter taunts. Come forth, sons of the Curse ! ’ Confounded at the terrible strength of Ijim : they knew ’twas vain.

Both spear and shield were useless, and the coat of iron mail, When Ijim stretched his mighty arm ; the arrow from his limbs ‘ Then is it true, Heuxos, that thou hast turned thy aged parent To be the sport of wintry winds ? * said Ijim, ‘ is this true ? It is a lie, and I am like the tree torn by the wind. Thou eyeless fiend, and you dissemblers ! Is this TirieFs house ? It is as false as Matha, and as dark as vacant Orcus. " 215 Escape, ye fiends ! for Ijim will not lift his hand against ye.* So saying, Ijim gloomy turn’d his back, and silent sought The secret forests, and all night wander’d in desolate ways. And agM Tiriel stood and said : ‘ Where Where doth he hide his terrible head ? daughters. Where do they shroud their fiery wings, hair ? Earth, thus I stamp thy bosom ! Rouse den. To raise his dark and burning visage thro* the cleaving ground, To thrust these towers with his shoulders ! Let his fiery dogs Rise from the centre, belching flames and roarings, dark smoke! 225 AVhere art thou. Pestilence, that bathest in fogs and standing lakes ?

210 Followed by the del. lines : Then Ijim said : ^Lotho, Clithyma, Makuth, fetch your father! Why do you stand confounded thus? Heuxos, why art thou silent?’ * O noble Ijim, thou hast brought our father to our eyes. That we may tremble and repent before thy mighty knees. O I wc are but the slaves of Fortune, and that most cruel man Desires our deaths, O Ijim ! . . . ... if the eloquent voice of Tiriel Hath work’d our ruin, we submit nor strive against stern fate.’ He spoke, kneel’d upon his knee. Then Ijim on the pavement Set aged Tiriel in deep thought whether these things were so. does the thunder sleep ? And his swift and fiery 220 and the terrors of their the earthquake from his Rise up thy sluggish limbs, an(f let the loathsomest of poisons Drop from thy garments as thou walkest, wrapp’d in yellow clouds ! Here take thy seat in this wide court ; let it be strewn with dead ; And sit and smile upon these cursM sons of Tiriel ! * 230 Thunder, and fire, and pestilence, hear you not Tiriel’s curse?* He ceas’d. The heavy clouds confus’d roll’d round the lofty towers.

Discharging their enormous voices at the father’s curse. The earth trembled ; fires bel'ihed from the yawning clefts ; And when the shaking ceas’d, a fog possess’d the accursed clime. The cry was great in Tiriel’s palace : his five daughters ran, 236 And caught him by the garments, weeping with cries of bitter woe. ‘Aye, now you feel the curse, you cry ! but may all cars be deaf As Tiriel’s, and all eyes as blind as Tiricl’s to your woes ! May never stars shine on your roofs ! may never sun nor moon 240 Visit you, but eternal fogs hover around your walls ! Hela, my youngest daughter, you shall lead me from this place ; And let the curse fall on the rest, and wrap them up together I ’ He ceas’d : and Hela led her father from the noisome place. In haste they fled \ while all the sons and daughters of Tiriel, 245 Chain’d in thick darkness, uttered cries of mourning all the night. And in the morning, lo ! an hundred men in ghastly death ! The four daughters, stretch’d on the marble pavement, silent all, Fall’n by the pestilence ! — the rest mop’d round in guilty fears ;

Thirty of Tiiiel’s sons remain’d, to wither in the palace, Desolate, loathed, dumb, astonish’d — waiting for black death. And Hela led her father thro’ the silence of the night. Astonish’d, silent, till the morning beams began to spring. * Now, Hela, I can go with pleasure, and dwell with Har and Heva, This is the right and ready way ; 1 know it by the sound That our feet make. Remember, Hela, I have saved thee from death ; Then be obedient to thy father, for the curse is taken off thee. And all that time we waited for the fire to fall from heaven, Or for the torrents of the sea to overwhelm you all. But now my wife is dead, and all the time of grace is past : You see the parent’s curse. Now lead me where I have commanded.’ ‘O leagued with evil spirits, thou accursed man of sin ! 265 True, I w'as born thy slave 1 AVho ask'd thee to save me from death ? •'Twas for thyself, thou cruel man, because thou wantest eyes.’ ‘ True, Hela, this is the desert of all those cruel ones. Is Tiriel cruel ? Look ! his daughter, and his youngest daughter,

I have not ate these two days. Lead me to liar and Heva’s tent, Or I will wrap thee up in sucli a terrible father’s curse That thou shalt feel >vorms in thy marrow creeping thro’ thy bones. Yet thou shalt lead me ! Lead me, I command, to Har and Heva ! ’ ‘O cruel! O destroyer! O consumer! O avenger! 275 To Har and Heva I wall lead thee : then would that they would curse I Then would they curse as thou hast cursed ! But they are not like thee ! O ! they are holy and forgiving, fill’d wath loving mercy, Forgetting the offences of their most rebellious children. Or else thou wouldest not have liv’d to curse thy helpless children.’ ‘Look on my eyes, Hela, and sec, for thou hast eyes to see, 281 The tears swell from my stony fountains. Wherefore do I weep ? Wherefore from my blind orbs*art thou not seiz’d with poisonous stings ? Laugh, serpent, youngest venomous reptile of the flesh of Tiriel ^ Laugh ! for thy father Tiriel shall give thee cause to laagh, 2F5 Unless thou lead me to the tent of Har, child of the Curse ! ’

‘ Silence thy evil tongue, thou murderer of thy helpless children ! I lead thee to the tent of Har ; not that I mind thy curse, But that I feel they will curse* thee, and hang upon thy bones Plant worms of death to feast upon the tongue of terrible curses.’ ‘ Hela, my daughter, listen ! thou art the daughter of Tiriel. Thy father calls. Thy father lifts his hand unto the heavens, For thou hast laughed at my tears, and curs’d thy agbd father. Let snakes rise from thy bedded locks, and laugh among thy curls ! ’ 295 He ceas’d. Her dark hair upright stood, while snakes infolded round Her madding brows : her shrieks appall’d the soul of Tiriel. ‘ What have I done, Hela, my daughter ? Fear’st thou now the curse, Or w’hcrefore dost thou cry? Ah, wretch, to curse thy aged father ! I.ead me to Har and Heva, and the curse of Tiriel .:oo Shall fail. If thou refuse, howl in the desolate mountains ! ’ She, howling, led him over mountains and thro’ frighted vales. Till to the caves of Zazel they approach’d at eventide. Forth from their caves old Zazel and his sons ran, when they saw Their tyrant prince blind, and his daughter howling and leading him. 305

They laugh’d and mockM ; some threw dirt and stones as they pass’d by ; But when Tiriel turn’d around and rais’d his awful voice, Some fled away \ but Zazel stood still, and thus begun : — ‘ Bald tyrant, wrinkled cunning, listen to Zazel’s chains ! ’Twas thou that chained thy brother Zazel ! Where are now thine eyes? 310 Shout, beautiful daughter of Tiriel ! thou singest a sweet song ! Where are you going? Come and eat some roots, and drink some water. Thy crown is bald, old man ; the sun will dry thy brains away, And thou wilt be as foolish as thy foolish brother Zazel.* The blind man heard, and smote his breast, and trembling passM on. 315 Tliey threw dirt after them, till to the covert of a wood The howling maiden led her father, where wild beasts resort. Hoping to end her woes ; but from her cries the tigers fled. All night they wander’d thro’ the wood; and when the sun arose, They enter’d on the mountains of Har : at noon the happy tents But Har and Heva slept fearless as babes on loving breasts. Mnetha awoke : she ran and stood at the tent door, and saw 'riie agfed wanderer led towards the tents ; she took her bow,

And Mnetha hasted, and met them at tl^ gate of the lower garden. ‘ Stand still, or from my bow receive a sharp and wingfed death ! ’ Then Tiriel stood, saying : ‘ What soft voice threatens such bitter things ? Lead me to Har and Heva ; I am Tiriel, King of the West.^ And Mnetha led them to the" tent of liar; and Har and Heva Ran to the door. Wlien Tiriel felt the ankles of ag&d Har, 331 He said : ‘ O weak mistaken father of a lawless race. Thy laws, O Har, and Tiriel’s wisdom, end together in a curse. Why is one law given to the Ron and the patient ox ? A worm of sixty winters creeping on the dusky ground ? 'rhe child springs from the womb; the father ready stands to form The infant head, while the mother idle plays with her dog on her couch : The young bosom is cold for lack of mother’s nourishment, and milk The little Jids are lifted, and the little nostrils open’d ; The father forms a whip to rouse the sluggish senses to act, And scourges off all youthful fancies from the new-born man. I’hen walks the weak infant in sorrow, compell’d to number footsteps

Upon the sand. And when the drone has reach’d his crawling length, 345 333 Followed by a del. half-line : Thy God of Love, thy Heaven of Joy . . . 334 Followed by the del. lines : Dost thou not sec that men cannot be formed all alike, Some nostrird wide, breathing out blood ; some close shut up In silent deceit, poisons inhaling from the morning rose, With daggers hid beneath their lips and poison in their tongue ) Or eyed with little sparks of Hell, or with infernal brands, Flinging flames of discontent and plagues of dark despair ; Or those whose mouths arc graves, whose teeth the gates of eternal death. Can wisdom be put in a silver rod, or love in a golden bowl ? Is the sun a king, warmed without wool? or does he cry with a voice Of thunder ? Does he look upon the sun, and laugh or stretch His little hands unto the depths of the sea, to bring forth The deadly cunning of the scaly tribe, and spread it to the morning? Black berries appear that poison all ^und him. Such was Tiriel, Compeird to pray repugnant, and to humble the immortal spirit ; Till I am subtil as a serpent in a paradise,

Consuming all, both flowers and fruits, insects and warbling birds. Returns, my thirsty hissings in a curse on thee, O Har, Mistaken father of a lawless race ! — My voice is past.’ He ceas’d, outstretch’d at Har and Heva’s feet in awful death. 346 Followed by a del. line : Hypocrisy, the idiot’s wisdom, and the wise man's folly. The Book of Thel So weak, the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head. Yet I am visited from heaven, and He that smiles on all Walks in the valley, and each morn over me spreads His hand, Saying, “ Rejoice, thou humble grass, thou new-born lily-flower, 25 Thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks ; For thou shalt be clothed in light, and fed with morning manna, 'rill summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs, 'Fo flourish in eternal vales.” Then why should Thel complain ? Why should the mistress of the valefs of Har utter a sigh?' 2^ She ceas'd, and smil’d in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine. Thel answer’d : ‘ O thou little Virgin of the peaceful valley. Giving to those that cannot crave, the voiceless, the o'ertired ; Thy breath doth nourish the innocent lamb, he smells thy milky garments.

He crops thy flowers while thou sittest smiling in his face, Wiping his mild and meeking mouth from all contagious taints. Thy wine doth purify the golden honey ; tliy perfume, AVhich thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs. Revives the milked cow, and tames the fire-breathing steed. Rut Thel is like a faint cloud kindled at tlie rising sun : 40 I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place ? ' ‘ Queen of the vales,' the Lily answer'd, ‘ ask the tender Cloud, And it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky. And why it scatters its bright beauty thro' the humid air. Descend, O little Cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel.* 45 The Cloud descended, and the Lily bowM her modest head. And went to mind her numerous charge among the verdant grass. ‘ O little Cloud,' the Virgin said, ‘ I charge thee tell to me Why thou complainest not, when in one hour thou fade away : 'Fhen we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah ! Thel is like to thee : I pass away : yet I complain, and no one hearj my voice.* 51

The Book of Thel The Cloud then showed his golden head and his bright form emerged, Hovering and glittering on the air before the face of Thel. ‘ O Virgin, know^st thOu not our steeds drink of the goltien springs Where Luvah doth renew his horses? Look\st thou on my youth, 55 And fearest thou, because I vanish and*am seen no more. Nothing remains ? O Maid, I tell thee, when I pass away. It is to tenfold life, to love, to peace, and raptures holy : Unseen descending, weigh my light wings upon balmy flowers. And court the fair-eyed dew^, to take me to her shining tent ; 60 The weeping virgin, trembling, kneels before the risen sun, Till we arise link’d in a golden band and never part, But walk united, bearing food to all our tender flowers.’ ‘ Dost thou, O little Cloud ? I fear that I am not like thee, For I walk thro’ the vales of Har, and smell the sweetest flowers. But I feed not the warbling birds ; they fly and seek their food : But Thel delights in these no more, because I fade away ; And all shall say, “ Without a use this shining woman liv’d,

Or did she only live to be at death the food of worms ? ” ’ 70 The Cloud reclin’d upon his airy throne, and answer’d thus : — ‘Then if thou art the food of worms, O Virgin of the skies. How great thy use, how' great thy blessing ! Iwerything that lives Lives not alone nor for itself. Fear not, and 1 will call The weak Worm from its lowly bed, and thou shalt hear its voice. The helpless Worm arose, and sat upon the Ivily’s leaf. And the bright Cloud sail’d on, to find his partner in the vale. Then Thel astonish’d view’d the Worm upon its dewy bed. ‘ Art thou a Worm ? Image of weakness, art thou but a Worm ? The Book of Thel Ah I weep not, little voice, thou canst not speak, but thou canst weep. Is this a Worm ? I see thee lay helpless and naked, weeping. And none -to answer, none to cherish thee with mother’s smiles.’ The Clod of Clay heard the Worm’s voice and rais’d her pitying head : 85 She bow’d over the weeping infant, and her life exhal’d In milky fondness : then on Thel she fix’d her humble eyes.

‘ O Beauty of the vales of Har ! we live not for ourselves. Thou seest me, the meanest thing, and so I am indeed. But He, that loves the lowly, pours His oil upon my head, And kisses me, and binds His nuptial bands around my breast, And says ; “ Thou mother of my children, I have lovtd thee, And I have given thee a crown that none can take away.” I ponder, and I cannot ponder ; yet I live and love.’ The Daughter of Beauty wip'd her pitying tears with her white veil. And said : ‘ Alas ! I knew not this, and therefore did I weep. That God would love a worm I knew, and punish the evil foot With milk and oil I never knew, and therefore did I weep \ And I complain’d in the mild air, because I fade away, And lay me down in thy cold bed, and leave my shining lot.’ ‘ Queen of the vales,’ the matron Clay answer’d, ‘ I heard thy sigh.s. And all thy moans flew o’er my roof, but I have call’d them down. Wilt thou, O Queen, enter my house? ’Tis given thee to enter 106 And to return : fear nothing, enter with thy virgin feet.’

The eternal gates’ terrific Porter lifted the northern bar : Thel enter’d in and saw the secrets of the land unknown. She saw the couches of the dead, and where the fibrous roots no The Book of Thel Of every heart on earth infixes tieep its restless twists : A land of sorrows and of tears where never smile was seen. She wander’d in the land of clouds thro’ valleys dark, list’ning Dolours and lamentations ; waiting oft beside a dewy grave Till to her own grave-plot she came, and there she sat down, And heard this voice of sorrow breathed from the hollow pit. * Why cannot the Ear be closed to its own destruction ? Or the glist’ning Eye to the poison of a smile ? Where a thousand fighting men in ambush lie. Or an Eye of gifts and graces show’ring fruits and coined gold ? Why a Tongue impress’d with honey from every wind ? Why an Ear, a whirlpool fierce to draw creations in ? Why a Nostril wide inhaling terror, trembling, and affright ? 125 Why a tender curb upon the youthful, burning boy ? Why a little curtain of flesh on the bed of our desire ? ’

The Virgin started from her seat, and with a shriek Fled back unhinder’d till she came into the vales of Har. Rintrah roars, and shakes his fires in the burden’d air; Hungry clouds swag on the deep. Once meek, and in a pj^rilous path. The just man kept his course along Roses are planted where thorns grow, And on the barren heath Sing the honey bees. Then the perilous path was planted, On every cliff and tomb, And on the blcachbd bones Red clay brought forth ; Till the villain left the paths of case, The just man into barren climes. Now the sneaking serpent walks In mild humility, And the just man rages in the wilds Rintrah roars, and shakes his fires in the burden’d air ; Hungry clouds swag on the deep. As a new heaven is begun, arid it is now thirty-three years since its advent, the Eternal Hell revives. And lo I Swedenborg is the Angel sitting at the tomb : his writings are the linen clothes folded up.* Now is the dominion of Edom, and the return of Adam into Paradise. See Isaiah xxxiv and xxxv chap. Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence.

From these contraries spring wha»t the religious call Good and Evil. Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy. Good is Heaven. Evil is Hell. The Voice of the Devil All Bibles or sacred codes have been the causes of the following Errors : — 1. That Man has two real existing principles, viz. a Body and a Soul. 2. That Energy, call’d Evil, is alone from the Body ; and that Reason, call’d Good, is alone from the Soul. 3. That God will torment Man in Eternity for following his Energies. But the following Contraries to these are True : — 1. Man has no Body distinct from his Soul; for that call’d Body is a portion of Soul discern’d by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age. 2. Energy is the only life, and is from the Body ; and Reason is the bound or outward circumference of Energy. 3. Energy is Eternal Delight. Those who restrain Desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained ; and the restrainer or Reason usurps its place and governs the unwilling. of Heaven and Hell And being restrained, it by degrees becomes passive, till it is only the shadow of Desire.

Theihistory of this is written in Paradise Lost, and the Governor or Reason is caird Messiah. • And the original Archangel, or possessor of the command of the Heavenly Host, is call’d the Devil or Satan, and his children are call’d Sin and Death. But in the Book of Job, Milton’s Messiah is called Satan. For this history has been adopted by both parties. It indeed appear’d to Reason as if Desire was cast out; but the Devil’s account is, that the Messiah fell, and formed a Heaven of what he stole from the Abyss. This is shown in the Gospel, where he prays to the leather to send the Comforter, or Desire, that Reason may have Ideas to build on; the Jehovah of the Bible being no other than he who dwells in flaming fire. Know that after Christ’s death, he became Jehovah. But in Milton, the Father is Destiny, the Son a Ratio of the five senses, and the Holy-ghost Vacuum ! Note, The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels and God, and at liberty when of Devils and Hell, is because he was a true Poet, and of the Devil’s party without knowing it.

As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius, which to Angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some of their Proverbs ; thinking that as the sayings used in a nation mark its character, so the Proverbs of Hell show the nature of Infernal wisdom better than any description of buildings or garments. When I came home, on the abyss of the five senses, where a flat-sided steep frowns over the present world, I saw a mighty Devil, folded in black clouds, hovering on the sides of the rock ; with corroding fires he wrote the following sentence now perceived by the minds of men, and read by them on earth How do you know but ev'ry Bird that cuts the airy Is an immense World of Delight^ c/odd by your senses five 1 In seed time, learn^ in harvest teach^ in ivinter enjoy. Drive your cart and your plough over the bones of the dead. The road of excess leads to the palace of redsdom. Prudence is a rich^ ugly old maid courted by Ituapacity, He who desires but acts not^ breeds pestilence. The cut worm forgives the plough. Dip him in the river who loves water,

A fool sees not the same tree that a tvise man sees. He whose face gives no lights shall n&oer become a star. Eternity is in love with the productions of time. The busy bee has no time for sorrow. The hours of folly are measured by the clock ; but of wisdom^ no clock can measure. All wholesome food is caught without a net or a trap. Bring out number^ weight, and measure in a year of dearth. No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings, A dead body revenges ?tot injuries. The most sublime act is to set another before you. If the fool would persist in his folly he would become ivise. Folly is the cloak of knavefy. Shame is Pridds cloak. Prisons are built with stones of Law, brothels with bricks of Religion, The pride of the peacock is the glory of God. The lust of the goat is the bounty of God. The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God. The nakedness of woman is the work of God, of Heaven and Hell Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps. The roaring of /ions, the howling of wolves^ the raging of the stormy sea, ahd the destructive sword are portions of eternity too great for the eye of 7nan. •

The fox cojidemns the trap, not himself foys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth. Let man wear the fell of the lion, woman the fleece of the sheep. The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship. The selfish, smiling fool, anchthe sullen, frowning fool shall be both thought wise, that they may be a rod. What is now proved 7vas once only imagirld. The rat, the mouse, the fox, the rabbit ivatch the roots ; the lion, the tiger, the horse, the elephant 7c>atch the fruits. The cistern contains : the foimtain overflows. One thought fills immensity. Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you. Everything possible to be believed is an image of truth. The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow. The fox provides for himself: but God provides for the lion. Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night. Be 7vho has suffef^d you to impose on him, hwivs you. As the plough follows words, so God reivards prayers. The tigers of ivrath are tviser than the hnrses of instruction. Expect poison from the standing water.

You never know what is enough unless you htmo what is more than enough. Listen to the foots reproach ! it is a kingly title / The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the mouth of 7vatcr, the beard of earth. The 7veak in courage is strong in mnning. The apple tree never asks the beech hoiv he shall grow ; nor the lion, the horse, how he shall take his prey. The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest. If others had not been foolish^ we should be so. The soul of sweet delight can never be defiVd, When thou seest an eagle^ thou seest a portion of Genius ; iift up thy head! ' As tlu caterpillar chooses the fairest leaves to lay her eggs on^ so the priest lays his curse on the fairest joys. To create a little flower is the labour of ages. Damn braces. Bless relaxes. The best wine is the oldest^ the best water the newest. Prayers plough not ! Praises reap not ! Joys laugh not I Sorroivs %veep not ! The head Sublime^ the heart Pathos^ the genitals Beauty^ the hands and feet Proportion. As the air to a bird or the sea to a Jish^ so is contempt to the contemptible.

The crow wisKd everything was blacky the owl that everything was white. If the lion was advised by the foXy he would bt cunning. Improvement makes straight roads ; but the crooked roads without improvement are roads of Genius. Sooner murder an mfant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires. Where man is noty nature is barren. Truth can never be told so as to be understood^ and not be believed. Enough 1 or Too much. The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged and numerous senses could perceive. And particularly they studied the Genius of each city and country, placing it under its Mental Deity ; Till a System was formed, which some took advantage of, and of Heaven and Hell enslav’d the vulgar by attemptirfg to realise or abstract the Mental Deities from their objects — thus began Priesthood ; Cheesing forms of worship from poetic tales. And at length they pronounc’d that the Gods had ouder’d such things. Thus men forgot that All Deities reside in the Human breast. The Prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel dined with me, and I asked them how they dared so roundly to assert that God spoke to them ; and whether they did not think at the time that they would be misunderstood, and so be the cause of imposition.

Isaiah answer’d : ‘ I saw no God, nor heard any, in a finite organical perception ; but my senses discover’d the infinite in everything, and as I was then persuaded, and remain confirm’d, that the voice of honest indignation is the voice of God, I cared not for consequences, but wrote.’ Then I asked : ‘ Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so ? ’ He replied : ‘ All Poets believe that it does, and in ages of imagination this firm persuasion removed mountains ; but many are not capable of a firm persuasion of anything.’ Then Ezekiel said ; ‘ The philosophy of the East taught the first principles of human perception. Some nations held one principle for the origin, and some another : we of Israel taught that the Poetic Genius (as you now call it) was the first principle and all the others merely derivative, which was the cause of our despising the Priests and Philosophers of other countries, and prophesying that all Gods would at last be proved to originate in ours and to be the tributaries of the Poetic Genius. It w'as this that our great poet, King David, desired so fervently and invokes so jiathetically, saying by this he conquers enemies and governs kingdoms ; and we so loved our God, that we cursed in his name all the Deities of surrounding nations, and asserted that they had rebelled. From

these opinions the vulgar came to* think that all nations would at last be subject to the Jews.* ‘ This/ said he, ‘ like all firm persuasions, is come to pass ; for all nations believe the Jews* code and worship the Jews* god, and what greater subjection can be ? * I heard this with some wonder, and must confess my own conviction. After dinner I ask’d Isaiah to favour the world with his lost works ; he said none of equal value was lost. Ezekiel said the same of his. I also asked Isaiah what made him go naked and barefoot three years. He answer’d : ‘ The same that made our friend Diogenes, the Grecian.* I then asked Ezekiel why he ate dung, and lay so long on his right and left side. He answer’d, ‘ The desire of raising other men into a perception of the infinite : this the North American tribes practise, and is he honest who resists his genius or conscience only for the sake of present ease or gratification ? * The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six thousand years is true, as I have heard from Hell.

For the cherub with his flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his guard at tree of life ; and when he does, the whole creation will be consumed and appear infinite and holy, whereas it now appears finite and corrupt. This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment. But first the notion that man has a body distinct from his soul is to be expunged; this I shall do by printing in the infernal method, by corrosives, which in Hell are salutary and medicinal, melting apparent surfaces away, and displaying the infinite which was hid. If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up till he sees all things thro* narrow chinks of his cavern. of Heaven and Hell I was in a Printing-house in Hell, and saw the method in which knowledge is transmitted from generation to generation# In the first chamber was a Dragon-Man, clearing away the rubbish from a cavers mouth ; within, a number of Dragons were hollowing the cave. In the second chamber was a Viper folding round the rock and the cave, and others adorning it with gold, silver, and precious stones.

In the third chamber was an Eagle w^ith wings and feathers of air : he caused the inside of the cave to be infinite. Around were numbers of Eagle-like men who built palaces in the immense cliffs. In the fourth chamber were Lions of flaming fire, raging around and melting the metals into living fluids. In the fifth chamber were Unnamed forms, which cast the metals into the expanse. There they were received by Men who occupied the sixth chamber, and took the forms of books and were arranged in libraries. The Giants who formed this world into its sensual existence, and now seem to live in it in chains, are in truth the causes of its life and the sources of all activity ; but the chains are the cunning of weak and tame minds which have power to resist energy. According to the proverb, the weak in courage is strong in cunning. Thus one portion of being is the Prolific, the other the Devouring. To the Devourer it seems as if the producer was in his chains ; but it is not 5b, he only takes portions of existence and fancies that the whole. But the Prolific would cease to be Prolific unless the Devourer, as a sea, received the excess of his delights.

Some will say : ‘ Is not God alone the Prolific ? I answer : ‘ God only Acts and Is, in existing beings or Men,* These two classes of men aie always upon earth, and they should be enemies: whoever tries to reconcile them seeks to destroy existence. Religion is an endeavour to reconcile the two. Note. Jesus Christ did not wish to unite, but to separate them, as in the Parable of sheep and goats I And He says : * I came not to send Peace, but a Sword.* Messiah or Satan or Tempter was formerly thought to be one of the Antediluvians who are our Energies. An Angel came to me and said: * O pitiable, foolish young man 1 O horrible ! O dreadful state 1 Consider the hot, burning dungeon thou art preparing for thyself to all Eternity, to which thou art going in such career.* I said : ‘ Perhaps you will be willing to show me my eternal lot, and we will contemplate together upon it, and see whether your lot or mine is most desirable.* So he took me thro’ a stable, and thro* a church, and down into the church vault, at the end of which was a mill. Thro* the mill we went, and came to a cave, Down the winding cavern we groped our tedious way, till a void boundless as a nether sky appeaPd beneath us, and we held by the roots of trees, and hung over this immensity. But I said : ‘If you please, w^e will commit ourselves to this void, and see whether Providence is here also. If you will not, I will.* But he answer’d: ‘ Do not presume, O young man, but as we here remain, behold thy lot which will soon appear when the darkness passes away.*

So I remain’d with him, sitting in the twisted root of an oak. He was suspended in a fungus, which hung with the head downward into the deep. By degrees we beheld the infinite Abyss, fiery as the smoke of a burning city \ beneath us, at an immense distance, was the sun, black but shining; round it were fiery tracks on which revolv’d of Heaven and Hell vast spiders, crawling after their prey, which flew, or rather swum, in the infinite deep, in the most terrific shapes of animals sprung from corruption ; and the air was full of them, and seem’d composed of them — these are Devils, and arc called Powers of thv* Air. I now asked my companion which w’as my eternal lot ? He said : ‘ Between the black and white spiders.’ But now, from between the black and white spiders, a cloud and fire burst and rolled thro’ the deep, blackening all beneath ; so that the nether deep grew, black as a sea, and rolled with a terrible noise. Beneath us was nothing now to be seen but a black tempest, till looking East between the clouds and the waves we saw a cataract of blood mixed with fire, and not many stones’ throw from us appear’d and sunk again the scaly fold of a monstrous serpent. At last, to the East, distant about three degrees, appear’d a fiery crest above the waves. Slowly it reared like a ridge of golden rocks, .till we discover’d two globes of crimson fire, from which the sea fled away in clouds of smoke ; and now we saw it was the head of Leviathan. His forehead was divided into streaks of green and purple like those on a tiger’s forehead. Soon we saw his mouth and red gills hang just above the raging foam, tinging the black deep with beams of blood, advancing toward us with all the fury of a Spiritual Existence.

My friend the Angel climb’d up from his station into the mill : I remain’d alone, and then this appearance was no more ; but I found myself sitting on a pleasant bank beside a river, by moonlight, hearing a harjKjr, who sung to the harp ; and his theme was : ‘ The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, and breeds reptiles of the mind.’ But I arose and sought for the mill, and there I found my Angel, who, surprised, asked me how I escaped. I answer’d ; ‘ All that we saw was owing to your metaphysics ; for when you ran away, I found myself on a bank by moonlight hearing a harper. But now we have seen my eternal lot, shall I show you yours ? ’ He laugh'd at my proposal ; but I, by force, suddenly caught him in my arms, and flew westerly thro* the night, till we were elevated above the earth’s shadow; then I flung myself with him directly into the body of the sun. Here I clothed myself in white, and taking in my hand Swedenborg’s volumes, sunk from the glorious clime, and passed all the planets till we came to Saturn. Here I stay’d to rest, and then leap’d into the void between Saturn and the fixed stars.

‘Here,’ said I, ‘is your lot, in , this space-* if space it may be call’d.’ Soon we saw the stable and the church, and I took him to the altar and open’d the Bible, and lo ! it was a deep pit, into which I descended, driving the Angel before me. Soon we saw seven houses of brick. One we enter’d ; in it were a number of monkeys, baboons, and all of that species, chain’d by the middle, grinning and snatching at one another, but withheld by the shortness of their chains. However, I saw that they sometimes grew numerous, and then the weak were caught by the strong, and with a grinning aspect, first coupled with, and then devour’d, by plucking off first one limb and then another, till the body w^as left a helpless trunk. This, after grinning and kissing it with seeming fondness, they devour’d too: and here and there I saw one savourily picking the flesh off of his own tail. As the stench terribly annoy’d us both, we went into the mill, and I in my hand brought the skeleton of a body, which in the mill was Aristotle’s Analytics. So the Angel said : ‘ Thy phantasy has imposed upon me, and thou oughtest to be ashamed.’

I answer’d : ‘ We impose on one another, and it is but lost time to converse with you whose works are only Analytics.* I have always found that Angels have the vanity to speak of themselves as the Only Wise. This they do with a confident insolence sprouting from systematic reasoning. of Heaven and Hell Thus Swedenborg boasts that what he writes is new ; tho’ it is only the Contents or Index of already publish’d books. A nikn carried a monkey about for a show, and because he was a little wiser than the monkey, grew vain, and concci^d himself as much wiser than seven men. It is so with Swedenborg : he shows the folly of churches, and exposes hypocrites, till he imagines that all are religious, and himself the single one on earth that ever broke a net. Now hear a plain fact : Swedenborg has not written one new truth. Now hear another : he has written all the old falsehoods. And now hear the reason. He conversed with Angels who are all religious, and conversed not with Devils who all hate religion, for he was incapable thro’ his conceited notions. Thus Swedenborg’s writings are a recapitulation of all superficial opinions, and an analysis of the more sublime — but no further.

Have now another plain fact. Any man of mechanical talents may, from the writings of Paracelsus or Jacob Behmen, produce ten thousand volumes of equal value with Swedenborg’s, and from those of Dante or Shakespear an infinite number. But when he has done this, let him not say that he knows better than his master, for he only holds a candle in sunshine. Once I saw a Devil in a flame of fire, who arose before an Angel that sat on a cloud, and the Devil utter’d these words : — ‘The worship of God is; Honouring his gifts in other men, each according to his genius, and loving the greatest men best : those who envy or calumniate great men hate God ; for there is no other God.’ The Angel hearing this, became almost blue ; but mastering himself he grew yellow, and at last white, pink, and smiling, and then replied ; — ‘ Thou Idolater ! is not God One ? and is not he visible in Jesus Christ? and has not Jesus Christ given his sanction to the law of The Marriage of Heaven and Hell ten commandments ? and are not all other men fools, sinners, and nothings ? '

The Devil answer’d : ‘Bray a fool in a mortar with wheat, yet shall not his folly be beaten out of him. If Jesus Christ is the greatest man, you ought to love Him in the greatest degree. Now hear how He has given His sanction to the law of ten commandments. Did He not mock at the sabbath, and so mock the sabbath’s God ; murder those who were murder’d because of Him ; turn away the law from the woman taken in adultery ; steal the labour of others to sui)port Him ; bear false witness when He omitted making a defence before Pilate ; covet when He pray’d for His disciples, and when He bid them shake off the dust of their feet against such as refused to lodge them ? I tell you, no virtue can exist without breaking these ten commandments. Jesus was all virtue, and acted from impulse, not from rules.’ 'When he had so spoken, I beheld the Angel, who stretched out his arms, embracing the flame of fire, and he was consumed, and arose as Elijah. Note , — This Angel, who is now become a Devil, is my particular friend. We often read the Bible together in its infernal or diabolical sense, which the world shall have if they behave well.

I have also The Bible of Hell, which the world shall have whether they will or no. One Law for the Lion and Ox is Oppression. PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, n'' 72, ST PAUL S CHURCH-YARDc The remaining Books of this Poem are finished, and will be published in their Order. BOOK THE FIRST (Printed 1791) The dead brood over Europe : the cloud and vision descends over cheerful France^ O cloud well appointed ! Sick, sick, the Prince on his couch ! wreath’d in dim And appalling mist; his strong hand outstretch’d, from his shoulder down the bone. Runs aching cold into the sceptre, too heavy for mortal grasp — no more To be swayfed by visible hand, nor in cruelty bruise the mild flourishing mountains. 5 Sick the mountains ! and all their vineyards weep, in the eyes of the kingly mourner ; Pale is the morning cloud in his visage. Rise, Necker! the ancient dawn calls us To awake from slumbers of five thousand years. I awake, but my soul is in dreams ; From my window I see the old mountains of France, like ag^d men, fading away. Troubled, leaning on Necker, descends the King to his chamber of council ; shady mountains 10

In fear utter voices of thunder ; the woods of France embosom the sound ; Clouds of wisdom prophetic reply, End roll over the palace roof heavy. Forty men, each conversing with woes in the infinite shadows of his soul, • Like our 'ancient fathers in regions of twilight, walk, gathering round the King : Again the loud voice of France cries to the morning ; the morning prophesies to its clouds. 15 For the Commons convene in the Hall of the Nation. France shakes ! And the heavens of France Perplex’d vibrate round each careful countenance ! Darkness of old times around them Utters loud despair, shadowing Paris ; her grey towers groan, and the Bastille trembles. In its terrible towers the Governor stood, in dark fogs listening the horror ; A thousand his soldiers, old veterans of France, breathing red clouds of power and dominion. 20 Sudden seiz’d with bowlings, despair, and black night, he stalk’d like a lion from tower To tower ; his bowlings w-ere heard in the Louvre ; from court to court restless he dragg’d His strong limbs ; from court to court curs’d the fierce torment unquell’d. Howling and giving the dark command ; in his soul stood the purple plague,

Tugging his iron manacles, and piercing thro’ the seven towers dark and sickly, 25 Panting over the prisoners like a wolf gorg’d. And the den nam’d Horror held a man Chain’d hand and foot j round his neck an iron band, bound to the impregnable wall ; In his soul was the serpent coil’d round in his heart, hid from the light, as in a cleft rock : And the man was confin’d for a writing prophetic. In the tower nam’d Darkness was a man Pinioned down to the stone floor, his strong bones scarce cover’d with sinews ; the iron rings 30 Were forg’d smaller as the flesh decay’d : a mask of iron on his face hid the lineaments • Of ancient Kings, and the frown of the eternal lion was hid from the oppressed earth. In the tower namM Bloody, a skeleton yellow remained in its chains on its couch Of stone, once a man who refus’d to sign papers of abhorrence ; the eternal worm Crept in the skeleton. In the den nam’d Religion, a loathsome sick woman bound down To a bed of straw; the seven diseases of earth, like birds of prey, stood on the couch

And fed on the body : she refus’d to be whore to the Minister, and with a knife smote him. In the tower nam’d Order, an old man, whose white beard cover’d the stone floor like weeds On margin of the sea, shrivell’d up by heat of day and cold of night ; his den was short And narrow as a grave dug for a child, with spiders’ webs wove, and with slime 40 Of ancient horrors cover’d, for snakes and scorpions are his companions ; harmless they breathe His sorrowful breath : he, by conscience urg’d, in the city of Paris rais’d a pulpit. And taught wonders to darken’d souls. In the den nam’d Destiny a strong man sat. His feet and hands cut off, and his eyes blinded ; round his middle a chain and a band Fasten’d into the wall ; fancy gave him to see an image of despair in his den, 45 Eternally rushing round, like a man on his hands and knees, day and night without rest : He was friend to the favourite. In the seventh tower, nam’d the tower of God, was a man Mad, with chains loose, which he dragged up and down ; fed with hopes year by year, he pined

For liberty. — Vain hopes! his reason decay’d, and the world of attraction in his boscm Centred, and the rushing of chaos overwhelm’d his dark soul: he was confin’d 50 For a letter of advice to a King, and his ravings in winds are heard over Versailles. But the dens shook and trembled: the prisoners look up and assay to shout ^ they listen. Then laugh in the dismal den, then are silent ; and a light w^alks round the dark towers. For the Commons convene in the Hall of the Nation ; like spirits of fire in the beautiful Porches of the Sun, to plant beauty in the desert craving abyss, they gleam 55 On the anxious city : all children new-born first behold them, tears are fled. And they nestle in earth-breathing bosoms. So the city of Paris, their wives and children. Look up to the morning Senate, and visions of sorrow leave pensive streets. But heavy-brow’d jealousies lour o’er the Louvre ; and terrors of ancient Kings Descend from the gloom and wander thro’ the palace, and weep round the King and his Nobles ; 60 While loud thunders roll, troubling the dead. Kings are sick throughout all the earth !

The voice ceas’d : the Nation sat ; and the triple forg’d fetters of times were unloos’d. The voice ceas’d: the Nation sat; but ancient darkness and trembling wander thro’ the palace. As in day of havoc and routed battle, among thick shades of discontent, On the soul-skirting mountains of sorrow cold waving, the Nobles fold round the King ; 65 Each Stern visage lock’d up as with strong bands of iron, each strong limb bound down as with marble. In flames of red wrath burning, bound in astonishment a quarter of an hour. Then the King glow’d : his Nobles fold round, like the sun of old time quench’d in clouds ; In their darkness the King stood ; his heart flam’d, and utter’d a with’ring heat, and these words burst forth : ‘ The nerves of five thousand years’ ancestry tremble, shaking the heavens of France ; 70 Throbs of anguish beat on brazen war foreheads ; they descend and look into their graves. I see thro’ darkness, thro’ clouds rolling round me, the spirits of ancient Kings Shivering over their bleached bones ; round them their counsellors look up from the dust, Crying : ** Hide from the living ! Our bonds and our prisoners shout in the open field.

Hide in the nether earth ! Hide in the bones ! Sit obscurt;d in the hollow scull ! 75 Our flesh is corrupted, and we wear away. We are not numbered among the living. Let us hide In stones, among roots of trees. The prisoners have burst their dens. Let us hide ! let us hide in the dust ! and plague and wrath and tempest shall cease.” He ceas’d, silent pond’ring \ his brows folded heavy, his forehead was in affliction. Like the central fire from the window he saw his vast armies spread over the hills, 80 Breathing red fires from man to man, and from horse to horse : then his bosom Expanded like starry heaven ; he sat down : his Nobles took their ancient seats. Then the*^ancientest Peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the Monarch’s right hand, red as wines From his mountains ; an odour of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments, And the chamber became as a clouded sky ; o’er the Council he stretch’d his red limbs , 85 Cloth’d in flames of crimson ; as a ripe vineyard stretches over sheaves of corn, The fierce Duke hung over the Council; around him crowd, weeping in his burning robe,

A bright cloud of infant souls : his words fall like purple autumn on the sheaves : * Shall this marble-built heaven become a clay cottage, this earth an oak stool, and these mowcTs From the Atlantic mountains mow down all this great starry harvest of six thousand years ? 90 And shall Necker, the hind of Geneva, stretch out his crook’d sickle o’er fertile France, Till our purple and crimson is faded to russet, and the kingdoms of earth bound in sheaves, And the ancient forests of chivalry hewn, and the joys of the combat burnt for fuel ; Till the power and dominion is rent from the i)ole, sword and sceptre from sun and moon. The law and gospel from fire and air, and eternal reason and science 95 From the deep and the solid, and man lay his faded head down on the rock Of eternity, w'here the eternal lion and eagle remain to devour ? This to prevent, urg’d by cries in day, and prophetic dreams hovering in night. To enrich the lean earth that craves, furrow’d with ploughs, whose seed is departing from her, Thy Nobles have gathered thy%tarry hosts round this rebellious city, TOO

To roBse up the ancient forests of Europe, with clarions of cloud* breathing war, To hear the horse neigh to the drum and trumpet, and tlie trumpet and war shout reply. Stretch the hand that beckons the eagles of heaven : they cry over Paris, and wait Till Fayette point his finger to Versailles — the eagles of heaven must have their prey ! * He ceas’d, and burn’d silent : red clouds roll round Necker ; a w^eeping is heard o’er the palace. 105 Like a dark cloud Necker paus’d, and like thunder on the just man’s burial day he paus’d. Silent sit the winds, silent the meadows ; while the husbandman and woman of weakness And bright children look after him into the grave, and water his clay with love. Then turn towards pensive fields : so Necker paus’d, and his visage was cover’d with clouds. The King lean’d on his mountains ; then lifted his head and look’d on his armies, that shone no 'I'hro’ heaven, tinging morning with beams of blood ; then turning to Burgundy, troubled : — ‘ Burgundy, thou wast born a lion ! My soul is o’ergrown with distress For the Nobles of France, and dark mists roll round me and blot the writing of God

Written in my bosom. Necker rise ! leave the kingdom, thy life is surrounded with snares. We have call’d an Assembly, but not to destroy ; we have given gifts, not to the weak ; 115 I hear rushing of muskets and bright’ning of swords ; and visages, redd’ning with war, Frowning and looking up from* brooding villages and every darkening city. Ancient wonders frown over the kingdom, and cries of women and babes' are heard, And tempests of doubt roll around me, and fierce sorrows, because of the Nobles of France. Depart ! answer not ! for the tempest must fall, as in years that are passed away.* 120 Dropping a tear the old man his place left, and when he was gone out He set his face toward Geneva to flee; and the women and children of the city KneePd round him and kissed his garments and wept : he stood a short space in the street, Then fled ; and the whole city knew he was fled to Geneva, and the Senate heard it. But the Nobles burn’d wrathful at Necker’s departure, and wreath’d their clouds and waters 125 In dismal volumes; as, risen from beneath, the Archbishop of Paris arose

In the rushing of scales, and hissing of flames, and rolling of sulphurous smoke ; — ‘ Hearken, Monarch of France, to the terrors of heaven, and let thy soul drink of my counsel ! Sleeping at midnight in my golden tower, the repose of the labours of men Wav’d its solemn cloud over my head. I awoke; a cold hand passed over my limbs, and behold I 1 30 An aged form, white as snow, hov’ring in mist, weeping in the uncertain light. Dim the form almost faded, tears fell down the shady cheeks ; at his feet many cloth’d In white robes, strewn in air censers and harps, silent they lay prostrated ; Beneath, in the awful void, mynads descending and weeping thro’ dismal winds ; Endless the shady train shivering descended, from the gloom where the aged form wept. 135 At length, trembling, the vision sighing, in a low voice like the voice of the grasshopper, whisper’d : “ My groaning is heard in the abbeys, and God, so long worshipped, departs as a lamp Without oil \ for a curse is heard hoarse thro’ the land, from a godless race Descending to beasts ; they look downward, and labour, and forget my holy law ;

The sound of prayer fails from lips of flesh, and the holy hymn from thicken’d tongues ; 140 For the bars of Chaos' arc hurst; her millions prepare their fiery way Thro’ the orbfed abode of the holy dead, to root up and pull down and remove, And Nobles and Clergy shall fail from before me, and my cloud and vision be no more ; The mitre become black, the crown vanish, and the sceptre and ivory staff Of the ruler wither among bones of death; they shall consume from the thistly field, 145 And the sound of the bell, and voice of the sabbath, and singing of the holy choir Is turn’d into songs of the harlot in day, and cries of the virgin in night. They shall drop at the plough and faint at the harrow, unredeem’d, unconfess’d, unpardon’d ; The priest rot in his surplice by the lawless lover, the holy beside the accursed. The King, frowning in purple, beside the grey ploughman, and their worms embrace together.” 150 The voice ceas’d : a groan shook my chamber. I slept, for the cloud of repose returned ; But morning dawn’d heavy upon me. I rose to bring my Prince heaven-utter’d counsel.

Hear my counsel, O King ! and send forth thy Generals ; the command of Heaven is upon thee ! Then do thou command, O King ! to shut up this Assembly in their final home ; Let thy soldiers possess this city of rebels, that threaten to bathe their feet 155 In the blood of Nobility, trampling the heart and the head ; let the Bastille devour These rebellious seditious ; seal them up, O Anointed ! in everlasting chains.’ He sat down : a damp cold pervaded the Nobles, and monsters of worlds unknown Swam round them, watching to be delivered — when Aumont, whose chaos-born soul Eternally wand’ring, a comet and swift-falling fire, pale enter’d the chamber. 160 Before the red Council he stood, like a man that returns from hollow graves ; — ‘Awe-surrounded, alone thro’ the army, a fear and a withering blight blown by the north, The Abb^ de Sieyes from the Nation’s Assembly, O Princes and Generals of France, Unquestioned, unhindered ! Awe-struck are the soldiers ; a dark shadowy man in the form Of King Henry the Fourth walks before him in fires ; the captains like men bound in chains 165

Stood still as he pass’d : he is come to the Louvre, O King, with a message to thee ! The strong soldiers tremble, the horses their manes bow, and the guards of thy palace are fled I ’ Uprose awful in his majestic beams Bourbon’s strong Duke ; his proud sword, from his thigh 272 Drawn, he threw on the eartfi : the Duke of Bretagne and the Earl of Bourgogne Rose vinflam’d, to and fro in the chamber, like thunder-clouds ready to burst. 170 ‘ What damp all our fires, O spectre of Henry !* said Bourbon, ‘and rend the flames From the head of our King? Rise, Monarch of France! command me, and I will lead This army of superstition at large, that the ardour of noble souls, quenchless, May yet burn in France, nor our shoulders be plough’d with the furrows of poverty/ Then Orleans, generous as mountains, arose and unfolded his robe, and put forth 175 His benevolent hand, looking on the Archbishop, who changed as pale as lead, Would have risen but could not : his voice issued harsh grating j instead of words harsh hissings Shook the chamber; he ceas’d abash’d. Then Orleans spoke; all was silent

He breath’d on them, and said : ‘O Princes of fire, whose flames are for growth, not consuming, Fear not dreams, fear not visions, nor be you dismay’d with sorrows which flee at the morning ! i8o Can the fires of Nobility ever be quench’d, or the stars by a stormy night ? Is the body diseas’d when the members are healthful? can the man be bound in sorrow Whose ev’ry function is fill’d with its fiery desire? can the soul, whose brain and heart Cast their rivers in equal tides thro’ the great Paradise, languish because the feet. Hands, head, bosom, and parts of love follow their high breathing joy ? 185 And can Nobles be bound when {he people are free, or God weep when his children are happy ? Have you never seen Fayette’s forehead, or Mirabeau’s eyes, or the shoulders of Target, Or Bailly the strong foot of France, or Clermont the terrible voice, and your robes Still retain their own crimson?— Mine never yet faded, for fire delights in its form ! But go, merciless man, enter into tho infinite labyrinth of another’s brain 190 Ere thou measure the circle that he shall run. Go, thou cold recluse, into the fires

Of another's high flaming lich bosom, and return unconsum’d, and write laws. If thou canst not do this, doubt thy theories, learn to consider all men as thy equals, Thy brethren, and not as tliy foot or thy hand, unless thou first fearest to hurt them.’ The Monarch stood up ; the strong Duke his sword to its golden scabbard return’d ; 195 The Nobles sat round like clouds on the mountains, when the storm is passing away : — ‘ Let the Nation’s Ambassador come among Nobles, like incense of the valley ! ’ Aumont went out and stood in the hollow porch, his ivory wand in his hand ; A cold orb of disdain revolv’d round him, and covered his soul with SHOW'S eternal. Great Henry’s soul shuddered, a whirlwind and fire tore furious from his angry bosom ; 200 He indignant departed on horses of heav’n. Then the Abbd de Sieyes rais’d his feet On the steps of the Louvre ; like a voice of God following a storm, the Abbe follow’d The pale fires of Aumont into the chamber ; as a father that bows to his son, Whose rich fields inheriting spread their old glory, so the voice of the people bow^d

Before the ancient seat of the kingdom and mountains to be renewed. 205 * Hear, O heavens of France! the voice of the people, arising from valley and hill, • O’erclouded with power. Hear the voice of valleys, the voice of meek cities. Mourning oppress^ on village and field, till the village and field is a waste. For the husbandman weeps at blights of the fife, and blasting of trumpets consume The souls of mild France ; the pale mother nourishes her child to the deadly slaughter. 210 When the heavens were seal’d with a stone, and the terrible sun clos’d in an orb, and the moon Rent from the nations, and each star appointed for watchers of night. The millions of spirits immortal were bound in the ruins of sulphur heaven To wander enslav’d ; black, depress’d in dark ignorance, kept in awe with the whip To worship terrors, bred from the blood of revenge and breath of desire 215 In bestial forms, or more terrible men ; till the dawn of our peaceful morning, Till dawn, till morning, till the breaking of clouds, and swelling of winds, and the universal voice ; Till man raise his darken’d limbs out of the caves of night. His eyes and his heart

Expand — Where is Space? where, O Sun, is thy dwelling? where thy tent, O faint slumb’rous Moon ? Then the valleys of France shall cry to the soldier : “ Throw down thy sword and musket, 220 And run and embrace the meek peasant/’ Her Nobles shall hear and shall weep, and put off The red robe of terror, the crown of oppression, the shoes of contempt, and unbuckle The girdle of war from the desolate earth. Then the Priest in his thund’rous cloud Shall weep, bending to earth, embracing the valleys, and putting his hand to the plough, Shall say : “ No more I curse thee \ but now I will bless thee : no more in deadly black 225 Devour thy labour ; nor lift up a cloud in thy heavens, O laborious plough ; That the wild raging millions, that wander in forests, and howl in law-blasted wastes. Strength madden’d with slavery, honesty bound in the dens of superstition, May sing in the village, and shout in the harvest, and woo in pleasant gardens Their once savage loves, now beaming with knowledge, with gentle awe adornfed ; 330 And the saw, and the hammer, the chisel, the pencil, the pen, and the instruments

Of heavenly song sound in the wilds once forbidden, to teach the laborious ploughman And shepherd, deliver’d from clouds of war, from pestilence, from night-fear, from murder. From falling, from stifling, from hunger, from cold, from slander, discontent and sloth, That walk in beasts and birds of night, driven back by the sandy desert, 235 Like pestilent fogs round cities of men ; and the happy earth sing in its course, I'he mild peaceable nations be opened to heav’n, and men walk with their fathers in bliss.” Then hear the first voice of the morning ; “ Depart, O clouds of night, and no more Return \ be withdrawn cloudy war, troops of warriors depart, nor around our peaceable city Breathe fires ; but ten miles from Paris let all be peace, nor a soldier be seen ! ” * 2^0 lie ended : the wind of contention arose, and the clouds cast their shadows ; the Princes Like the mountains of France, whose agM trees utter an awful voice, and their branches Are shatter'd ; till gradual a murmur is heard descending into the valley, Like a voice in the vineyards of Burgundy when grapes are shaken on grass,

Like the low voice of the labouring man, instead of the shout of joy ; 245 And the palace appear’d like a cloud driven abroad ; blood ran down the ancient pillars. Thro’ the cloud a deep thunder, the Duke of Burgundy, delivers the King’s command : — ‘Seest thou yonder dark castle, that moated around, keeps this city of Paris in awe ? Go, command yonder tower, saying ; “ Bastille, depart ! and take thy shadowy course ; Overstep the dark river, thou terrible tower, and get thee up into the country ten miles. 250 And thou black southern prison, move along the dusky road to Versailles; there Frown on the gardens ” — and, if it obey and depart, then the King will disband This war-breathing army ; but, if it refuse, let the Nation’s Assembly thence learn That this army of terrors, that prison of horrors, are the bands of the murmuring kingdom.’ Like the morning star arising above the black waves, when a shipwreck’d soul sighs for morning, 255 Thro’ the ranks, silent, walk’d the Ambassador back to the Nation’s Assembly, and told The unwelcome message. Silent they heard; then a thunder roll’d < 70 und loud and louder ;

Like pillars of ancient halls and ruins of times remote, they sat. Like a voice from the dim pillars Mirabeau rose; the thunders subsided away ; A rushing of wings around him was heard as he brighten’d, and cried out aloud : « 260 ‘ Where is the General of the Nation ? ’ The walls re-echo’d : ‘ Where is the General of the Nation ? ’ Sudden as the bullet wrapp’d in his fire, when brazen cannons rage in the field, Fayette sprung from his seat saying ‘ Ready ! ^ Then bowing like clouds, man toward man, the Assembly Like a Council of Ardours seated in clouds, bending over the cities of men, And over the armies of strife, where their children are marshall’d together to battle, 265 They murmuring divide ; while the wind sleeps beneath, and the numbers are counted in silence. While they vote the removal of War, and the pestilence weighs his red wings in the sky. So P'ayette stood silent among the Assembly, and the votes were given, and the numbers numb’red ; And the vote was that Fayette should order the army to remove ten miles from Paris. The agbd Sun rises appall’d from dark mountains, and gleams a dusky beam 270

On Fayette ; but on the whole army a shadow, for a cloud on the eastern hills Hover’d, and stretch’d across the city, and across the army, and across the Louvre. Like a flame of fire he stood before dark ranks, and before expecting captains : On pei|)tilent vapours around him flow frequent spectres of religious men, weeping * In winds ; driven out of the abbeys, their naked souls shiver in keen open air; 275 Driven out by the fiery cloud of Voltaire, and thunderous rocks of Rousseau, They dash like foam againsLthe ridges of the army, uttering a faint feeble cry. Gleams of fire streak the heavens, and of sulphur the earth, from Fayette as he lifted his hand ; But silent he stood, till all the officers rush round him like waves Round the shore of France, in day of the British flag, when heavy cannons 2 So Affright the coasts, and the peasant looks over the sea and wipes a tear : Over his head the soul of Voltaire shone fiery ; and over the army Rousseau his white cloud Unfolded, on souls of war, living terrors, silent listening toward Fayette. His voice loud inspir’d by liberty, and by spirits of the dead, thus thunder’d ; —

‘The Nation’s Assembly command that the Army remove ten miles from Paris ; 285 Nor a soldier be seen in road or in field, till the Nation command return,* Rushing along iron ranks glittering, the officers each to his station Depart, and the stern captain strokes his proud steed, and in front of his solid ranks Waits the sound of trumpet ; captains of foot stand each by his cloudy drum : Then the drum beats, and the steely ranks move, and trumpets rejoice in the sky. 290 Dark cavalry, like clouds fraught with thunder, ascend on the hills, and bright infantry, rank Behind rank, to the souhshaking drum and shrill hfe, alo^ig the roads glitter like fire. The noise of trampling, the wind of trumpets, smote the Palace walls with a blast. Pale and cold sat the King in midst of his Peers, and his noble heart sunk, and his pulses Suspended their motion ; a darkness crept over his eyelids, and chill cold sweat 295 Sat round his brows faded in faint death ; his Peers pale like mountains of the dead, Cover’d with dews of night, groaning, shaking forests and floods. The cold newt. And snake, and damp toad on the kingly foot crawl, or croak on the awful knee.

Shedding their slime; in folds of the robe the crown’d adder builds and hisses From stony brows : shaken the forests of France, sick the kings of the nations, 300 And the bottoms of the world were open’d, and the graves of archangels unseal’d : The enormous dead lift up their pale fires and look over the rocky cliffs. A faint heat from their fires reviv’d the cold Louvre ; the frozen blood reflow’d. Awful uprose the King ; him the Peers follow’d ; they saw the courts of the Palace Forsaken, and Paris without a soldier, silent. For the noise was gone up 305 And follow’d the army ; and the Senate in peace sat beneath morning’s beam. 1 . The Eternal Female groan’d • It was heard over all the Earth. 2. Albion’s coast is sick, silent. The American meadows faint ! 3. Shadows of Prophecy shiver along by the lakes and the rivers, and mutter across the ocean. France, rend down thy dungeon ! 4. Golden Spain, burst the barriers of old Rome ! 5. Cast thy keys, O Rome ! into the deep, down falling, even to eternity down falling, 7. In her trembling hands she took the new-born terror, howling.

8. On those infinite mountains of light, now barr’d out by the Atlantic sea, the new-born fire stood before the starry king ! 9. Flagg’d with grey-brow’d snows and thunderous visages, the jealous wings wav’d over the deep. 10. The speary hand burnM aloft, unbuckled was the shield; forth went the hand of Jealousy among the flaming hair, and hurl’d the new-born wonder thro’ the starry night. 11. The fire, the fire, is falling ! 12. Look up! look up! O citizen of London, enlarge thy countenance ! O Jew, leave counting gold ! return to thy oil and wine. O African ! black African ! Go, mnghd thought, widen his forehead ! A Song of Liberty 13. The fiery limbs, the flaming hair, shot like the sinking sun into the western sea. 14. Wak^d from his eternal sleep, the hoary element, roaring, fled away. 15. Down rush’d, beating his wings in vain, the jealous King; his grey-brow’d counsellors, thunderous warriors, curl’d veterans, among helms, and shields, and chariots, horses, elephants, banners, castles, slings, and rocks, 16. Falling, rushing, ruining t buried in the ruins, on Urthona’s dens ; 1 7. All night beneath the ruins ; then, their sullen flames faded, emerge round the gloomy King.

18. With thunder and fire, leading his starry hosts thro’ the waste wilderness, he promulgates his ten commands, glancing his beamy eyelids over the deep in dark dismay, 19. Where the son of fire in his eastern cloud, while the morning plumes her golden breast, 20. Spurning the clouds written with curses, stamps the stony law to dust, loosing the eternal horses from the dens of night, crying : Empire is no more ! and nmv the lion and wolf shall cease. Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn no longer, in deadly black, with hoarse note curse the sons of joy ! Nor his accepted brethren — whom, tyrant, he calls free — lay the bound or build the roof I Nor pale Religion’s lechery call that Virginity that w^ishes but acts not ! For everything that lives is Holy ! And I was not ashamed ; I trembled in my virgin fears, And I hid in Leutha’s vale ! And I rose up from the vale ; But the terrible thunders tore My virgin mantle in twain. Enslav’d, the Daughters of Albion weep ; a trembling lamentation Upon their mountains ; in their valleys, sighs toward America.

For the soft soul of America, Oothoon, wander’d in woe Along the vales of Leutha, seeking flowers to comfort her ; And thus she spoke to the bright Marigold of Leutha’s vale : — ^ ‘ Art thou a flower ? art thou a nymph ? I see thee now a flower, Now a nymph ! I dare not pluck thee from thy dewy bed ! ’ The Golden nymph replied : ‘Pluck thou my flower, Oothoon the mild! Visions of the Daughters of Albion Another flower shall spring, because the soul of sweet delight Can never pass away.* She ceas’d, and clos’d her golden shrine. lo Then Oothoon pluck’d the flower, saying : * I pluck thee from thy bed, Sweet flower, and put thee here lo glow between my breasts j And thus I turn my face to where my whole soul seeks.’ Over the waves she went in wing’d exulting swift delight, Bromion rent her with his thunders ; on his stormy bed Lay the faint maid, and soon her woes appall'd his thunders hoarse. Bromion spoke : ‘ Behold this harlot here on Bromion’s bed, And let the jealous dolphins sport around the lovely maid !

Thy soft American plains are mine, and mine thy north and south : 20 Stamp’d with my signet are the swarthy children of the sun ; They are obedient, they resist not, they obey the scourge ; Their daughters worship terrors and obey the violent. Now thou may’st marry Bromion’s harlot, and protect the child Of Bromion’s rage, that Oothoon shall put forth in nine moons’ time.’ 25 Then storms rent Theotormon’s limbs : he roll’d his waves around, And folded his black jealous waters round the adulterate pair. Bound back to back in Bromion’s caves, terror and meekness dwell : At entrance Theotormon sits, wearing the threshold hard With secret tears; beneath him sound like waves on a desert shore 30 The voice of slaves beneath the sun, and children bought with money. That shiver in religious caves beneath the burning fires Of lust, that belch incessant from the summits of the earth. Oothoon weeps not ; she cannot weep, her tears are locked up ; And calling Theotormon’s Eagles to prey upon her flesh. Visions of the Daughters of Albion ‘ I call with holy voice ! Kings of the sounding air, Rend away this defilM bosom that I may reflect

The image of Theotormon on my pure transparent breast.* Theotormon severely smiles ; her soul reflects the smile, As the clear spring, muddied with feet of beasts, grows pure and smiles. The Daughters of Albion hearjier woes, and echo back her sighs. ‘ Why does my Theotormon sit weeping upon the threshold, And Oothoon hovers by his side, persuading him in vain ? 45 I cry : Arise, O Theotormon ! for the village dog Barks at the breaking day ; the niglitingale has done lamenting ; The lark does rustle in the ripe corn, and the eagle returns From nightly prey, and lifts his golden beak to the pure east, Shaking the dust from his immortal pinions to awake *>0 The sun that sleeps too long. Arise, my Theotormon ! I am pure. Because the night is gone that closed me in its deadly black. They told me that the night and day were all that I could see ; They told me that I had five senses to enclose me up ; And sunk my heart into the Abyss, a red, round globe, hot burning. Till all from life I was obliterated and erased. Instead of morn arises a bright shadow, like an eye In the eastern cloud ; instead of night a sickly charnel-house. That Theotormon hears me not. To him the night and morn 6c Are both alike ; a night of sighs, a morning of fresh tears ;

And none but Bromion can hear my lamentations. ' With what sense is it that the chicken shuns the ravenous hawk ? With what sense does the tame pigeon measure out the expanse ? With what sense does the bee form cells ? Have not the mouse and frog 65 Eyes and ears and sense of touch ? Yet arc their habitations And their pursuits as different as their forms and as their joys. Ask the wild ass why he refuses burdens, and the meek camel Visions of the Daughters of Albion Why he loves man. Is it because of eye, ear, mouth, or skin. Or breathing nostrils ? No ! for these the wolf and tiger have. ;c Ask the blind worm the secrets of the grave, and why her spires Love to carl round the bones of death ; and ask the rav’nous snake Where she gets poison, and the wing’d eagle why he loves the sun; And then tell me the thoughts of man, that have been hid of old. ‘ Silent I hover all the night, and all day could be silent, 75 If Theotormon once would turn his loved eyes upon me. How can I be defil’d when I reflect thy image pure ?

Sweetest the fruit that the worm feeds on, and the soul prey’d on by woe, The new-wash’d lamb ting’d with the village smoke, and the bright swan And I am white and pure to hover round Theotormon’s breast.’ Then Theotormon broke his silence, and he answered : — * Tell me what is the night or day to one o’erflow’d with woe ? Tell me what is a thought, and of what substance is it made ? Tell me what is a joy, and in w^hat gardens do joys grow ? 85 And in what rivers swim the sorrows ? And upon what mountains Wave shadows of discontent ? And in what houses dwell the wTetchcd, Drunken with woe, forgotten, and shut up from cold despair ? ‘ Tell me where dwell the thoughts, forgotten till thou call them forth ? 89 Tell me where dwell the joys of old, and where the ancient loves, And when will they renew again, and the night of oblivion past, 'rhat I might traverse times and spaces far remote, and bring Comforts into a present sorrow and a night of pain ? Where goest thou, O thought ? to what remote land is thy flight ?

Wilt thou bring comforts on thy wings, and dews and honey and balm. Or poison from the desert wilds, from the eyes of the envier?’ Visions of the Daughters of Albion Then Bromion said, and shook the cavern with his lamentation : — *Thou knowest that the ancient trees seen by thine eyes have fruit ; But knoVest thou that trees and fruits flourish upon the earth loo To gratify senses unknown — trees, beasts, and birds unknown ; Unknown, not unperceiv’d, spread in the infinite microscope, In places yet unvisited by the voyager, and in worlds Over another kind of seas, and in atmospheres unknown ? Ah ! are there other wars, beside the wars of sword and fire ? 105 And are there other sorrows beside the sorrow^s of poverty ? And are there other joys beside the joys of riches and ease ? And is there not one law for both the lion and the ox ? And is there not eternal fire, and eternal chains To bind the phantoms of existence from eternal life ? * no Then Oothoon waited silent all the day and all the night ; But when the morn arose, her lamentation renew'd :

The Daughters of Albion hear her woes, and echo back her sighs. * O Urizen ! Creator of men ! mistaken Demon of heaven ! Thy joys are tears, thy labour vain to form men to thine image. How can one joy absorb another ? Are not different joys 116 Holy, eternal, infinite ? and each joy is a Love. ‘ Does not the great mouth laugh at a gift, and the narrow eyelids mock At the labour that is above payment ? And wilt thou take the ape For thy counsellor, or the dog for a schoolmaster to thy children ? Does he who contemns poverty, and he who turns with abhorrence From usury feel the same passion, or are they movfed alike ? How can the giver of gifts experience the delights of the merchant ? How the industrious citizen the pains of the husbandman ? Who buys whole corn-fields into wastes, and sings upon the heath I How different their eye and ear ! How different the world to them ! With what sense does the parson claim the labour of the farmer ? What are his nets and gins and traps ; and how docs he surround him

Visions of the Daughters of Albion To build him castles and high spires, where kings and priests may dwell ; Till she. who burns with youth, and knows no fixed lot, is bound In spells of law to one she loathes ? And must she drag the chain Of life in weary lust ? Must chilling, murderous thoughts obscure The clear heaven of her eternal spring ; to bear the wintry rage Over her shrinking shoulders all the day, and all the night To turn the wheel of false desire, and longings that wake her womb To the abhorrM birth of cherubs in the human form. Till the child dwell with one he hates, and do the deed he loathes. And the impure scourge force his seed Into its unripe birth, Ere yet his eyelids can behold the arrows of the day ? ‘ Does the whale worship at thy footsteps as the hungry dog ; Draw in the ocean? Does his eye discern the flying cloud As the raven’s eye; or docs he measure the expanse like the vulture ? Does the still spider view the cliffs where eagles hide their young ; Or does the fly rejoice because the harvest is brought in ?

Does not the eagle scorn the earth, and despise the treasures beneath ? 1 50 But the mole knoweth what is there, and the worm shall tell it thee. Does not the worm erect a pillar in the mouldering churchyard And a palace of eternity in the jaws of the hungry grave ? Over his porch these words are written : “ Take thy bliss, O Man ! And sweet shall be thy taste, and sweet thy infant joys renew ! ” 155 * Infancy ! fearless, lustful, happy, nestling for delight In laps of pleasure ; Innocence ! honest, open, seeking The vigorous joys of morning light, open to virgin bliss, Who taught thee modesty, subtil modesty, child of night and sleep ? Visions of the Daughters of Albion Or wert thou not awake when all this mystery was disclos’d ? Then earnest thou forth a modest virgin knowing to dissemble, With nets found under thy night pillow, to catch virgin jby And brand it with the name of whore, and sell it in the night Religious dreams and holy vespers light thy smoky fires : Once were thy fires lighted by the eyes of honest morn. And does my Theotormon seek this hypocrite modesty,

This knowing, artful, secret, fearful, cautious, trembling hypocrite ? Then is Oothoon a whore indeed I and all the virgin joys \ 70 Of life are harlots ; and Theotormon is a sick man’s dream ; And Oothoon is the crafty slave of selfish holiness. * But Oothoon is not so, a virgin fill’d with virgin fancies. Open to joy and to delight wherever beauty appears : If in the morning sun I find it, there my eyes are fix’d 1 75 In happy copulation ; if in evening mild, wearied with work, Sit on a bank and draw the pleasures of this free-born joy. * The moment of desire ! the moment of desire ! The virgin That pines for man shall awaken her womb to enormous joys in the secret shadows of her chamber : the youth shut up from j8o T he lustful joy shall forget to generate, and create an amorous image In the shadows of his curtains and in the folds of his silent pillow. Are not these the places of religion, the rewards of continence, The self-enjoyings of self-denial ? Why dost thou seek religion ? Where the horrible darkness is impressM with reflections of desire ?

‘ Father of Jealousy, be thou accursbd from the earth ! Why hast thou taught my Theotormon this accurst thing, Till beauty fades from off my shoulders, darken’d and cast out, A solitary shadow wailing on the margin of nonentity ? 190 ‘ I cry : Love ! Love ! Love ! happy happy l.ove ! free as the mountain wind ! Visions of the Daughters of Albion Can that be Love, that drinks another as a sponge drinks water, That clouds with jealousy his nights, with weepings all the day, To spin a web of age around him, grey and hoary, dark ; . Till his ^yes sicken at the fruit that hangs before his sight ? 195 Such is self-love that envies all, a creeping skeleton, AVith lamplike eyes watching around the frozen marriage bed ! ‘ But silken nets and traps of adamant will Oothoon spread, And catch for thee girls of mild silver, or of furious gold. ril lie beside thee on a bank, and view their wanton play 200 In lovely copulation, bliss on bliss, with Theotormon : Red as the rosy morning, lustful as the first-born beam, Oothoon shall view his dear delight ; nor e’er with jealous cloud Come in the heaven of generous love, nor selfish blightings bring.

‘ Does the sun walk, in glorious raiment, on the secret floor 205 Where the cold miser spreads his gold ; or does the bright cloud drop On his stone threshold ? Docs his eye behold the beam that brings Expansion to the eye of pity ; or will he bind himself Beside the ox to thy hard furrow ? Does not that mild beam blot The bat, the owl, the glowing tiger, and the king of night? aio The sea-fowl takes the wintry blast for a cov’ring to her limbs, And the wild snake the pestilence to adorn him with gems and gold ; And trees, and birds, and beasts, and men behold their eternal joy. Arise, you little glancing wings, and sing your infant joy ! Arise, and drink your bliss, for everything that lives is holy ! ’ 215 Thus every morning wails Oothoon ; but Theotormon sits Upon the margin’d ocean conversing with shadows dire. The Daughters of Albion hear her woes, and echo back her sighs. THE END A PROPHECY (Engraved 1793) The shadowy Daughter of Urthona stood before red Ore, When fourteen suns had faintly journey^ o*er his dark abode : His food she brought in iron baskets, his drink in cups of iron. Crown’d with a helmet and dark hair the nameless Female stood ;

When pestilence is shot from heaven — no other arms she need ! Invulnerable tho’ naked, save where clouds roll round her loins Their awful folds in the dark air : silent she stood as night ; For never from her iron tongue could voice or sound arise, -But dumb till that dread day when Ore assay’d his fierce embrace. * Dark Virgin,’ said the hairy Youth, * thy father stem, abhorr’d, 1 1 Rivets my tenfold chains, while still on high my spirit soars ; Sometimes an eagle screaming in the sky, sometimes a lion Stalking upon the mountains, and sometimes a whale, I lash Around the pillars of Urthona, and round thy dark limbs On the Canadian wilds I fold ; feeble my spirit folds ; For chain’d beneath I rend these caverns: when thou bringest food I howl my joy, and my red eyes seek to behold thy face — In vain ! these clouds roll to and fro, and hide thee from my sight.' Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy, The hairy shoulders rend the links ; free are the wrists of fire ; Round the terrific loins he seiz’d the panting, struggling womb ;

It joy’d : she put aside her clouds and smiled her first-born smile, Soon as she saw the Terrible Boy, then burst the virgin cry : — * I know thee, I have found thee, and I will not let thee go ; Thou art the image of God who dwells in darkness of Africa, And thou art fall’n to give me life in regions of dark death. Endur’d by roots that writhe their arms into the nether deep. I see a Serpent in Canada who courts me to his love. In Mexico an Eagle, and a Lion in Peru ; I see a Whale in the South Sea, drinking my soul away. Q what limb-rending pains I feel ! thy fire and my frost 35 Mingle in howling pains, in furrows by thy lightnings rent. This is Eternal Death, and this the torment long foretold ! ’ The Guardian Prince of Albion burns in his nightly tent ; Sullen fires across the Atlantic glow to America’s shore, Piercing the souls of warlike men who rise in silent night. Washington, Franklin, Paine, and Warren, Gates, Hancock, and Green Meet on the coast glowing with blood from Albion’s fiery Prince. Washington spoke : ‘ Friends of America ! look over the Atlantic sea ; 6

A bended bow is lifted in Heaven, and a heavy iron chain Descends, link by link, from Albion’s cliffs across the sea, to bind Brothers and sons of America ; till our faces pale and yellow. Feet bleeding on the sultry sands, and the furrows of the whip Descend to generations, that in future times forget.’ The strong voice ceas’d ; for a terrible blast swept over the heaving sea : The eastern cloud rent: on ifis cliffs stood Albion’s wrathful Prince, A dragon form, clashing his scales : at midnight he arose, 15 And flam’d red meteors round the land of Albion beneath ; His voice, his locks, his awful shoulders, and his glowing eyes Appear to the Americans upon the cloudy night. Solemn heave the Atlantic waves between the gloomy nations, Albion is sick ! America faints*! Enrag’d the Zenith grew. As human blood shooting its veins all round the orbed heaven. Red rose the clouds from the Atlantic in vast wheels of blood. And in the red clouds rose a Wonder o’er the Atlantic sea — Intense ! naked! a Human fire, fierce glowing, as the wedge 25 Of iron heated in the furnace ; his terrible limbs were fire,

AVith myriads of cloudy terrors, banners dark, and towers Surrounded : heat but not light went thro’ the murky atmosphere. The King of England looking westward trembles at the vision. The Terror like a comet, or more like the planet red. That once enclos’d the terrible wandering comets in its sphere. Then, Mars, thou wast our centre, and the planets three flew round Thy crimson disk ; so, ere the Sun was rent from thy red sphere. W’ith beams of blood ; and thus a voice enme forth, and shook the temple ; — ‘ The morning comes, the night decays, the watchmen leave their stations ; The grave is burst, the spices shed, the linen wrapped up ; The bones of death, the cov’ring clay, the sinews shrunk and dry’d Spring like redeemed captives, when their bonds and bars are burst. Let the slave grinding at the mill run out into the field. Let him look up into the heavens and laugh in the bright air ] Let the enchained soul, shut up in darkness and in sighing, Rise and look out ; his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open; And let his wife and children return from the oppressor’s scourge. They look behind at every step, and believe it is a dream.

Singing : “ The Sun has left his blackness, and has found a fresher morning, For Empire is no more, and now the Lion and Wolf shall cease.” ’ In thunders ends the voice. Then Albion’s Angel wrathful burnt Beside the Stone of Night ; and, like the Eternal Lion’s howl In famine and war, reply ’d : ‘ Art thou not Ore, who serpent-form’d Stands at the gate of Enitharmon to devour her children ? 55 Blasphemous Demon, Antichrist, hater of Dignities, Lover of wild rebellion, and transgressor of God’s Law, Why dost thou come to Angel’s eyes in this terrific form ? ’ The Terror answer’d; ‘I am Ore, wreath’d round the accursed tree : The times are ended ; shadows pass, the morning ’gins to break ; The fiery joy, that Urizen perverted to ten commands, 6r AVhat night he led the starry hosts thro’ the wide wilderness, I'hat stony Law I stamp to dust ; and scatter Religion abroad To the four winds as a torn book, and none shall gather the leaves ; But they shall rot on desert sands, and consume in bottomless deeps, 65 To make the deserts blossom, and the deeps shrink to their fountains.

And to renew the fiery joy, and burst the stony roof ; That pale religious lechery, seeking Virginity, May find it in a harlot, and in coarse-clad honesty For everything that lives is holy, life delights in life ; Because the soul of sweet delight can never be defil’d. Fires enwrap the earthly globe, yet Man is not consum’d; Amidst the lustful fires he walks* his feet become like brass, His knees and thighs like silver, and his breast and head like go]d. 1 h ‘ Sound ! sound 1 my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen J^oud howls the Eternal Wolf! the Eternal Lion lashes his tail ! America is darkened ; and my punishing Demons, terrified, Crouch howling before their caverns deep, like skins dry*d in the wind. 79 They cannot smite the wheat, nor quench the fatness of the earth ; They cannot smite with sorrows, nor subdue the plough and spade ; They cannot wall the city, nor moat round the castle of princes j They cannot bring the stubbed oak to overgrow the hills ; For terrible men stand on the shores, and in their robes I see Children take shelter from the lightnings : there stands Washington, And Paine, and Warren, with their foreheads reared toward the East — 86

But clouds obscure my aged sight. A vision from afar ! Sound ! sound ! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen Angels ! Ah, vision from afar 1 Ah, rebel form that rent the ancient Heavens ! Eternal Viper self-renew*d, rolling in clouds, 90 I see thee in thick clouds and darkness on America's shore. Writhing in pangs of abhorred birth ; red flames the crest rebellious And eyes of death ; the harlot womb, oft opened in vain. Heaves in enormous circles : now the times are return’d upon thee, Sound ! sound ! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen Angels ! Ah, terrible birth ! a young one bursting 1 Where is the weeping mouth. And where the mother’s milk ? Instead, those ever-hissing jaws And parched lips drop with fresh gore : now roll thou in the clouds ] Thy mother lays her length outstretch’d upon the shore beneath. Sound ! sound ! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen Angels ! loi Loud howls the Eternal Wolf! the Eternal Lion lashes his tail ! * Thus wept the Angel voice, and as he wept the terrible blasts Of trumpets blew a loud alarm across the Atlantic deep.

No trumpets answer ; no reply of clarions or of fifes : 105 Silent the Colonies remain and refuse the loud alarm. On those vast shady hills between America and Albion’s shore, Now barr’d out by the Atlantic sea, call’d Atlantean hills. Because from their bright summits you may pass to the Golden World, An ancient palace, archetype of mighty Emperies, no Rears its immortal pinnacles, built in the forest of God By Ariston, the King of Beauty, for his stolen bride. Herex)n their magic seats the 'Ehirteen Angels sat perturb’d. For clouds from the Atlantic hover o’er the solemn roof. Around their shores, indignant burning with the fires of Ore ; And Boston’s Angel cried aloud as they flew thro’ the dark night. He cried : ‘ Why trembles honesty ; and, like a murderer. Why seeks he refuge from the frowns of his immortal station } Must the generous tremble, and leave his joy to the idle, to the pestilence 120 That mock him ? Who commanded this ? What God ? What Angel ? To keep the gen’rous from experience till the ungenerous Are unrestrain’d performers of the energies of nature; That men get rich by; and the sandy desert is giv’n to the strong? ^Vhat God is he writes laws of peace, and clothes him in a tempest ? What pitying Angel lusts for tears, and fans himself with sighs ? What crawling villain preaches abstinence and wraps himself In fat of lambs ? No more I follow, no more obedience pay ! ’

So cried he, rending off his robe and throwing down his sceptre Rent off their robes to the hungry wind, and threw their golden sceptres • Down on the land of America ; indignant they descended Headlong from out their heav’nly heights, descending swift as fires In the deep gloom ; by Washington and Paine and Warren they stood ; * And the flame folded, roaring fierce within the pitchy night, Before the Demon red, who burnt towards America, In black smoke, thunders, and loud winds, rejoicing in its terror. Breaking in smoky wTeaths from the wild deep, and gathering thick In flames as of a furnace on the land from North to South, 14 1 What time the Thirteen Governors, that England sent, convene In Bernard’s house. The flames cover’d the land \ they rouse ; they cry ; , Shaking their mental chains, they rush in fury to the sea To quench their anguish ; at the feet of Washington down falPn They grovel on the sand and writhing lie, while all 14G The British soldiers thro’ the Thirteen States sent up a howl Of anguish, threw their swords and muskets to the earth, and run From their encampments and dark castles, seeking where to hide

Of Albion’s Angel ; who, enrag’d, his secret clouds open’d From North to South, and burnt outstretch’d on wings of wrath, cov’ring The eastern sky, spreading his awful wings across the heavens. Beneath him roll’d his num’rous hosts, all Albion’s Angels camp’d Darken’d the Atlantic mountains; and their trumpets shook the valleys, 155 Arm’d with diseases of the earth to cast upon the Abyss — Their numbers forty millions, must’ring in the eastern sky. In the flames stood and view’d the armies drawn out in the sky, Washington, Franklin, Paine, and Warren, Allen, Gates, and Lee, And heard the voice of Albion’s Angel give the thunderous command ; 160 His plagues, obedient to his voice, flew forth out of their 'clouds. Falling upon America, as a storm to cut them off, As a blight cuts the tender corn when it begins to appear. Dark is the heaven above, and cold and hard the earth beneath : And, as a plague-wind, fill’d with insects, cuts off man and beast, Fury, rage, madness, in a wind swd^t through America ; And the red flames of Ore, that folded roaring, fierce, around The angry shores; and the fierce rushing of th’ inhabitants together! 'rhe citizens of New York close their books and lock their chests ; 'File mariners of Boston droj) their anchors and unlade ; 171

I'he scribe of Pennsylvania casts his pen upon the earth ; The builder of Virginia throws his hammer down in fear. 'Phen had America been lost, o’erwhelm’d by the Atlantic, But all rush together in the night in wrath and raging fire. I'he red fires rag’d ! The plagues recoil’d ! Then roll'd they back with fury On Albion’s Angels : then the Pestilence began in streaks of red Across the limbs of Albion’s Guardian ; the spotted plague smote Bristol’s, And the Leprosy London’s Spirit, sickening all their bands : 180 The millions sent up a howl of anguish and threw off their hammer’d mail. And cast their swords and spears to earth, and stood, a naked multitude : Albion’s Guardian writhed in torment on the eastern sky, Pale, quiv’ring toward the brain his glimmering eyes, teeth chattering. Howling and shuddering, his legs quivering, convuls’d each muscle and sinew : 185 Sick’ning lay London’s Guardian, and the ancient mitred York, Their heads on snowy hills, their ensigns sick’ning in the sky. The plagues creep on the burning winds, driven by flames of Ore, And by the fierce Americans rushing together in the night. Driven o’er the Guardians of Ireland, and Scotland ancl Wales. They, spotted with plagues, forsook the frontiers ; •and their banners, sear’d iqi

With fires of hell, deform their ancient Heavens with shame and woe. Hid in his caves the Bard of Albion felt the enormous plagues, And a cowl of flesh grew o’qj* his head, and scales on his back and ribs ; And, rough with black scales, all his Angels fright their ancient heavens. 195 The doors of marriage are open, and the Priests, in rustling scales, Rush into reptile coverts, hiding from the fires of Ore, I'hat play around the golden roofs in wreaths of fierce desire, Leaving the Females naked and glowing with the lusts of youth. Run from their fetters ; reddening, and in long-drawn arches sitting, They feel the nerves of youth renew, and desires of ancient times Over their pale limbs, as a vine when the tender grape ap[)ears. Over the hills, the vales, the cities rage the red flames fierce : 204 The Heavens melted from North to South ; and Urizen, who sat Above all heavens, in thunders wrapp’d, emerg’d his leprous head From out his holy shrine, his tears in deluge piteous Falling into the deep sublime ; flagg’d with grey-brow’d snows And thunderous vi.sages, his jealous wings wav’d over the deep; Around the smitten bands, clothed in tears and trembling, shudd’ring, cold.

His stor^jd snows he poured forth, and his icy magazine^ He open’d on the deep, and on the Atlantic sea, white, shiv’ring ; Leprous his limbs, all over white, and hoary was his visage ; V/ceping in dismal bowlings before the stern Arneri(',ans, 215 Hiding the Demon red with clouds and cold mists from the earth ; Till Angels and weak men twelve years should govern o*er the strong ; And then their end should come, when France recety’d the Demon’s light. Stiff shudderings shook the heavenly thrones! France, Spain, and Italy In terror view'd the bands of Albion, and the ancient Guardians, Fainting upon the elements, smitten with their own plagues ! 221 They slow advance to shut the five gates of their law-built Heaven, Filled with blasting fancies and with mildews of despair. With fierce disease and lust, unable to stem the fires of Ore. But the five gates were consum'd, and their bolts and hinges melted; 225 And the fierce flames burnt round the heavens, and round the abodes of men. * Five windows light the cavern’d Man : thro' one he breathes the Thro' one hears music of the*spheres ; thro' one the Eternal Vine P'lourishes, that he may receive the grapes ; thro' one can look And see small portions of the Eternal World that ever groweth ; Thro’ one himself pass out what time he please, but he will not ;

So sang a Fairy, mocking, as he sat on a streak'd tulip, Thinking none saw him : when he ceas’d I started from the trees, And caught him in my hat, as boys knock down a butterfly. ‘ How know you this,’ said I, * small Sir ? where did you learn this song?' 10 Seeing himself in my possession, thus he answer’d me : * My Master, I am yours ! command me, for I must obey.' ‘Then tell me, what is the Material World, and is it dead?' He, laughing, answer’d : ‘ I will write a book on leaves of flowers. If you will feed me on love-thoughts, and give me now and then I’ll sing to you to this soft lute, and show you all alive The World, when every particle of dust breathes forth its joy.’ Wild flowers I gathered ; and he show'd me each Eternal Flower : He laugh’d aloud to see them whimper b^ause they were pluck’d. They hover’d round me like a cloud of incense. When I came Into my parlour and sat down, and took my pen to write. My Fairy sat upon the table, and dictated Europe. These Introductory lines, which Blake engraved as part of the poem, are found, so far as I am aware, only in the copy of Europe in the possession of the Linnell family, where it follows the frontispiece and title-page, and precedes the Preludium.

The nameless Shadowy Female rose from out the breast of Ore, Her snaky hair brandishing in the winds of Enitharmon ; And thus her voice arose : — ‘ O mother Enitharmon, wilt thou bring forth other sons, To cause my name to vanish, tliat my place may not be found ? 5 For I am faint with travel, Like the dark cloud disburden’d in the day of dismal thunder. ■My roots are brandish’d in the heavens, my fruits in earth beneath Surge, foam, and labour into life, first born and first consum’d ! Consumed and consuming ! jo Then why shouldst thou, Accursed Mother, bring me into life ? ‘ I wrap my turban of thick clouds around my lab’ring head. And fold the sheety waters as a mantle round my limbs ; Yet the red sun and moon * Unwilling I look up to heaven, unwilling count the stars : Sitting in fathomless abyss of my immortal shrine I seize their burning power, And bring forth howling terrors, all-devouring fiery kings, ‘ Devouring and devoured, roaming on dark and desolate mountains, In forests of Eternal Death, shrieking in hollow trees. 2 1 Ah, mother Enitharmon ! Stamp not with solid form this vig’rous progeny of fires.