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    6.29.2008

    Monday Mural

    by Jypcee
    artwork Surealist Self Image (Lithograph)
    from Photobucket
    originally uploaded here

    Monday Mural will feature a picture/ artwork for you to lend your words (poem or story) each Monday. I want you to ask yourself what images are provoked here? What words would you use to define this picture? If you choose to write for Monday Mural please leave your comments below. Hope to see you around.

    Surealist Self Image was originally uploaded to Photobucket by Jypcee.

    6.27.2008

    P. S. I Love You

    movie P.S. I Love You
    date 2007
    poem Jerusalem: The Emanation
    of the Giant Albion
    author William Blake

    Jerusalem: The Emanation of the Giant Albion by William Blake can be found in its entirety below. The words used in the movie are in bold. Comments welcome.

    There is a Void, outside of Existence, which if enterd into
    Englobes itself & becomes a Womb, such was Albions Couch
    A pleasant Shadow of Repose calld Albions lovely Land

    His Sublime & Pathos become Two Rocks fixd in the Earth
    His Reason his Spectrous Power, covers them above
    Jerusalem his Emanation is a Stone laying beneath
    O [Albion behold Pitying] behold the Vision of Albion

    Half Friendship is the bitterest Enmity said Los
    As he enterd the Door of Death for Albions sake Inspired
    The long sufferings of God are not for ever there is a Judgment

    Every Thing has its Vermin O Spectre of the Sleeping Dead!

    SHEEP GOATS

    To the Public

    After my three years slumber on the banks of the Ocean, I
    again display my Giant forms to the Public: My former Giants &
    Fairies having reciev'd the highest reward possible: the
    [love] and [friendship] of those with whom to
    be connected, is to be [blessed]: I cannot doubt that
    this more consolidated & extended Work, will be as kindly
    recieved
    The Enthusiasm of the following Poem, the Author hopes t25
    [no Reader will think presumptuousness or arroganc[e] when he
    is reminded that the Ancients acknowledge their love to their
    Deities, to the full as Enthusiastically as I have who
    Acknowledge mine for my Saviour and Lord, for they were wholly
    absorb'd in their Gods.] I also hope the Reader will
    be with me, wholly One in Jesus our Lord, who is the God [ of
    Fire] and Lord [of Love] to whom the Ancients
    look'd and saw his day afar off, with trembling & amazement.
    The Spirit of Jesus is continual forgiveness of Sin: he who
    waits to be righteous before he enters into the Saviours kingdom,
    the Divine Body; will never enter there. I am perhaps the most
    sinful of men! I pretend not to holiness! yet I pretend to love,
    to see, to converse with daily, as man with man, & the more to
    have an interest in the Friend of Sinners. Therefore
    [Dear] Reader, [forgive] what you do not
    approve, & [love] me for this energetic exertion of my
    talent.

    Reader! [lover] of books! [lover] of heaven,
    And of that God from whom [all books are given,]
    Who in mysterious Sinais awful cave
    To Man the wond'rous art of writing gave,
    Again he speaks in thunder and in fire!
    Thunder of Thought, & flames of fierce desire:
    Even from the depths of Hell his voice I hear,
    Within the unfathomd caverns of my Ear.
    Therefore I print; nor vain my types shall be:
    Heaven, Earth & Hell, henceforth shall live in harmony

    Of the Measure, in which
    the following Poem is written

    We who dwell on Earth can do nothing of ourselves, every
    thing is conducted by Spirits, no less than Digestion or Sleep.
    [to Note the last words of Jesus,
    Edotha moi pasa exousia en ouranon kai epi ges]
    When this Verse was first dictated to me I consider'd a
    Monotonous Cadence like that used by Milton & Shakspeare & all
    writers of English Blank Verse, derived from the modern bondage
    of Rhyming; to be a necessary and indispensible part of Verse.
    But I soon found that

    in the mouth of a true Orator such monotony was not only awkward,
    but as much a bondage as rhyme itself. I therefore have produced
    a variety in every line, both of cadences & number of syllables.
    Every word and every letter is studied and put into its fit
    place: the terrific numbers are reserved for the terrific
    parts—the mild & gentle, for the mild & gentle parts, and the
    prosaic, for inferior parts: all are necessary to each other.
    Poetry Fetter'd, Fetters the Human Race! Nations are Destroy'd,
    or Flourish, in proportion as Their Poetry Painting and Music,
    are Destroy'd or Flourish! The Primeval State of Man, was Wisdom,
    Art, and Science.

    Chap: I


    Of the Sleep of Ulro! and of the passage through
    Eternal Death! and of the awaking to Eternal Life.

    This theme calls me in sleep night after night, & ev'ry morn
    Awakes me at sun-rise, then I see the Saviour over me
    Spreading his beams of love, & dictating the words of this mild song.

    Awake! awake O sleeper of the land of shadows, wake! expand!
    I am in you and you in me, mutual in love divine:
    Fibres of love from man to man thro Albions pleasant land.
    In all the dark Atlantic vale down from the hills of Surrey
    A black water accumulates, return Albion! return!
    Thy brethren call thee, and thy fathers, and thy sons,
    Thy nurses and thy mothers, thy sisters and thy daughters
    Weep at thy souls disease, and the Divine Vision is darkend:
    Thy Emanation that was wont to play before thy face,
    Beaming forth with her daughters into the Divine bosom [ Where!!]
    Where hast thou hidden thy Emanation lovely Jerusalem
    From the vision and fruition of the Holy-one?
    I am not a God afar off, I am a brother and friend;
    Within your bosoms I reside, and you reside in me:
    Lo! we are One; forgiving all Evil; Not seeking recompense!
    Ye are my members O ye sleepers of Beulah, land of shades!

    But the perturbed Man away turns down the valleys dark;
    [Saying. We are not One: we are Many, thou most simulative]
    Phantom of the over heated brain! shadow of immortality!
    Seeking to keep my soul a victim to thy Love! which binds

    Man the enemy of man into deceitful friendships:
    Jerusalem is not! her daughters are indefinite:
    By demonstration, man alone can live, and not by faith.
    My mountains are my own, and I will keep them to myself!
    The Malvern and the Cheviot, the Wolds Plinlimmon & Snowdon
    Are mine. here will I build my Laws of Moral Virtue!
    Humanity shall be no more: but war & princedom & victory!

    So spoke Albion in jealous fears, hiding his Emanation
    Upon the Thames and Medway, rivers of Beulah: dissembling
    His jealousy before the throne divine, darkening, cold!

    The banks of the Thames are clouded! the ancient porches of Albion are
    Darken'd! they are drawn thro' unbounded space, scatter'd upon
    The Void in incoherent despair! Cambridge & Oxford & London,
    Are driven among the starry Wheels, rent away and dissipated,
    In Chasms & Abysses of sorrow, enlarg'd without dimension, terrible[.]
    Albions mountains run with blood, the cries of war & of tumult
    Resound into the unbounded night, every Human perfection
    Of mountain & river & city, are small & wither'd & darken'd
    Cam is a little stream! Ely is almost swallowd up!
    Lincoln & Norwich stand trembling on the brink of Udan-Adan!
    Wales and Scotland shrink themselves to the west and to the north!
    Mourning for fear of the warriors in the Vale of Entuthon-Benython
    Jerusalem is scatterd abroad like a cloud of smoke thro' non-entity:
    Moab & Ammon & Amalek & Canaan & Egypt & Aram
    Recieve her little-ones for sacrifices and the delights of cruelty

    Trembling I sit day and night, my friends are astonish'd at me.
    Yet they forgive my wanderings, I rest not from my great task!
    To open the Eternal Worlds, to open the immortal Eyes
    Of Man inwards into the Worlds of Thought: into Eternity
    Ever expanding in the Bosom of God. the Human Imagination
    O Saviour pour upon me thy Spirit of meekness & love:
    Annihilate the Selfhood in me, be thou all my life!
    Guide thou my hand which trembles exceedingly upon the rock of ages,
    While I write of the building of Golgonooza, & of the terrors of Entuthon:
    Of Hand & Hyle & Coban, of Kwantok, Peachey, Brereton, Slayd & Hutton:
    Of the terrible sons & daughters of Albion. and their Generations.

    Scofield! Kox, Kotope and Bowen, revolve most mightily upon
    The Furnace of Los: before the eastern gate bending their fury.
    They war, to destroy the Furnaces, to desolate Golgonooza:
    And to devour the Sleeping Humanity of Albion in rage & hunger.

    They revolve into the Furnaces Southward & are driven forth Northward
    Divided into Male and Female forms time after time.
    From these Twelve all the Families of England spread abroad.

    The Male is a Furnace of beryll; the Female is a golden Loom;
    I behold them and their rushing fires overwhelm my Soul,
    In Londons darkness; and my tears fall day and night,
    Upon the Emanations of Albions Sons! the Daughters of Albion
    Names anciently rememberd, but now contemn'd as fictions!
    Although in every bosom they controll our Vegetative powers.

    These are united into Tirzah and her Sisters, on Mount Gilead,
    Cambel & Gwendolen & Conwenna & Cordella & Ignoge.
    And these united into Rahab in the Covering Cherub on Euphrates
    Gwiniverra & Gwinefred, & Gonorill & Sabrina beautiful,
    Estrild, Mehetabel & Ragan, lovely Daughters of Albion
    They are the beautiful Emanations of the Twelve Sons of Albion

    The Starry Wheels revolv'd heavily over the Furnaces;
    Drawing Jerusalem in anguish of maternal love,
    Eastward a pillar of a cloud with Vala upon the mountains
    Howling in pain, redounding from the arms of Beulahs Daughters,
    Out from the Furnaces of Los above the head of Los.
    A pillar of smoke writhing afar into Non-Entity, redounding
    Till the cloud reaches afar outstretch'd among the Starry Wheels
    Which revolve heavily in the mighty Void above the Furnaces

    O what avail the loves & tears of Beulahs lovely Daughters
    They hold the Immortal Form in gentle bands & tender tears
    But all within is open'd into the deeps of Entuthon Benython
    A dark and unknown night, indefinite, unmeasurable, without end.
    Abstract Philosophy warring in enmity against Imagination
    (Which is the Divine Body of the Lord Jesus. blessed for ever).
    And there Jerusalem wanders with Vala upon the mountains,
    Attracted by the revolutions of those Wheels the Cloud of smoke
    Immense, and Jerusalem & Vala weeping in the Cloud
    Wander away into the Chaotic Void, lamenting with her Shadow
    Among the Daughters of Albion, among the Starry Wheels;
    Lamenting for her children, for the sons & daughters of Albion

    Los heard her lamentations in the deeps afar! his tears fall
    Incessant before the Furnaces, and his Emanation divided in pain,
    Eastward toward the Starry Wheels. But Westward, a black Horror,

    His spectre driv'n by the Starry Wheels of Albions sons, black and
    Opake divided from his back; he labours and he mourns!

    For as his Emanation divided, his Spectre also divided
    In terror of those starry wheels: and the Spectre stood over Los
    Howling in pain: a blackning Shadow, blackning dark & opake
    Cursing the terrible Los: bitterly cursing him for his friendship
    To Albion, suggesting murderous thoughts against Albion.

    Los rag'd and stamp'd the earth in his might & terrible wrath!
    He stood and stampd the earth! then he threw down his hammer in rage &
    In fury: then he sat down and wept, terrified! Then arose
    And chaunted his song, labouring with the tongs and hammer:
    But still the Spectre divided, and still his pain increas'd!

    In pain the Spectre divided: in pain of hunger and thirst:
    To devour Los's Human Perfection, but when he saw that Los

    Was living: panting like a frighted wolf, and howling
    He stood over the Immortal, in the solitude and darkness:
    Upon the darkning Thames, across the whole Island westward.
    A horrible Shadow of Death, among the Furnaces: beneath
    The pillar of folding smoke; and he sought by other means,
    To lure Los: by tears, by arguments of science & by terrors:
    Terrors in every Nerve, by spasms & extended pains:
    While Los answer'd unterrified to the opake blackening Fiend

    And thus the Spectre spoke: Wilt thou still go on to destruction?
    Till thy life is all taken away by this deceitful Friendship?
    He drinks thee up like water! like wine he pours thee
    Into his tuns: thy Daughters are trodden in his vintage
    He makes thy Sons the trampling of his bulls, they are plow'd
    And harrowd for his profit, lo! thy stolen Emanation
    Is his garden of pleasure! all the Spectres of his Sons mock thee
    Look how they scorn thy once admired palaces! now in ruins
    Because of Albion! because of deceit and friendship! For Lo!
    Hand has peopled Babel & Nineveh: Hyle, Ashur & Aram:
    Cobans son is Nimrod: his son Cush is adjoind to Aram,
    By the Daughter of Babel, in a woven mantle of pestilence & war.
    They put forth their spectrous cloudy sails; which drive their immense
    Constellations over the deadly deeps of indefinite Udan-Adan
    Kox is the Father of Shem & Ham & Japheth, he is the Noah
    Of the Flood of Udan-Adan. Hutn is the Father of the Seven
    From Enoch to Adam; Schofield is Adam who was New-
    Created in Edom. I saw it indignant, & thou art not moved!
    This has divided thee in sunder: and wilt thou still forgive?
    O! thou seest not what I see! what is done in the Furnaces.
    Listen, I will tell thee what is done in moments to thee unknown:

    Luvah was cast into the Furnaces of affliction and sealed,
    And Vala fed in cruel delight, the Furnaces with fire:
    Stern Urizen beheld; urgd by necessity to keep
    The evil day afar, and if perchance with iron power
    He might avert his own despair: in woe & fear he saw
    Vala incircle round the Furnaces where Luvah was clos'd:
    With joy she heard his howlings, & forgot he was her Luvah,
    With whom she liv'd in bliss in times of innocence & youth!
    Vala comes from the Furnace in a cloud, but wretched Luvah
    Is howling in the Furnaces, in flames among Albions Spectres,
    To prepare the Spectre of Albion to reign over thee O Los,
    Forming the Spectres of Albion according to his rage:
    To prepare the Spectre sons of Adam, who is Scofield: the Ninth
    Of Albions sons, & the father of all his brethren in the Shadowy
    Generation. Cambel & Gwendolen wove webs of war & of
    Religion, to involve all Albions sons, and when they had
    Involv'd Eight; their webs roll'd outwards into darkness
    And Scofield the Ninth remaind on the outside of the Eight
    And Kox, Kotope, & Bowen, One in him, a Fourfold Wonder
    Involv'd the Eight—Such are the Generations of the Giant Albion,
    To separate a Law of Sin, to punish thee in thy members.

    Los answer'd. Altho' I know not this! I know far worse than this:
    I know that Albion hath divided me, and that thou O my Spectre,
    Hast just cause to be irritated: but look stedfastly upon me:
    Comfort thyself in my strength the time will arrive,
    When all Albions injuries shall cease, and when we shall
    Embrace him tenfold bright, rising from his tomb in immortality.
    They have divided themselves by Wrath. they must be united by
    Pity: let us therefore take example & warning O my Spectre,
    O that I could abstain from wrath! O that the Lamb
    Of God would look upon me and pity me in my fury.
    In anguish of regeneration! in terrors of self annihilation:
    Pity must join together those whom wrath has torn in sunder,
    And the Religion of Generation which was meant for the destruction
    Of Jerusalem, become her covering, till the time of the End.
    O holy Generation! of regeneration!
    O point of mutual forgiveness between Enemies!
    Birthplace of the Lamb of God incomprehensible!
    The Dead despise & scorn thee, & cast thee out as accursed:
    Seeing the Lamb of God in thy gardens & thy palaces:
    Where they desire to place the Abomination of Desolation.
    Hand sits before his furnace: scorn of others & furious pride:
    Freeze round him to bars of steel & to iron rocks beneath
    His feet: indignant self-righteousness like whirlwinds of the north:

    Rose up against me thundering from the Brook of Albions River

    From Ranelagh & Strumbolo, from Cromwells gardens & Chelsea
    The place of wounded Soldiers. but when he saw my Mace
    Whirld round from heaven to earth, trembling he sat: his cold
    Poisons rose up: & his sweet deceits coverd them all over
    With a tender cloud. As thou art now; such was he O Spectre
    I know thy deceit & thy revenges, and unless thou desist
    I will certainly create an eternal Hell for thee. Listen!
    Be attentive! be obedient! Lo the Furnaces are ready to recieve thee.
    I will break thee into shivers! & melt thee in the furnaces of death;
    I will cast thee into forms of abhorrence & torment if thou
    Desist not from thine own will, & obey not my stern command!
    I am closd up from my children: my Emanation is dividing
    And thou my Spectre art divided against me. But mark
    I will compell thee to assist me in my terrible labours. To beat
    These hypocritic Selfhoods on the Anvils of bitter Death
    I am inspired: I act not for myself: for Albions sake
    I now am what I am: a horror and an astonishment
    Shuddring the heavens to look upon me: Behold what cruelties
    Are practised in Babel & Shinar, & have approachd to Zions Hill

    While Los spoke, the terrible Spectre fell shuddring before him
    Watching his time with glowing eyes to leap upon his prey
    Los opend the Furnaces in fear. the Spectre saw to Babel & Shinar
    Across all Europe & Asia. he saw the tortures of the Victims.
    He saw now from the ou[t]side what he before saw & felt from within
    He saw that Los was the sole, uncontrolld Lord of the Furnaces
    Groaning he kneeld before Los's iron-shod feet on London Stone,
    Hungring & thirsting for Los's life yet pretending obedience.
    While Los pursud his speech in threatnings loud & fierce.

    Thou art my Pride & Self-righteousness: I have found thee out:
    Thou art reveald before me in all thy magnitude & power
    Thy Uncircumcised pretences to Chastity must be cut in sunder!
    Thy holy wrath & deep deceit cannot avail against me
    Nor shalt thou ever assume the triple-form of Albions Spectre
    For I am one of the living: dare not to mock my inspired fury
    If thou wast cast forth from my life! if I was dead upon the mountains
    Thou mightest be pitied & lovd: but now I am living; unless
    Thou abstain ravening I will create an eternal Hell for thee.
    Take thou this Hammer & in patience heave the thundering Bellows
    Take thou these Tongs: strike thou alternate with me: labour obedient
    Hand & Hyle & Koban: Skofeld, Kox & Kotope, labour mightily
    In the Wars of Babel & Shinar, all their Emanations were
    Condensd. Hand has absorbd all his Brethren in his might
    All the infant Loves & Graces were lost, for the mighty Hand

    Condens'd his Emanations into hard opake substances;
    And his infant thoughts & desires, into cold, dark, cliffs of death.
    His hammer of gold he siezd; and his anvil of adamant.
    He siez'd the bars of condens'd thoughts, to forge them:
    Into the sword of war: into the bow and arrow:
    Into the thundering cannon and into the murdering gun
    I saw the limbs form'd for exercise, contemn'd: & the beauty of
    Eternity, look'd upon as deformity & loveliness as a dry tree:
    I saw disease forming a Body of Death around the Lamb
    Of God, to destroy Jerusalem, & to devour the body of Albion
    By war and stratagem to win the labour of the husbandman:
    Awkwardness arm'd in steel: folly in a helmet of gold:
    Weakness with horns & talons: ignorance with a rav'ning beak!
    Every Emanative joy forbidden as a Crime:
    And the Emanations buried alive in the earth with pomp of religion:
    Inspiration deny'd; Genius forbidden by laws of punishment:
    I saw terrified; I took the sighs & tears, & bitter groans:
    I lifted them into my Furnaces; to form the spiritual sword.
    That lays open the hidden heart: I drew forth the pang
    Of sorrow red hot: I workd it on my resolute anvil:
    I heated it in the flames of Hand, & Hyle, & Coban
    Nine times; Gwendolen & Cambel & Gwineverra
    Are melted into the gold, the silver, the liquid ruby,
    The crysolite, the topaz, the jacinth, & every precious stone.
    Loud roar my Furnaces and loud my hammer is heard:
    I labour day and night, I behold the soft affections
    Condense beneath my hammer into forms of cruelty
    But still I labour in hope, tho' still my tears flow down.
    That he who will not defend Truth, may be compelld to defend
    A Lie: that he may be snared and caught and snared and taken
    That Enthusiasm and Life may not cease: arise Spectre arise!

    Thus they contended among the Furnaces with groans & tears;
    Groaning the Spectre heavd the bellows, obeying Los's frowns;
    Till the Spaces of Erin were perfected in the furnaces
    Of affliction, and Los drew them forth, compelling the harsh Spectre.

    Into the Furnaces & into the valleys of the Anvils of Death
    And into the mountains of the Anvils & of the heavy Hammers
    Till he should bring the Sons & Daughters of Jerusalem to be
    The Sons & Daughters of Los that he might protect them from
    Albions dread Spectres; storming, loud, thunderous & mighty
    The Bellows & the Hammers move compell'd by Los's hand.

    And this is the manner of the Sons of Albion in their strength
    They take the Two Contraries which are calld Qualities, with which

    Every Substance is clothed, they name them Good & Evil
    From them they make an Abstract, which is a Negation
    Not only of the Substance from which it is derived
    A murderer of its own Body: but also a murderer
    Of every Divine Member: it is the Reasoning Power
    An Abstract objecting power, that Negatives every thing
    This is the Spectre of Man: the Holy Reasoning Power
    And in its Holiness is closed the Abomination of Desolation

    Therefore Los stands in London building Golgonooza
    Compelling his Spectre to labours mighty; trembling in fear
    The Spectre weeps, but Los unmovd by tears or threats remains

    I must Create a System, or be enslav'd by another Mans
    I will not Reason & Compare: my business is to Create

    So Los, in fury & strength: in indignation & burning wrath
    Shuddring the Spectre howls. his howlings terrify the night
    He stamps around the Anvil, beating blows of stern despair
    He curses Heaven & Earth, Day & Night & Sun & Moon
    He curses Forest Spring & River, Desart & sandy Waste
    Cities & Nations, Families & Peoples, Tongues & Laws
    Driven to desperation by Los's terrors & threatning fears

    Los cries, Obey my voice & never deviate from my will
    And I will be merciful to thee: be thou invisible to all
    To whom I make thee invisible, but chief to my own Children
    O Spectre of Urthona: Reason not against their dear approach
    Nor them obstruct with thy temptations of doubt & despair
    O Shame O strong & mighty Shame I break thy brazen fetters
    If thou refuse, thy present torments will seem southern breezes
    To what thou shalt endure if thou obey not my great will.

    The Spectre answer'd. Art thou not ashamd of those thy Sins
    That thou callest thy Children? lo the Law of God commands
    That they be offered upon his Altar: O cruelty & torment
    For thine are also mine! I have kept silent hitherto,
    Concerning my chief delight: but thou hast broken silence
    Now I will speak my mind! Where is my lovely Enitharmon
    O thou my enemy, where is my Great Sin? She is also thine
    I said: Now is my grief at worst: incapable of being
    Surpassed: but every moment it accumulates more & more
    It continues accumulating to eternity! the joys of God advance
    For he is Righteous: he is not a Being of Pity & Compassion
    He cannot feel Distress: he feeds on Sacrifice & Offering:
    Delighting in cries & tears & clothed in Holiness & solitude
    But my griefs advance also, for ever & ever without end
    O that I could cease to be! Despair! I am Despair

    Created to be the great example of horror & agony: also my
    Prayer is vain I called for compassion: compassion mockd
    Mercy & pity threw the grave stone over me & with lead
    And iron, bound it over me for ever: Life lives on my
    Consuming: & the Almighty hath made me his Contrary
    To be all evil, all reversed & for ever dead: knowing
    And seeing life, yet living not; how can I then behold
    And not tremble; how can I be beheld & not abhorrd

    So spoke the Spectre shuddring, & dark tears ran down his shadowy face
    Which Los wiped off, but comfort none could give! or beam of hope
    Yet ceasd he not from labouring at the roarings of his Forge
    With iron & brass Building Golgonooza in great contendings
    Till his Sons & Daughters came forth from the Furnaces
    At the sublime Labours for Los. compelld the invisible Spectre

    To labours mighty, with vast strength, with his mighty chains,
    In pulsations of time, & extensions of space, like Urns of Beulah
    With great labour upon his anvils, & in his ladles the Ore
    He lifted, pouring it into the clay ground prepar'd with art;
    Striving with Systems to deliver Individuals from those Systems;
    That whenever any Spectre began to devour the Dead,
    He might feel the pain as if a man gnawd his own tender nerves.

    Then Erin came forth from the Furnaces, & all the Daughters of Beulah
    Came from the Furnaces, by Los's mighty power for Jerusalems
    Sake: walking up and down among the Spaces of Erin:
    And the Sons and Daughters of Los came forth in perfection lovely!
    And the Spaces of Erin reach'd from the starry heighth, to the starry depth.

    Los wept with exceeding joy & all wept with joy together!
    They feard they never more should see their Father, who
    Was built in from Eternity, in the Cliffs of Albion.

    But when the joy of meeting was exhausted in loving embrace;
    Again they lament. O what shall we do for lovely Jerusalem?
    To protect the Emanations of Albions mighty ones from cruelty?
    Sabrina & Ignoge begin to sharpen their beamy spears
    Of light and love: their little children stand with arrows of gold:
    Ragan is wholly cruel Scofield is bound in iron armour!
    He is like a mandrake in the earth before Reubens gate:
    He shoots beneath Jerusalems walls to undermine her foundations!
    Vala is but they Shadow, O thou loveliest among women!
    A shadow animated by thy tears O mournful Jerusalem!

    Why wilt thou give to her a Body whose life is but a Shade?.
    Her joy and love, a shade: a shade of sweet repose:
    But animated and vegetated, she is a devouring worm:
    What shall we do for thee O lovely mild Jerusalem?

    And Los said. I behold the finger of God in terrors!
    Albion is dead! his Emanation is divided from him!
    But I am living! yet I feel my Emanation also dividing
    Such thing was never known! O pity me, thou all-piteous-one!
    What shall I do! or how exist, divided from Enitharmon?
    Yet why despair! I saw the finger of God go forth
    Upon my Furnaces, from within the Wheels of Albions Sons:
    Fixing their Systems, permanent: by mathematic power
    Giving a body to Falshood that it may be cast off for ever.
    With Demonstrative Science piercing Apollyon with his own bow!
    God is within, & without! he is even in the depths of Hell!

    Such were the lamentations of the Labourers in the Furnaces!

    And they appeard within & without incircling on both sides
    The Starry Wheels of Albions Sons, with Spaces for Jerusalem:
    And for Vala the shadow of Jerusalem: the ever mourning shade:
    On both sides, within & without beaming gloriously!

    Terrified at the sublime Wonder, Los stood before his Furnaces.
    And they stood around, terrified with admiration at Erins Spaces
    For the Spaces reachd fro the starry heighth, to the starry depth;
    And they builded Golgonooza: terrible eternal labour!

    What are those golden builders doing? where was the burying-place
    Of soft Ethinthus? near Tyburns fatal Tree? is that
    Mild Zions hills most ancient promontory; near mournful
    Ever weeping Paddington? is that Calvary and Golgotha?
    Becoming a building of pity and compassion? Lo!
    The stones are pity, and the bricks, well wrought affections:
    Enameld with love & kindness, & the tiles engraven gold
    Labour of merciful hands: the beams & rafters are forgiveness:
    The mortar & cement of the work, tears of honesty: the nails,
    And the screws & iron braces, are well wrought blandishments,
    And well contrived words, firm fixing, never forgotten,
    Always comforting the remembrance: the floors, humility,
    The cielings, devotion: the hearths, thanksgiving:
    Prepare the furniture O Lambeth in thy pitying looms!
    The curtains, woven tears & sighs, wrought into lovely forms
    For comfort. there the secret furniture of Jerusalems chamber
    Is wrought: Lambeth! the Bride the Lambs Wife loveth thee:
    Thou art one with her & knowest not of self in thy supreme joy.

    Go on, builders in hope: tho Jerusalem wanders far away,
    Without the gate of Los: among the dark Satanic wheels.

    Fourfold the Sons of Los in their divisions: and fourfold,
    The great City of Golgonooza: fourfold toward the north
    And toward the south fourfold, & fourfold toward the east & west
    Each within other toward the four points: that toward
    Eden, and that toward the World of Generation,
    And that toward Beulah, and that toward Ulro:
    Ulro is the space of the terrible starry wheels of Albions sons:
    But that toward Eden is walled up, till time of renovation:
    Yet it is perfect in its building, ornaments & perfection.

    And the Four Points are thus beheld in Great Eternity
    West, the Circumference: South, the Zenith: North,
    The Nadir: East, the Center, unapproachable for ever.
    These are the four Faces towards the Four Worlds of Humanity
    In every Man. Ezekiel saw them by Chebars flood.
    And the Eyes are the South, and the Nostrils are the East.
    And the Tongue is the West, and the Ear is the North.

    And the North Gate of Golgonooza toward Generation;
    Has four sculpturd Bulls terrible before the Gate of iron.
    And iron, the Bulls: and that which looks toward Ulro,
    Clay bak'd & enamel'd, eternal glowing as four furnaces:
    Turning upon the Wheels of Albions sons with enormous power.
    And that toward Beulah four, gold, silver, brass, & iron:

    And that toward Eden, four, form'd of gold, silver, brass, & iron.

    The South, a golden Gate, has four Lions terrible, living!
    That toward Generation, four, of iron carv'd wondrous:
    That toward Ulro, four, clay bak'd, laborious workmanship
    That toward Eden, four; immortal gold, silver, brass & iron.

    The Western Gate fourfold, is closd: having four Cherubim
    Its guards, living, the work of elemental hands, laborious task!
    Like Men, hermaphroditic, each winged with eight wings
    That towards Generation, iron; that toward Beulah, stone;
    That toward Ulro, clay: that toward Eden, metals.
    But all clos'd up till the last day, when the graves shall yield their dead

    The Eastern Gate, fourfold: terrible & deadly its ornaments:
    Taking their forms from the Wheels of Albions sons; as cogs
    Are formd in a wheel, to fit the cogs of the adverse wheel.

    That toward Eden, eternal ice, frozen in seven folds
    Of forms of death: and that toward Beulah, stone:
    The seven diseases of the earth are carved terrible.

    And that toward Ulro, forms of war: seven enormities:
    And that toward Generation, seven generative forms.

    And every part of the City is fourfold; & every inhabitant, fourfold.
    And every pot & vessel & garment & utensil of the houses,
    And every house, fourfold; but the third Gate in every one
    Is closd as with a threefold curtain of ivory & fine linen & ermine.
    And Luban stands in middle of the City. a moat of fire,
    Surrounds Luban, Los's Palace & the golden Looms of Cathedron.

    And sixty-four thousand Genii, guard the Eastern Gate:
    And sixty-four thousand Gnomes, guard the Northern Gate:
    And sixty-four thousand Nymphs, guard the Western Gate:
    And sixty-four thousand Fairies, guard the Southern Gate:

    Around Golgonooza lies the land of death eternal; a Land
    Of pain and misery and despair and ever brooding melancholy:
    In all the Twenty-seven Heavens, numberd from Adam to Luther;
    From the blue Mundane Shell, reaching to the Vegetative Earth.

    The Vegetative Universe, opens like a flower from the Earths center:
    In which is Eternity. It expands in Stars to the Mundane Shell
    And there it meets Eternity again, both within and without,
    And the abstract Voids between the Stars are the Satanic Wheels.

    There is the Cave; the Rock; the Tree; the Lake of Udan Adan;
    The Forest, and the Marsh, and the Pits of bitumen deadly:
    The Rocks of solid fire: the Ice valleys: the Plains
    Of burning sand: the rivers, cataract & Lakes of Fire:
    The Islands of the fiery Lakes: the Trees of Malice: Revenge:
    And black Anxiety; and the Cities of the Salamandrine men:
    (But whatever is visible to the Generated Man,
    Is a Creation of mercy & love, from the Satanic Void.)
    The land of darkness flamed but no light, & no repose:
    The land of snows of trembling, & of iron hail incessant:
    The land of earthquakes: and the land of woven labyrinths:
    The land of snares & traps & wheels & pit-falls & dire mills:
    The Voids, the Solids, & the land of clouds & regions of waters:
    With their inhabitants: in the Twenty-seven Heavens beneath Beulah:
    Self-righteousnesses conglomerating against the Divine Vision:
    A Concave Earth wondrous, Chasmal, Abyssal, Incoherent!
    Forming the Mundane Shell: above; beneath: on all sides surrounding
    Golgonooza: Los walks round the walls night and day.

    He views the City of Golgonooza, & its smaller Cities:
    The Looms & Mills & Prisons & Work-houses of Og & Anak:
    The Amalekite: the Canaanite: the Moabite: the Egyptian:
    And all that has existed in the space of six thousand years:
    Permanent, & not lost not lost nor vanishd, & every little act,

    Word, work, & wish, that has existed, all remaining still
    In those Churches ever consuming & ever building by the Spectres
    Of all the inhabitants of Earth wailing to be Created:
    Shadowy to those who dwell not in them, meer possibilities:
    But to those who enter into them they seem the only substances
    For every thing exists & not one sigh nor smile nor tear,

    One hair nor particle of dust, not one can pass away.

    He views the Cherub at the Tree of Life, also the Serpent,
    Orc the first born coild in the south: the Dragon Urizen:
    Tharmas the Vegetated Tongue even the Devouring Tongue:
    A threefold region, a false brain: a false heart:
    And false bowels: altogether composing the False Tongue,
    Beneath Beulah: as a watry flame revolving every way
    And as dark roots and stems: a Forest of affliction, growing
    In seas of sorrow. Los also views the Four Females:
    Ahania, and Enion, and Vala, and Enitharmon lovely.
    And from them all the lovely beaming Daughters of Albion,
    Ahania & Enion & Vala, are three evanescent shades:
    Enitharmon is a vegetated mortal Wife of Los:
    His Emanation, yet his Wife till the sleep of death is past.

    Such are the Buildings of Los! & such are the Woofs of Enitharmon!

    And Los beheld his Sons, and he beheld his Daughters:
    Every one a translucent Wonder: a Universe within,
    Increasing inwards, into length and breadth, and heighth:
    Starry & glorious: and they every one in their bright loins:
    Have a beautiful golden gate which opens into the vegetative world:
    And every one a gate of rubies & all sorts of precious stones
    In their translucent hearts, which opens into the vegetative world:
    And every one a gate of iron dreadful and wonderful,
    In their translucent heads, which opens into the vegetative world
    And every one has the three regions Childhood: Manhood: & Age:
    But the gate of the tongue: the western gate in them is clos'd,
    Having a wall builded against it: and thereby the gates
    Eastward & Southward & Northward, are incircled with flaming fires.
    And the North is Breadth, the South is Heighth & Depth:
    The East is Inwards: & the West is Outwards every way.

    And Los beheld the mild Emanation Jerusalem eastward bending
    Her revolutions toward the Starry Wheels in maternal anguish
    Like a pale cloud arising from the arms of Beulahs Daughters:
    In Entuthon Benythons deep Vales beneath Golgonooza.

    And Hand & Hyle rooted into Jerusalem by a fibre
    Of strong revenge & Skofeld Vegetated by Reubens Gate

    In every Nation of the Earth till the Twelve Sons of Albion
    Enrooted into every Nation: a mighty Polypus growing
    From Albion over the whole Earth: such is my awful Vision.

    I see the Four-fold Man. The Humanity in deadly sleep
    And its fallen Emanation. The Spectre & its cruel Shadow.
    I see the Past, Present & Future, existing all at once
    Before me; O Divine Spirit sustain me on thy wings!
    That I may awake Albion from his long & cold repose.
    For Bacon & Newton sheathd in dismal steel, their terrors hang
    Like iron scourges over Albion, Reasonings like vast Serpents
    Infold around my limbs, bruising my minute articulations

    I turn my eyes to the Schools & Universities of Europe
    And there behold the Loom of Locke whose Woof rages dire
    Washd by the Water-wheels of Newton. black the cloth
    In heavy wreathes folds over every Nation; cruel Works
    Of many Wheels I view, wheel without wheel, with cogs tyrannic
    Moving by compulsion each other: not as those in Eden: which
    Wheel within Wheel in freedom revolve in harmony & peace.

    I see in deadly fear in London Los raging round his Anvil
    Of death: forming an Ax of gold: the Four Sons of Los
    Stand round him cutting the Fibres from Albions hills
    That Albions Sons may roll apart over the Nations
    While Reuben enroots his brethren in the narrow Canaanite
    From the Limit Noah to the Limit Abram in whose Loins
    Reuben in his Twelve-fold majesty & beauty shall take refuge
    As Abraham flees from Chaldea shaking his goary locks
    But first Albion must sleep, divided from the Nations

    I see Albion sitting upon his Rock in the first Winter
    And thence I see the Chaos of Satan & the World of Adam
    When the Divine Hand went forth on Albion in the mid Winter
    And at the place of Death when Albion sat in Eternal Death
    Among the Furnaces of Los in the Valley of the Son of Hinnom

    Hampstead Highgate Finchley Hendon Muswell hill: rage loud
    Before Bromions iron Tongs & glowing Poker reddening fierce
    Hertfordshire glows with fierce Vegetation! in the Forests
    The Oak frowns terrible, the Beech & Ash & Elm enroot
    Among the Spiritual fires; loud the Corn fields thunder along
    The Soldiers fife; the Harlots shriek; the Virgins dismal groan
    The Parents fear: the Brothers jealousy: the Sisters curse
    Beneath the Storms of Theotormon & the thundring Bellows
    Heaves in the hand of Palamabron who in Londons darkness
    Before the Anvil, watches the bellowing flames: thundering
    The Hammer loud rages in Rintrahs strong grasp swinging loud

    Round from heaven to earth down falling with heavy blow
    Dead on the Anvil, where the red hot wedge groans in pain
    He quenches it in the black trough of his Forge; Londons River
    Feeds the dread Forge, trembling & shuddering along the Valleys

    Humber & Trent roll dreadful before the Seventh Furnace
    And Tweed & Tyne anxious give up their Souls for Albions sake
    Lincolnshire Derbyshire Nottinghamshire Leicestershire
    From Oxfordshire to Norfolk on the Lake of Udan Adan
    Labour within the Furnaces, walking among the Fires
    With Ladles huge & iron Pokers over the Island white.

    Scotland pours out his Sons to labour at the Furnaces
    Wales gives his Daughters to the Looms; England: nursing Mothers
    Gives to the Children of Albion & to the Children of Jerusalem
    From the blue Mundane Shell even to the Earth of Vegetation
    Throughout the whole Creation which groans to be deliverd.
    Albion groans in the deep slumbers of Death upon his Rock.

    Here Los fixd down the Fifty-two Counties of England & Wales
    The Thirty-six of Scotland, & the Thirty-four of Ireland
    With mighty power, when they fled out at Jerusalems Gates
    Away from the Conflict of Luvah & Urizen, fixing the Gates
    In the Twelve Counties of Wales & thence Gates looking every way
    To the Four Points: conduct to England & Scotland & Ireland
    And thence to all the Kingdoms & Nations & Families of the Earth
    The Gate of Reuben in Carmarthenshire: the Gate of Simeon in
    Cardiganshire: & the Gate of Levi in Montgomeryshire
    The Gate of Judah Merionethshire: the Gate of Dan Flintshire
    The Gate of Napthali, Radnorshire: the Gate of Gad Pembrokeshire
    The Gate of Asher, Carnarvonshire the Gate of Issachar Brecknokshire
    The Gate of Zebulun, in Anglesea & Sodor. so is Wales divided.
    The Gate of Joseph, Denbighshire: the Gate of Benjamin Glamorganshire
    For the protection of the Twelve Emanations of Albions Sons

    And the Forty Counties of England are thus divided in the Gates
    Of Reuben Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex. Simeon Lincoln, York Lancashire
    Levi. Middlesex Kent Surrey. Judah Somerset Glouster Wiltshire.
    Dan. Cornwal Devon Dorset, Napthali, Warwick Leicester Worcester
    Gad. Oxford Bucks Harford. Asher, Sussex Hampshire Berkshire
    Issachar, Northampton Rutland Nottgham. Zebulun Bedford Huntgn Camb
    Joseph Stafford Shrops Heref. Benjamin, Derby Cheshire Monmouth
    And Cumberland Northumberland Westmoreland & Durham are
    Divided in the Gates of Reuben, Judah Dan & Joseph

    And the Thirty-six Counties of Scotland, divided in the Gates
    Of Reuben Kincard Haddntn Forfar, Simeon Ayr Argyll Banff

    Levi Edinburh Roxbro Ross. Judah, Abrdeen Berwik Dumfries
    Dan Bute Caitnes Clakmanan. Napthali Nairn Invernes Linlithgo
    Gad Peebles Perth Renfru. Asher Sutherlan Sterling Wigtoun
    Issachar Selkirk Dumbartn Glasgo. Zebulun Orkney Shetland Skye
    Joseph Elgin Lanerk Kinros. Benjamin Kromarty Murra Kirkubriht
    Governing all by the sweet delights of secret amorous glances
    In Enitharmons Halls builded by Los & his mighty Children

    All things acted on Earth are seen in the bright Sculptures of
    Los's Halls & every Age renews its powers from these Works
    With every pathetic story possible to happen from Hate or
    Wayward Love & every sorrow & distress is carved here
    Every Affinity of Parents Marriages & Friendships are here
    In all their various combinations wrought with wondrous Art
    All that can happen to Man in his pilgrimage of seventy years
    Such is the Divine Written Law of Horeb & Sinai:
    And such the Holy Gospel of Mount Olivet & Calvary:

    His Spectre divides & Los in fury compells it to divide:
    To labour in the fire, in the water, in the earth, in the air,
    To follow the Daughters of Albion as the hound follows the scent
    Of the wild inhabitant of the forest, to drive them from his own:
    To make a way for the Children of Los to come from the Furnaces
    But Los himself against Albions Sons his fury bends, for he
    Dare not approach the Daughters openly lest he be consumed
    In the fires of their beauty & perfection & be Vegetated beneath
    Their Looms, in a Generation of death & resurrection to forgetfulness
    They wooe Los continually to subdue his strength: he continually
    Shews them his Spectre: sending him abroad over the four points of heaven
    In the fierce desires of beauty & in the tortures of repulse! He is
    The Spectre of the Living pursuing the Emanations of the Dead.
    Shuddring they flee: they hide in the Druid Temples in cold chastity:
    Subdued by the Spectre of the Living & terrified by undisguisd desire.

    For Los said: Tho my Spectre is divided: as I am a Living Man
    I must compell him to obey me wholly: that Enitharmon may not
    Be lost: & lest he should devour Enitharmon: Ah me!
    Piteous image of my soft desires & loves: O Enitharmon!
    I will compell my Spectre to obey: I will restore to thee thy Children.
    No one bruises or starves himself to make himself fit for labour!

    Tormented with sweet desire for these beauties of Albion
    They would never love my power if they did not seek to destroy
    Enitharmon: Vala would never have sought & loved Albion
    If she had not sought to destroy Jerusalem; such is that false
    And Generating Love: a pretence of love to destroy love:

    Cruel hipocrisy unlike the lovely delusions of Beulah:
    And cruel forms, unlike the merciful forms of Beulahs Night

    They know not why they love nor wherefore they sicken & die
    Calling that Holy Love: which is Envy Revenge & Cruelty
    Which separated the stars from the mountains: the mountains from Man
    And left Man, a little grovelling Root, outside of Himself.
    Negations are not Contraries: Contraries mutually Exist:
    But Negations Exist Not: Exceptions & Objections & Unbeliefs
    Exist not: nor shall they ever be Organized for ever & ever:
    If thou separate from me, thou art a Negation: a meer
    Reasoning & Derogation from Me, an Objecting & cruel Spite
    And Malice & Envy: but my Emanation, Alas! will become
    My Contrary: O thou Negation, I will continually compell
    Thee to be invisible to any but whom I please, & when
    And where & how I please, and never! never! shalt thou be Organized
    But as a distorted & reversed Reflexion in the Darkness
    And in the Non Entity: nor shall that which is above
    Ever descend into thee: but thou shalt be a Non Entity for ever
    And if any enter into thee, thou shalt be an Unquenchable Fire
    And he shall be a never dying Worm, mutually tormented by
    Those that thou tormentest, a Hell & Despair for ever & ever.

    So Los in secret with himself communed & Enitharmon heard
    In her darkness & was comforted: yet still she divided away
    In gnawing pain from Los's bosom in the deadly Night;
    First as a red Globe of blood trembling beneath his bosom[.]
    Suspended over her he hung: he infolded her in his garments
    Of wool: he hid her from the Spectre, in shame & confusion of
    Face; in terrors & pains of Hell & Eternal Death, the
    Trembling Globe shot forth Self-living & Los howld over it:
    Feeding it with his groans & tears day & night without ceasing:
    And the Spectrous Darkness from his back divided in temptations,
    And in grinding agonies in threats! stiflings! & direful strugglings.

    Go thou to Skofield: ask him if he is Bath or if he is Canterbury
    Tell him to be no more dubious: demand explicit words
    Tell him: I will dash him into shivers, where & at what time
    I please: tell Hand & Skofield they are my ministers of evil
    To those I hate: for I can hate also as well as they!

    From every-one of the Four Regions of Human Majesty,
    There is an Outside spread Without, & an Outside spread Within
    Beyond the Outline of Identity both ways, which meet in One:
    An orbed Void of doubt, despair, hunger, & thirst & sorrow.
    Here the Twelve Sons of Albion, join'd in dark Assembly,

    Jealous of Jerusalems children, asham'd of her little-ones
    (For Vala produc'd the Bodies. Jerusalem gave the Souls)
    Became as Three Immense Wheels, turning upon one-another
    Into Non-Entity, and their thunders hoarse appall the Dead
    To murder their own Souls, to build a Kingdom among the Dead

    Cast! Cast ye Jerusalem forth! The Shadow of delusions!
    The Harlot daughter! Mother of pity and dishonourable forgiveness
    Our Father Albions sin and shame! But father now no more!
    Nor sons! nor hateful peace & love, nor soft complacencies
    With transgressors meeting in brotherhood around the table,
    Or in the porch or garden. No more the sinful delights
    Of age and youth and boy and girl and animal and herb,
    And river and mountain, and city & village, and house & family.
    Beneath the Oak & Palm, beneath the Vine and Fig-tree.
    In self-denial!—But War and deadly contention, Between
    Father and Son, and light and love! All bold asperities
    Of Haters met in deadly strife, rending the house & garden
    The unforgiving porches, the tables of enmity, and beds
    And chambers of trembling & suspition, hatreds of age & youth
    And boy & girl, & animal & herb, & river & mountain
    And city & village, and house & family. That the Perfect,
    May live in glory, redeem'd by Sacrifice of the Lamb
    And of his children, before sinful Jerusalem. To build
    Babylon the City of Vala, the Goddess Virgin-Mother.
    She is our Mother! Nature! Jerusalem is our Harlot-Sister
    Return'd with Children of pollution, to defile our House,
    With Sin and Shame. Cast! Cast her into the Potters field.
    Her little-ones, She must slay upon our Altars: and her aged
    Parents must be carried into captivity, to redeem her Soul
    To be for a Shame & a Curse, and to be our Slaves for ever

    So cry Hand & Hyle the eldest of the fathers of Albions
    Little-ones; to destroy the Divine Saviour; the Friend of Sinners,
    Building Castles in desolated places, and strong Fortifications.
    Soon Hand mightily devour'd & absorb'd Albions Twelve Sons.
    Out from his bosom a mighty Polypus, vegetating in darkness,
    And Hyle & Coban were his two chosen ones, for Emissaries
    In War: forth from his bosom they went and return'd.
    Like Wheels from a great Wheel reflected in the Deep.
    Hoarse turn'd the Starry Wheels, rending a way in Albions Loins
    Beyond the Night of Beulah. In a dark & unknown Night,
    Outstretch'd his Giant beauty on the ground in pain & tears:

    His Children exil'd from his breast pass to and fro before him
    His birds are silent on his hills, flocks die beneath his branches

    His tents are fall'n! his trumpets, and the sweet sound of his harp
    Are silent on his clouded hills, that belch forth storms & fire.
    His milk of Cows, & honey of Bees, & fruit of golden harvest,
    Is gather'd in the scorching heat, & in the driving rain:
    Where once he sat he weary walks in misery and pain:
    His giant beauty and perfection fallen into dust:
    Till from within his witherd breast grown narrow with his woes:
    The corn is turn'd to thistles & the apples into poison:
    The birds of song to murderous crows, his joys to bitter groans!
    The voices of children in his tents, to cries of helpless infants!
    And self-exiled from the face of light & shine of morning,
    In the dark world a narrow house! he wanders up and down,
    Seeking for rest and finding none! and hidden far within,
    His Eon weeping in the cold and desolated Earth.

    All his Affections now appear withoutside: all his Sons,
    Hand, Hyle & Coban, Guantok, Peachey, Brereton, Slayd & Hutton,
    Scofeld, Kox, Kotope & Bowen; his Twelve Sons: Satanic Mill!
    Who are the Spectres of the Twentyfour, each Double-form'd:
    Revolve upon his mountains groaning in pain: beneath
    The dark incessant sky, seeking for rest and finding none:
    Raging against their Human natures, ravning to gormandize
    The Human majesty and beauty of the Twentyfour.
    Condensing them into solid rocks with cruelty and abhorrence
    Suspition & revenge, & the seven diseases of the Soul
    Settled around Albion and around Luvah in his secret cloud[.]
    Willing the Friends endur'd, for Albions sake, and for
    Jerusalem his Emanation shut within his bosom;
    Which hardend against them more and more; as he builded onwards
    On the Gulph of Death in self-righteousness, that roll'd
    Before his awful feet, in pride of virtue for victory:
    And Los was roofd in from Eternity in Albions Cliffs
    Which stand upon the ends of Beulah, and withoutside, all
    Appear'd a rocky form against the Divine Humanity.

    Albions Circumference was clos'd: his Center began darkning
    Into the Night of Beulah, and the Moon of Beulah rose
    Clouded with storms: Los his strong Guard walkd round beneath the Moon
    And Albion flee inward among the currents of his rivers.

    He found Jerusalem upon the River of his City soft repos'd
    In the arms of Vala, assimilating in one with Vala
    The Lilly of Havilah: and they sang soft thro' Lambeths vales,
    In a sweet moony night & silence that they had created
    With a blue sky spread over with wings and a mild moon,
    Dividing & uniting into many female forms: Jerusalem

    Trembling! then in one comingling in eternal tears,
    Sighing to melt his Giant beauty, on the moony river.

    But when they saw Albion fall'n upon mild Lambeths vale:
    Astonish'd! Terrified! they hover'd over his Giant limbs.
    Then thus Jerusalem spoke, while Vala wove the veil of tears:
    Weeping in pleadings of Love, in the web of despair.

    Wherefore hast thou shut me into the winter of human life
    And clos'd up the sweet regions of youth and virgin innocence:
    Where we live, forgetting error, not pondering on evil:
    Among my lambs & brooks of water, among my warbling birds:
    Where we delight in innocence before the face of the Lamb:
    Going in and out before him in his love and sweet affection.

    Vala replied weeping & trembling, hiding in her veil.

    When winter rends the hungry family and the snow falls:
    Upon the ways of men hiding the paths of man and beast,
    Then mourns the wanderer: then he repents his wanderings & eyes
    The distant forest; then the slave groans in the dungeon of stone.
    The captive in the mill of the stranger, sold for scanty hire.
    They view their former life: they number moments over and over;
    Stringing them on their remembrance as on a thread of sorrow.
    Thou art my sister and my daughter! thy shame is mine also!
    Ask me not of my griefs! thou knowest all my griefs.

    Jerusalem answer'd with soft tears over the valleys.

    O Vala what is Sin? that thou shudderest and weepest
    At sight of thy once lov'd Jerusalem! What is Sin but a little
    Error & fault that is soon forgiven; but mercy is not a Sin
    Nor pity nor love nor kind forgiveness! O! if I have Sinned
    Forgive & pity me! O! unfold thy Veil in mercy & love!
    Slay not my little ones, beloved Virgin daughter of Babylon
    Slay not my infant loves & graces, beautiful daughter of Moab
    I cannot put off the human form I strive but strive in vain
    When Albion rent thy beautiful net of gold and silver twine;
    Thou hadst woven it with art, thou hadst caught me in the bands
    Of love; thou refusedst to let me go: Albion beheld thy beauty
    Beautiful thro' our Love's comeliness, beautiful thro' pity.
    The Veil shone with thy brightness in the eyes of Albion,
    Because it inclosd pity & love; because we lov'd one-another!
    Albion lov'd thee! he rent thy Veil! he embrac'd thee! he lov'd thee!
    Astonish'd at his beauty & perfection, thou forgavest his furious love:
    I redounded from Albions bosom in my virgin loveliness.
    The Lamb of God reciev'd me in his arms he smil'd upon us:

    He made me his Bride & Wife: he gave thee to Albion.
    Then was a time of love: O why is it passed away!

    Then Albion broke silence and with groans reply'd

    O Vala! O Jerusalem! do you delight in my groans
    You O lovely forms, you have prepared my death-cup:
    The disease of Shame covers me from head to feet: I have no hope
    Every boil upon my body is a separate & deadly Sin.
    Doubt first assaild me, then Shame took possession of me
    Shame divides Families. Shame hath divided Albion in sunder!
    First fled my Sons, & then my Daughters, then my Wild Animations
    My Cattle next, last ev'n the Dog of my Gate. the Forests fled
    The Corn-fields, & the breathing Gardens outside separated
    The Sea; the Stars: the Sun: the Moon: drivn forth by my disease
    All is Eternal Death unless you can weave a chaste
    Body over an unchaste Mind! Vala! O that thou wert pure!
    That the deep wound of Sin might be clos'd up with the Needle,
    And with the Loom: to cover Gwendolen & Ragan with costly Robes
    Of Natural Virtue, for their Spiritual forms without a Veil
    Wither in Luvahs Sepulcher. I thrust him from my presence
    And all my Children followd his loud howlings into the Deep.
    Jerusalem! dissembler Jerusalem! I look into thy bosom:
    I discover thy secret places: Cordella! I behold
    Thee whom I thought pure as the heavens in innocence & fear:
    Thy Tabernacle taken down, thy secret Cherubim disclosed
    Art thou broken? Ah me Sabrina, running by my side:
    In childhood what wert thou? unutterable anguish! Conwenna
    Thy cradled infancy is most piteous. O hide, O hide!
    Their secret gardens were made paths to the traveller:
    I knew not of their secret loves with those I hated most,
    Nor that their every thought was Sin & secret appetite
    Hyle sees in fear, he howls in fury over them, Hand sees
    In jealous fear: in stern accusation with cruel stripes
    He drives them thro' the Streets of Babylon before my face:
    Because they taught Luvah to rise into my clouded heavens
    Battersea and Chelsea mourn for Cambel & Gwendolen!
    Hackney and Holloway sicken for Estrild & Ignoge!
    Because the Peak, Malvern & Cheviot Reason in Cruelty
    Penmaenmawr & Dhinas-bran Demonstrate in Unbelief
    Manchester & Liverpool are in tortures of Doubt & Despair
    Malden & Colchester Demonstrate: I hear my Childrens voices
    I see their piteous faces gleam out upon the cruel winds
    From Lincoln & Norwich, from Edinburgh & Monmouth:
    I see them distant from my bosom scoured along the roads
    Then lost in clouds; I hear their tender voices! clouds divide

    I see them die beneth the whips of the Captains! they are taken
    In solemn pomp into Chaldea across the bredths of Europe
    Six months they lie embalmd in Silent death: warshipped
    Carried in Arks of Oak before the armies in the spring
    Bursting their Arks they rise again to life: they play before
    The Armies: I hear their loud cymbals & their deadly cries
    Are the Dead cruel? are those who are infolded in moral Law
    Revengeful? O that Death & Annihilation were the same!
    Then Vala answerd spreading her scarlet Veil over Albion

    Albion thy fear has made me tremble; thy terrors have surrounded me
    Thy Sons have naild me on the Gates piercing my hands & feet:
    Till Skofields Nimrod the mighty Huntsman Jehovah came,
    With Cush his Son & took me down. He in a golden Ark,
    Bears me before his Armies tho my shadow hovers here
    The flesh of multitudes fed & nouris[h]d me in my childhood
    My morn & evening food were prepard in Battles of Men
    Great is the cry of the Hounds of Nimrod along the Valley
    Of Vision, they scent the odor of War in the Valley of Vision.
    All Love is lost! terror succeeds & Hatred instead of Love
    And stern demands of Right & Duty instead of Liberty
    Once thou wast to me the loveliest Son of heaven; but now
    Where shall I hide from thy dread countenance & searching eyes
    I have looked into the secret Soul of him I loved
    And in the dark recesses found Sin & can never return.

    Albion again utterd his voice beneath the silent Moon

    I brought Love into light of day to pride in chaste beauty
    I brought Love into light & fancied Innocence is no more

    Then spoke Jerusalem O Albion! my Father Albion
    Why wilt thou number every little fibre of my Soul
    Spreading them out before the Sun like stalks of flax to dry?
    The Infant Joy is beautiful, but its anatomy
    Horrible hast & deadly! nought shalt thou find in it
    But dark despair & everlasting brooding melancholy!

    Then Albion turnd his face toward Jerusalem & spoke

    Hide thou Jerusalem in impalpable voidness, not to be
    Touchd by the hand nor seen with the eye: O Jerusalem
    Would thou wert not & that thy place might never be found
    But come O Vala with knife & cup: drain my blood
    To the last drop! then hide me in thy Scarlet Tabernacle

    21:44 warshipped] perhaps a scribal error for "worshipped"; but see textual
    note.

    For I see Luvah whom I slew. I behold him in my Spectre
    As I behold Jerusalem in thee O Vala dark and cold

    Jerusalem then stretchd her hand toward the Moon & spoke

    Why should Punishment Weave the Veil with Iron Wheels of War
    When Forgiveness might it Weave with Wings of Cherubim

    Loud groand Albion from mountain to mountain & replied

    Jerusalem! Jerusalem! deluding shadow of Albion!
    Daughter of my phantasy! unlawful pleasure! Albions curse!
    I came here with intention to annihilate thee! But
    My soul is melted away, inwoven within the Veil
    Hast thou again knitted the Veil of Vala, which I for thee
    Pitying rent in ancient times. I see it whole and more
    Perfect, and shining with beauty! But thou! O wretched Father!

    Jerusalem reply'd, like a voice heard from a sepulcher:
    Father! once piteous! Is Pity. a Sin? Embalm'd in Vala's bosom
    In an Eternal Death for. Albions sake, our best beloved.
    Thou art my Father & my Brother: Why hast thou hidden me,
    Remote from the divine Vision: my Lord and Saviour.

    Trembling stood Albion at her words in jealous dark despair:
    He felt that Love and Pity are the same; a soft repose!
    Inward complacency of Soul: a Self-annihilation!

    I have erred! I am ashamed! and will never return more:
    I have taught my children sacrifices of cruelty: what shall I answer?
    I will hide it from Eternals! I will give myself for my Children!
    Which way soever I turn, I behold Humanity and Pity!

    He recoil'd: he rush'd outwards; he bore the Veil whole away
    His fires redound from his Dragon Altars in Errors returning.
    He drew the Veil of Moral Virtue, woven for Cruel Laws,
    And cast it into the Atlantic Deep, to catch the Souls of the Dead.
    He stood between the Palm tree & the Oak of weeping
    Which stand upon the edge of Beulah; and there Albion sunk
    Down in sick pallid languor! These were his last words, relapsing!
    Hoarse from his rocks, from caverns of Derbyshire & Wales
    And Scotland, utter'd from the Circumference into Eternity.

    Blasphemous Sons of Feminine delusion! God in the dreary Void
    Dwells from Eternity, wide separated from the Human Soul
    But thou deluding Image by whom imbu'd the Veil I rent
    Lo here is Valas Veil whole, for a Law, a Terror & a Curse!
    And therefore God takes vengeance on me: from my clay-cold bosom
    My children wander trembling victims of his Moral Justice.

    His snows fall on me and cover me, while in the Veil I fold
    My dying limbs. Therefore O Manhood, if thou art aught
    But a meer Phantasy, hear dying Albions Curse!
    May God who dwells in this dark Ulro & voidness, vengeance take,
    And draw thee down into this Abyss of sorrow and torture,
    Like me thy Victim. O that Death & Annihilation were the same!

    What have I said? What have I done? O all-powerful Human Words!
    You recoil back upon me in the blood of the Lamb slain in his Children.
    Two bleeding Contraries equally true, are his Witnesses against me
    We reared mighty Stones: we danced naked around them:
    Thinking to bring Love into light of day, to Jerusalems shame:
    Displaying our Giant limbs to all the winds of heaven! Sudden
    Shame siezd us, we could not look on one-another for abhorrence: the Blue
    Of our immortal Veins & all their Hosts fled from our Limbs,
    And wanderd distant in a dismal Night clouded & dark:
    The Sun fled from the Britons forehead: the Moon from his mighty loins:
    Scandinavia fled with all his mountains filld with groans.

    O what is Life & what is Man. O what is Death? Wherefore
    Are you my Children, natives in the Grave to where I go
    Or are you born to feed the hungry ravenings of Destruction
    To be the sport of Accident! to waste in Wrath & Love, a weary
    Life, in brooding cares & anxious labours, that prove but chaff.
    O Jerusalem Jerusalem I have forsaken thy Courts
    Thy Pillars of ivory & gold: thy Curtains of silk & fine
    Linen: thy Pavements of precious stones: thy Walls of pearl
    And gold, thy Gates of Thanksgiving thy Windows of Praise:
    Thy Clouds of Blessing; thy Cherubims of Tender-mercy
    Stretching their Wings sublime over the Little-ones of Albion
    O Human Imagination O Divine Body I have Crucified
    I have turned my back upon thee into the Wastes of Moral Law:
    There Babylon is builded in the Waste, founded in Human desolation.
    O Babylon thy Watchman stands over thee in the night
    Thy severe Judge all the day long proves thee O Babylon
    With provings of destruction, with giving thee thy hearts desire.
    But Albion is cast forth to the Potter his Children to the Builders
    To build Babylon because they have forsaken Jerusalem
    The Walls of Babylon are Souls of Men: her Gates the Groans
    Of Nations: her Towers are the Miseries of once happy Families.
    Her Streets are paved with Destruction, her Houses built with Death
    Her Palaces with Hell & the Grave; her Synagogues with Torments
    Of ever-hardening Despair squard & polishd with cruel skill

    Yet thou wast lovely as the summer cloud upon my hills
    When Jerusalem was thy hearts desire in times of youth & love.
    Thy Sons came to Jerusalem with gifts, she sent them away
    With blessings on their hands & on their feet, blessings of gold,
    And pearl & diamond: thy Daughters sang in her Courts:
    They came up to Jerusalem; they walked before Albion
    In the Exchanges of London every Nation walkd
    And London walkd in every Nation mutual in love & harmony
    Albion coverd the whole Earth, England encompassd the Nations,
    Mutual each within others bosom in Visions of Regeneration;
    Jerusalem coverd the Atlantic Mountains & the Erythrean,
    From bright Japan & China to Hesperia France & England.
    Mount Zion lifted his head in every Nation under heaven:
    And the Mount of Olives was beheld over the whole Earth:
    The footsteps of the Lamb of God were there: but now no more
    No more shall I behold him, he is closd in Luvahs Sepulcher.
    Yet why these smitings of Luvah, the gentlest mildest Zoa?
    If God was Merciful this could not be: O Lamb of God
    Thou art a delusion and Jerusalem is my Sin! O my Children
    I have educated you in the crucifying cruelties of Demonstration
    Till you have assum'd the Providence of God & slain your Father
    Dost thou appear before me who liest dead in Luvahs Sepulcher
    Dost thou forgive me! thou who wast Dead & art Alive?
    Look not so Merciful upon me O thou Slain Lamb of God
    I die! I die in thy arms tho Hope is banishd from me.

    Thundring the Veil rushes from his hand Vegetating Knot by
    Knot, Day by Day, Night by Night; loud roll the indignant Atlantic
    Waves & the Erythrean, turning up the bottoms of the Deeps

    And there was heard a great lamenting in Beulah: all the Regions
    Of Beulah were moved as the tender bowels are moved: & they said:

    Why did you take Vengeance O ye Sons of the mighty Albion?
    Planting these Oaken Groves: Erecting these Dragon Temples
    Injury the Lord heals but Vengeance cannot be healed:
    As the Sons of Albion have done to Luvah: so they have in him
    Done to the Divine Lord & Saviour, who suffers with those that suffer:
    For not one sparrow can suffer, & the whole Universe not suffer also,
    In all its Regions, & its Father & Saviour not pity and weep.
    But Vengeance is the destroyer of Grace & Repentance in the bosom
    Of the Injurer: in which the Divine Lamb is cruelly slain:
    Descend O Lamb of God & take away the imputation of Sin
    By the Creation of States & the deliverance of Individuals Evermore Amen

    Thus wept they in Beulah over the Four Regions of Albion
    But many doubted & despaird & imputed Sin & Righteousness
    To Individuals & not to States, and these Slept in Ulro.

    SUCH VISIONS HAVE APPEARD TO ME
    AS I MY ORDERD RACE HAVE RUN
    JERUSALEM IS NAMED LIBERTY
    AMONG THE SONS OF ALBION

    To the Jews.

    Jerusalem the Emanation of the Giant Albion! Can it be? Is it a
    Truth that the Learned have explored? Was Britain the Primitive
    Seat of the Patriarchal Religion? If it is true: my title-page is
    also True, that Jerusalem was & is the Emanation of the Giant
    Albion. It is True, and cannot be controverted. Ye are united O
    ye Inhabitants of Earth in One Religion. The Religion of Jesus:
    the most Ancient, the Eternal: & the Everlasting Gospel—The
    Wicked will turn it to Wickedness,
    the Righteous to Righteousness. Amen! Huzza! Selah!
    "All things Begin & End in Albions Ancient Druid Rocky Shore."

    Your Ancestors derived their origin from Abraham, Heber, Shem,
    and Noah, who were Druids: as the Druid Temples (which are the
    Patriarchal Pillars & Oak Groves) over the whole Earth witness to
    this day.
    You have a tradition, that Man anciently containd in his mighty
    limbs all things in Heaven & Earth: this you recieved from the
    Druids.
    "But now the Starry Heavens are fled from the mighty limbs of
    Albion"

    Albion was the Parent of the Druids; & in his Chaotic State of
    Sleep Satan & Adam & the whole World was Created by the Elohim.

    The fields from Islington to Marybone,
    To Primrose Hill and Saint Johns Wood:
    Were builded over with pillars of gold,
    And there Jerusalems pillars stood.

    Her Little-ones ran on the fields
    The Lamb of God among them seen
    And fair Jerusalem his Bride:
    Among the little meadows green.

    Pancrass & Kentish-town repose
    Among her golden pillars high:
    Among her golden arches which
    Shine upon the starry sky.

    The Jews-harp-house & the Green Man;
    The Ponds where Boys to bathe delight:
    The fields of Cows by Willans farm:
    Shine in Jerusalems pleasant sight.

    She walks upon our meadows green:
    The Lamb of God walks by her side:
    And every English Child is seen,
    Children of Jesus & his Bride,

    Forgiving trespasses and sins
    Lest Babylon with cruel Og,
    With Moral & Self-righteous Law
    Should Crucify in Satans Synagogue!

    What are those golden Builders doing
    Near mournful ever-weeping Paddington
    Standing above that mighty Ruin
    Where Satan the first victory won.

    Where Albion slept beneath the Fatal Tree
    And the Druids golden Knife,
    Rioted in human gore,
    In Offerings of Human Life

    They groan'd aloud on London Stone
    They groand aloud on Tyburns Brook
    Albion gave his deadly groan,
    And all the Atlantic Mountains shook

    Albions Spectre from his Loins
    Tore forth in all the pomp of War!
    Satan his name: in flames of fire
    He stretch'd his Druid Pillars far.

    Jerusalem fell from Lambeth's Vale,
    Down thro Poplar & Old Bow;
    Thro Malden & acros the Sea,
    In War & howling death & woe.

    The Rhine was red with human blood:
    The Danube rolld a purple tide:
    On the Euphrates Satan stood:
    And over Asia stretch'd his pride.

    He witherd up sweet Zions Hill,
    From every Nation of the Earth:
    He witherd up Jerusalems Gates,
    And in a dark Land gave her birth.

    He witherd up the Human Form,
    By laws of sacrifice for sin:
    Till it became a Mortal Worm:
    But O! translucent all within.

    The Divine Vision still was seen
    Still was the Human Form, Divine
    Weeping in weak & mortal clay
    O Jesus still the Form was thine.

    And thine the Human Face & thine
    The Human Hands & Feet & Breath
    Entering thro' the Gates of Birth
    And passing thro' the Gates of Death

    And O thou Lamb of God, whom I
    Slew in my dark self-righteous pride:
    Art thou return'd to Albions Land!
    And is Jerusalem thy Bride?

    Come to my arms & never more
    Depart; but dwell for ever here:
    Create my Spirit to thy Love:
    Subdue my Spectre to thy Fear,

    Spectre of Albion! warlike Fiend!
    In clouds of blood & ruin roll'd:
    I here reclaim thee as my own
    My Selfhood! Satan! armd in gold.

    Is this thy soft Family-Love
    Thy cruel Patriarchal pride
    Planting thy Family alone
    Destroying all the World beside.

    A mans worst enemies are those
    Of his own house & family;
    And he who makes his law a curse,
    By his own law shall surely die.

    In my Exchanges every Land
    Shall walk, & mine in every Land,
    Mutual shall build Jerusalem:
    Both heart in heart & hand in hand.

    If Humility is Christianity; you O Jews are the true
    Christians; If your tradition that Man contained in his Limbs,
    all Animals, is True & they were separated from him by cruel
    Sacrifices: and when compulsory cruel Sacrifices had brought
    Humanity into a Feminine Tabernacle, in the loins of Abraham &
    David: the Lamb of God, the Saviour became apparent on Earth as
    the Prophets had foretold? The Return of Israel is a Return to
    Mental Sacrifice & War. Take up the Cross O Israel & follow Jesus.

    Chap: 2.

    Every ornament of perfection, and every labour of love,
    In all the Garden of Eden, & in all the golden mountains
    Was become an envied horror, and a remembrance of jealousy:
    And every Act a Crime, and Albion the punisher & judge.

    And Albion spoke from his secret seat and said

    All these ornaments are crimes, they are made by the labours
    Of loves: of unnatural consanguinities and friendships
    Horrid to think of when enquired deeply into; and all
    These hills & valleys are accursed witnesses of Sin
    I therefore condense them into solid rocks, stedfast!
    A foundation and certainty and demonstrative truth:
    That Man be separate from Man, & here I plant my seat.

    Cold snows drifted around him: ice coverd his loins around
    He sat by Tyburns brook, and underneath his heel, shot up!
    A deadly Tree, he nam'd it Moral Virtue, and the Law
    Of God who dwells in Chaos hidden from the human sight.

    The Tree spread over him its cold shadows, (Albion groand)
    They bent don, they felt the earth and again enrooting
    Shot into many a Tree! an endless labyrinth of woe!

    From willing sacrifice of Self, to sacrifice of (miscall'd) Enemies
    For Atonement: Albion began to erect twelve Altars,
    Of rough unhewn rocks, before the Potters Furnace
    He nam'd them Justice, and Truth. And Albions Sons
    Must have become the first Victims, being the first transgressors
    But they fled to the mountains to seek ransom: building A Strong
    Fortification against the Divine Humanity and Mercy,
    In Shame & Jealousy to annihilate Jerusalem!

    Turning his back to the Divine Vision, his Spectrous
    Chaos before his face appeard: an Unformed Memory.

    Then spoke the Spectrous Chaos to Albion darkning cold
    From the back & loins where dwell the Spectrous Dead

    I am your Rational Power O Albion & that Human Form
    You call Divine, is but a Worm seventy inches long
    That creeps forth in a night & is dried in the morning sun
    In fortuitous concourse of memorys accumulated & lost
    It plows the Earth in its own conceit, it overwhelms the Hills
    Beneath its winding labyrinths, till a stone of the brook
    Stops it in midst of its pride among its hills & rivers[.]
    Battersea & Chelsea mourn, London & Canterbury tremble
    Their place shall not be found as the wind passes over[.]
    The ancient Cities of the Earth remove as a traveller
    And shall Albions Cities remain when I pass over them
    With my deluge of forgotten remembrances over the tablet

    So spoke the Spectre to Albion. he is the Great Selfhood
    Satan: Worshipd as God by the Mighty Ones of the Earth
    Having a white Dot calld a Center from which branches out
    A Circle in continual gyrations. this became a Heart
    From which sprang numerous branches varying their motions
    Producing many Heads three or seven or ten, & hands & feet
    Innumerable at will of the unfortunate contemplator
    Who becomes his food[:] such is the way of the Devouring Power

    And this is the cause of the appearance in the frowning Chaos[.]
    Albions Emanation which he had hidden in Jealousy
    Appeard now in the frowning Chaos prolific upon the Chaos
    Reflecting back to Albion in Sexual Reasoning Hermaphroditic

    Albion spoke. Who art thou that appearest in gloomy pomp
    Involving the Divine Vision in colours of autumn ripeness
    I never saw thee till this time, nor beheld life abstracted
    Nor darkness immingled with light on my furrowd field
    Whence camest thou! who art thou O loveliest? the Divine Vision
    Is as nothing before thee, faded is all life and joy

    Vala replied in clouds of tears Albions garment embracing

    I was a City & a Temple built by Albions Children.
    I was a Garden planted with beauty I allured on hill & valley
    The River of Life to flow against my walls & among my trees
    Vala was Albions Bride & Wife in great Eternity
    The loveliest of the daughters of Eternity when in day-break

    I emanated from Luvah over the Towers of Jerusalem
    And in her Courts among her little Children offering up
    The Sacrifice of fanatic love! why loved I Jerusalem!
    Why was I one with her embracing in the Vision of Jesus
    Wherefore did I loving create love, which never yet
    Immingled God & Man, when thou & I, hid the Divine Vision
    In cloud of secret gloom which behold involve me round about
    Know me now Albion: look upon me I alone am Beauty
    The Imaginative Human Form is but a breathing of Vala
    I breathe him forth into the Heaven from my secret Cave
    Born of the Woman to obey the Woman O Albion the mighty
    For the Divine appearance is Brotherhood, but I am Love

    Elevate into the Region of Brotherhood with my red fires

    Art thou Vala? replied Albion, image of my repose
    O how I tremble! how my members pour down milky fear!
    A dewy garment covers me all over, all manhood is gone!
    At thy word & at thy look death enrobes me about
    From head to feet, a garment of death & eternal fear
    Is not that Sun thy husband & that Moon thy glimmering Veil?
    Are not the Stars of heaven thy Children! art thou not Babylon?
    Art thou Nature Mother of all! is Jerusalem thy Daughter
    Why have thou elevate inward: O dweller of outward chambers
    From grot & cave beneath the Moon dim region of death
    Where I laid my Plow in the hot noon, where my hot team fed
    Where implements of War are forged, the Plow to go over the Nations
    In pain girding me round like a rib of iron in heaven! O Vala
    In Eternity they neither marry nor are given in marriage
    Albion the high Cliff of the Atlantic is become a barren Land

    Los stood at his Anvil: he heard the contentions of Vala—
    He heavd his thundring Bellows upon the valleys of Middlesex
    He opend his Furnaces before Vala, then Albion frownd in anger
    On his Rock: ere yet the Starry Heavens were fled away
    From his awful Members, and thus Los cried aloud
    To the Sons of Albion & to Hand the eldest Son of Albion

    I hear the screech of Childbirth loud pealing, & the groans
    Of Death, in Albions clouds dreadful utterd over all the Earth
    What may Man be? who can tell! but what may Woman be?
    To have power over Man from Cradle to corruptible Grave.
    There is a Throne in every Man, it is the Throne of God
    This Woman has claimd as her own & Man is no more!
    Albion is the Tabernacle of Vala & her Temple
    And not the Tabernacle & Temple of the Most High
    O Albion why wilt thou Create a Female Will?

    To hide the most evident God in a hidden covert, even
    In the shadows of a Woman & a secluded Holy Place
    That we may pry after him as after a stolen treasure
    Hidden among the Dead & mured up from the paths of life
    Hand! art thou not Reuben enrooting thyself into Bashan
    Till thou remainest a vaporous Shadow in a Void! O Merlin!
    Unknown among the Dead where never before Existence came
    Is this the Female Will O ye lovely Daughters of Albion. To
    Converse concerning Weight & Distance in the Wilds of Newton & Locke

    So Los spoke standing on Mam-Tor looking over Europe & Asia
    The Graves thunder beneath his feet from Ireland to Japan

    Reuben slept in Bashan like one dead in the valley
    Cut off from Albions mountains & from all the Earths summits
    Between Succoth & Zaretan beside the Stone of Bohan
    While the Daughters of Albion divided Luvah into three Bodies
    Los bended his Nostrils down to the Earth, then sent him over
    Jordan to the Land of the Hittite: every-one that saw him
    Fled! they fled at his horrible Form: they hid in caves
    And dens, they looked on one-another & became what they beheld

    Reuben return'd to Bashan, in despair he slept on the Stone.
    Then Gwendolen divided into Rahab & Tirza in Twelve Portions[.]
    Los rolled, his Eyes into two narrow circles, then sent him
    Over Jordan; all terrified fled: they became what they beheld.

    If Perceptive Organs vary: Objects of Perception seem to vary:
    If the Perceptive Organs close: their Objects seem to close also:
    Consider this O mortal Man! O worm of sixty winters said Los
    Consider Sexual Organization & hide thee in the dust.

    Then the Divine hand found the Two Limits, Satan and Adam,
    In Albions bosom: for in every Human bosom those Limits stand.
    And the Divine voice came from the Furnaces, as multitudes without
    Number! the voices of the innumerable multitudes of Eternity.
    And the appearance of a Man was seen in the Furnaces;
    Saving those who have sinned from the punishment of the Law,
    (In pity of the punisher whose state is eternal death,)
    And keeping them from Sin by the mild counsels of his love.

    Albion goes to Eternal Death: In Me all Eternity.
    Must pass thro' condemnation, and awake beyond the Grave!
    No individual can keep these Laws, for they are death
    To every energy of man, and forbid the springs of life;
    Albion hath enterd the State Satan! Be permanent O State!
    And be thou for ever accursed! that Albion may arise again:

    And be thou created into a State! I go forth to Create
    States: to deliver Individuals evermore! Amen.

    So spoke the voice from the Furnaces, descending into Non-Entity
    [To Govern the Evil by Good: and States abolish Systems. ]

    Reuben return'd to his place, in vain he sought beautiful Tirzah
    For his Eyelids were narrowd, & his Nostrils scented the ground
    And Sixty Winters Los raged in the Divisions of Reuben:
    Building the Moon of Ulro, plank by plank & rib by rib
    Reuben slept in the Cave of Adam, and Los folded his Tongue
    Between Lips of mire & clay, then sent him forth over Jordan
    In the love of Tirzah he said Doubt is my food day & night—
    All that beheld him fled howling and gnawed their tongues
    For pain: they became what they beheld[.] In reasonings Reuben returned
    To Heshbon. disconsolate he walkd thro Moab & he stood
    Before the Furnaces of Los in a horrible dreamful slumber,
    On Mount Gilead looking toward Gilgal: and Los bended
    His Ear in a spiral circle outward; then sent him over Jordan.

    The Seven Nations fled before him they became what they beheld
    Hand, Hyle & Coban fled: they became what they beheld
    Gwantock & Peachy hid in Damascus beneath Mount Lebanon
    Brereton & Slade in Egypt. Hutton & Skofeld & Kox
    Fled over Chaldea in terror in pains in every nerve
    Kotope & Bowen became what they beheld, fleeing over the Earth
    And the Twelve Female Emanations fled with them agonizing.

    Jerusalem trembled seeing her Children drivn by Los's Hammer
    In the visions of the dreams of Beulah on the edge of Non-Entity
    Hand stood between Reuben & Merlin, as the Reasoning Spectre
    Stands between the Vegetative Man & his Immortal Imagination

    And the Four Zoa's clouded rage East & West & North & South
    They change their situations, in the Universal Man.
    Albion groans, he sees the Elements divide before his face.
    And England who is Brittannia divided into Jerusalem & Vala
    And Urizen assumes the East, Luvah assumes the South
    In his dark Spectre ravening from his open Sepulcher

    And the Four Zoa's who are the Four Eternal Senses of Man
    Became Four Elements separating from the Limbs of Albion
    These are their names in the Vegetative Generation
    [West Weighing East & North dividing Generation South bounding]
    And Accident & Chance were found hidden in Length Bredth & Highth
    And they divided into Four ravening deathlike Forms
    Fairies & Genii & Nymphs & Gnomes of the Elements.
    These are States Permanently Fixed by the Divine Power

    The Atlantic Continent sunk round Albions cliffy shore
    And the Sea poured in amain upon the Giants of Albion
    As Los bended the Senses of Reuben Reuben is Merlin
    Exploring the Three States of Ulro; Creation; Redemption. & Judgment

    And many of the Eternal Ones laughed after their manner

    Have you known the judgment that is arisen among the
    Zoa's of Albion? where a Man dare hardly to embrace
    His own Wife, for the terrors of Chastity that they call
    By the name of Morality. their Daughters govern all
    I hidden deceit! they are Vegetable only fit for burning
    Art & Science cannot exist but by Naked Beauty displayd

    Then those in Great Eternity who contemplate on Death
    Said thus. What seems to Be: Is: To those to whom
    It seems to Be, & is productive of the most dreadful
    Consequences to those to whom it seems to Be: even of
    Torments, Despair, Eternal Death; but the Divine Mercy
    Steps beyond and Redeems Man in the Body of Jesus Amen
    And Length Bredth Highth again Obey the Divine Vision Hallelujah

    And One stood forth from the Divine Family &,said

    I feel my Spectre rising upon me! Albion! arouze thyself!
    Why dost thou thunder with frozen Spectrous wrath against us?
    The Spectre is, in Giant Man; insane, and most deform'd.
    Thou wilt certainly provoke my Spectre against thine in fury!
    He has a Sepulcher hewn out of a Rock ready for thee:
    And a Death of Eight thousand years forg'd by thyself, upon
    The point of his Spear! if thou persistest to forbid with Laws
    Our Emanations, and to attack our secret supreme delights

    So Los spoke: But when he saw blue death in Albions feet,
    Again he join'd the Divine Body, following merciful;
    While Albion fled more indignant! revengeful covering

    His face and bosom with petrific hardness, and his hands
    And feet, lest any should enter his bosom & embrace
    His hidden heart; his Emanation wept & trembled within him:
    Uttering not his jealousy, but hiding it as with
    Iron and steel, dark and opake, with clouds & tempests brooding:
    His strong limbs shudderd upon his mountains high and dark.

    Turning from Universal Love petrific as he went,
    His cold against the warmth of Eden rag'd with loud
    Thunders of deadly war (the fever of the human soul)
    Fires and clouds of rolling smoke! but mild the Saviour follow'd him,

    Displaying the Eternal Vision! the Divine Similitude!
    In loves and tears of brothers, sisters, sons, fathers, and friends
    Which if Man ceases to behold, he ceases to exist:

    Saying. Albion! Our wars are wars of life, & wounds of love,
    With intellectual spears, & long winged arrows of thought:
    Mutual in one anothers love and wrath all renewing
    We live as One Man; for contracting our infinite senses
    We behold multitude; or expanding: we behold as one,
    As One Man all the Universal Family; and that One Man
    We call Jesus the Christ: and he in us, and we in him,
    Live in perfect harmony in Eden the land of life,
    Giving, recieving, and forgiving each others trespasses.
    He is the Good shepherd, he is the Lord and master:
    He is the Shepherd of Albion, he is all in all,
    In Eden: in the garden of God: and in heavenly Jerusalem.
    If we have offended, forgive us, take not vengeance against us.

    Thus speaking; the Divine Family follow Albion:
    I see them in the Vision of God upon my pleasant valleys.

    I behold London; a Human awful wonder of God!
    He says: Return, Albion, return! I give myself for thee:
    My Streets are my, Ideas of Imagination.
    Awake Albion, awake! and let us awake up together.
    My Houses are Thoughts: my Inhabitants; Affections,
    The children of my thoughts, walking within my blood-vessels,
    Shut from my nervous form which sleeps upon the verge of Beulah
    In dreams of darkness, while my vegetating blood in veiny pipes,
    Rolls dreadful thro' the Furnaces of Los, and the Mills of Satan.
    For Albions sake, and for Jerusalem thy Emanation
    I give myself, and these my brethren give themselves for Albion.

    So spoke London, immortal Guardian! I heard in Lambeths shades:
    In Felpham I heard and saw the Visions of Albion
    I write in South Molton Street what I both see and hear
    In regions of Humanity, in Londons opening streets.

    I see thee awful Parent Land in light, behold I see!
    Verulam! Canterbury! venerable parent of men,
    Generous immortal Guardian golden clad! for Cities
    Are Men, fathers of multitudes, and Rivers & Mount[a]ins
    Are also Men; every thing is Human, mighty! sublime!
    In every bosom a Universe expands, as wings
    Let down at will around, and call'd the Universal Tent.
    York, crown'd with loving kindness. Edinburgh, cloth'd
    With fortitude as with a garment of immortal texture
    Woven in looms of Eden, in spiritual deaths of mighty men

    Who give themselves, in Golgotha, Victims to Justice; where
    There is in Albion a Gate of precious stones and gold
    Seen only by Emanations, by vegetations viewless,
    Bending across the road of Oxford Street; it from Hyde Park
    To Tyburns deathful shades, admits the wandering souls
    Of multitudes who die from Earth: this Gate cannot be found

    By Satans Watch-fiends tho' they search numbering every grain
    Of sand on Earth every night, they never find this Gate.
    It is the Gate of Los. Withoutside is the Mill, intricate, dreadful
    And fill'd with cruel tortures; but no mortal man can find the Mill
    Of Satan, in his mortal pilgrimage of seventy years

    For Human beauty knows it not: nor can Mercy find it! But
    In the Fourth region of Humanity, Urthona namd[,]
    Mortality begins to roll the billows of Eternal Death
    Before the Gate of Los. Urthona here is named Los.
    And here begins the System of Moral Virtue, named Rahab.
    Albion fled thro' the Gate of Los, and he stood in the Gate.

    Los was the friend of Albion who most lov'd him. In Cambridgeshire
    His eternal station, he is the twenty-eighth, & is four-fold.
    Seeing Albion had turn'd his back aginst the Divine Vision,
    Los said to Albion, Whither fleest thou? Albion reply'd.

    I die! I go to Eternal Death! the shades of death
    Hover within me & beneath, and spreading themselves outside
    Like rocky clouds, build me a gloomy monument of woe:
    Will none accompany me in my death? or be a Ransom for me
    In that dark Valley? I have girded round my cloke, and on my feet
    Bound these black shoes of death, & on my hands, death's iron gloves:
    God hath forsaken me, & my friends are become a burden
    A weariness to me, & the human footstep is a terror to me.

    Los answerd, troubled: and his soul was rent in twain:
    Must the Wise die for an Atonement? does Mercy endure Atonement?
    No! It is Moral Severity, & destroys Mercy in its Victim.
    So speaking, not yet infected with the Error & Illusion,

    Los shudder'd at beholding Albion, for his disease
    Arose upon him pale and ghastly: and he call'd around
    The Friends of Albion: trembling at the sight of Eternal Death
    The four appear'd with their Emanations in fiery
    Chariots: black their fires roll beholding Albions House of Eternity
    Damp couch the flames beneath and silent, sick, stand shuddering
    Before the Porch of sixteen pillars: weeping every one
    Descended and fell down upon their knees round Albions knees,
    Swearing the Oath of God! with awful voice of thunders round
    Upon the hills & valleys, and the cloudy Oath roll'd far and wide

    Albion is sick! said every Valley, every mournful Hill
    And every River: our brother Albion is sick to death.
    He hath leagued himself with robbers! he hath studied the arts
    Of unbelief! Envy hovers over him! his Friends are his abhorrence!
    Those who give their lives for him are despised!
    Those who devour his soul, are taken into his bosom!
    To destroy his Emanation is their intention:
    Arise! awake O Friends of the Giant Albion
    They have perswaded him of horrible falshoods!
    They have sown errors over all his fruitful fields!

    The Twenty-four heard! they came trembling on watry chariots.
    Borne by the Living Creatures of the third procession
    Of Human Majesty, the Living Creatures wept aloud as they
    Went along Albions roads, till they arriv'd at Albions House.

    O! how the torments of Eternal Death, waited on Man:
    And the loud-rending bars of the Creation ready to burst:
    That the wide world might fly from its hinges, & the immortal mansion
    Of Man, for ever be possess'd by monsters of the deeps:
    And Man himself become a Fiend, wrap'd in an endless curse,
    Consuming and consum'd for-ever in flames of Moral Justice.

    For had the Body of Albion fall'n down, and from its dreadful ruins
    Let loose the enormous Spectre on the darkness of the deep,
    At enmity with the Merciful & fill'd with devouring fire,
    A nether-world must have recievd the foul enormous spirit,
    Under pretence of Moral Virtue, fill'd with Revenge and Law.
    There to eternity chain'd down, and issuing in red flames
    And curses, with his mighty arms brandish'd against the heavens
    Breathing cruelty blood & vengeance, gnashing his teeth with pain
    Torn with black storms, & ceaseless torrents of his own consuming fire:
    Within his breast his mighty Sons chaind down & fill'd with cursings:
    And his dark Eon, that once fair crystal form divinely clear:
    Within his ribs producing serpents whose souls are flames of fire.
    But, glory to the Merciful-One, for he is of tender mercies!
    And the Divine Family wept over him as One Man.

    And these the Twenty-four in whom the Divine Family
    Appear'd; and they were One in Him. A Human Vision!
    Human Divine, Jesus the Saviour, blessed for ever and ever.

    Selsey, true friend! who afterwards submitted to be devourd
    By the waves of Despair, whose Emanation rose above
    The flood, and was nam'd Chichester, lovely mild & gentle! Lo!
    Her lambs bleat to the sea-fowls cry, lamenting still for Albion.

    Submitting to be call'd the son of Los the terrible vision:
    Winchester stood devoting himself for Albion: his tents

    Outspread with abundant riches, and his Emanations
    Submitting to be call'd Enitharmons daughters, and be born
    In vegetable mould: created by the Hammer and Loom
    In Bowlahoola & Allamanda where the Dead wail night & day.

    (I call them by their English names: English, the rough basement.
    Los built the stubborn structure of the Language, acting against
    Albions melancholy, who must else have been a Dumb despair.)

    Gloucester and Exeter and Salisbury and Bristol: and benevolent

    Bath who is Legions: he is the Seventh, the physician and
    The poisoner: the best and worst in Heaven and Hell:
    Whose Spectre first assimilated with Luvah in Albions mountains
    A triple octave he took, to reduce Jerusalem to twelve
    To cast Jerusalem forth upon the wilds to Poplar & Bow:
    To Malden & Canterbury in the delights of cruelty:
    The Shuttles of death sing in the sky to Islington & Pancrass
    Round Marybone to Tyburns River, weaving black melancholy as a net,
    And despair as meshes closely wove over the west of London,
    Where mild Jerusalem sought to repose in death & be no more.
    She fled to Lambeths mild Vale and hid herself beneath
    The Surrey Hills where Rephaim terminates: her Sons are siez'd
    For victims of sacrifice; but Jerusalem cannot be found! Hid
    By the Daughters of Beulah: gently snatch'd away: and hid in Beulah

    There is a Grain of Sand in Lambeth that Satan cannot find
    Nor can his Watch Fiends find it: tis translucent & has many Angles
    But he ho finds it will find Oothoons palace, for within
    Opening into Beulah every angle is a lovely heaven
    But should the Watch Fiends find it, they would call it Sin
    And lay its Heavens & their inhabitants in blood of punishment
    Here Jerusalem & Vala were hid in soft slumberous repose
    Hid from the terrible East, shut up in the South & West.

    The Twenty-eight trembled in Deaths dark caves, in cold despair
    They kneeld around the Couch of Death in deep humiliation
    And tortures of self condemnation while their Spectres ragd within.
    The Four Zoa's in terrible combustion clouded rage
    Drinking the shuddering fears & loves of Albions Families
    Destroying by selfish affections the things that they most admire
    Drinking & eating, & pitying & weeping, as at a trajic scene.
    The soul drinks murder & revenge, & applauds its own holiness

    They saw Albion endeavouring to destroy their Emanations.

    They saw their Wheels rising up poisonous against Albion
    Urizen, cold & scientific: Luvah, pitying & weeping
    Tharmas, indolent & sullen: Urthona, doubting & despairing
    Victims to one another & dreadfully plotting against each other
    To prevent Albion walking about in the Four Complexions.

    They saw America clos'd out by the Oaks of the western shore;
    And Tharmas dash'd on the Rocks of the Altars of Victims in Mexico.
    If we are wrathful Albion will destroy Jerusalem with rooty Groves
    If we are merciful, ourselves must suffer destruction on his Oaks!
    Why should we enter into our Spectres, to behold our own corruptions
    O God of Albion descend! deliver Jerusalem from the Oaken Groves!

    Then Los grew furious raging: Why stand we here trembling around
    Calling on God for help; and not ourselves in whom God dwells
    Stretching a hand to save the falling Man: are we not Four
    Beholding Albion upon the Precipice ready to fall into Non-Entity:
    Seeing these Heavens & Hells conglobing in the Void. Heavens over Hells
    Brooding in holy hypocritic lust, drinking the cries of pain

    From howling victims of Law: building Heavens Twenty-seven-fold.
    Swelld & bloated General Forms, repugnant to the Divine-
    Humanity, who is the Only General and Universal Form
    To which all Lineaments tend & seek with love & sympathy
    All broad & general principles belong to benevolence
    Who protects minute particulars, every one in their own identity.
    But here the affectionate touch of the tongue is closd in by deadly teeth
    And the soft smile of friendship & the open dawn of benevolence
    Become a net & a trap, & every energy renderd cruel,
    Till the existence of friendship & benevolence is denied:
    The wine of the Spirit & the vineyards of the Holy-One.
    Here: turn into poisonous stupor & deadly intoxication:
    That they may be condemnd by Law & the Lamb of God be slain!
    And the two Sources of Life in Eternity[,] Hunting and War,
    Are become the Sources of dark & bitter Death & of corroding Hell:
    The open heart is shut up in integuments of frozen silence
    That the spear that lights it forth may shatter the ribs & bosom
    A pretence of Art, to destroy Art: a pretence of Liberty
    To destroy Liberty. a pretence of Religion to destroy Religion
    Oshea and Caleb fight: they contend in the valleys of Peor
    In the terrible Family Contentions of those who love each other:
    The Armies of Balaam weep—-no women come to the field
    Dead corses lay before them, & not as in Wars of old.
    For the Soldier who fights for Truth, calls his enemy is brother:
    They fight & contend for life, & not for eternal death!
    But here the Soldier strikes, & a dead corse falls at his feet
    Nor Daughter nor Sister nor Mother come forth to embosom the Slain!
    But Death! Eternal Death! remains in the Valleys of Peor.
    The English are scatterd over the face of the Nations: are these
    Jerusalems children? Hark! hear the Giants of Albion cry at night
    We smell the blood of the English! we delight in their blood on our Altars!
    The living & the dead shall be ground in our rumbling Mills
    For bread of the Sons of Albion: of the Giants Hand & Scofield
    Scofeld & Kox are let loose upon my Saxons! they accumulate
    A World in which Man is by his Nature the Enemy of Man,
    In pride of Selfhood unwieldy stretching out into Non Entity
    Generalizing Art & Science till Art & Science is lost.
    Bristol & Bath, listen to my words, & ye Seventeen: give ear!
    It is easy to acknowledge a man to be great & good while we
    Derogate from him in the trifles & small articles of that goodness:
    Those alone are his friends, who admire his minutest powers[.]
    Instead of Albions lovely mountains & the curtains of Jerusalem
    I see a Cave, a Rock, a Tree deadly and poisonous, unimaginative:
    Instead of the Mutual Forgivenesses, the Minute Particulars, I see
    Pits of bitumen ever burning: artificial Riches of the Canaanite

    Like Lakes of liquid lead: instead of heavenly Chapels, built
    By our dear Lord: I see Worlds crusted with snows & ice;
    I see a Wicker Idol woven round Jerusalems children. I see
    The Canaanite, the Amalekite, the Moabite, the Egyptian:
    By Demonstrations the cruel Sons of Quality & Negation.
    Driven on the Void in incoherent despair into Non Entity
    I see America closd apart, & Jerusalem driven in terror
    Away from Albions mountains, far away from Londons spires!
    I will not endure this thing! I alone withstand to death,
    This outrage! Ah me! how sick & pale you all stand round me!
    Ah me! pitiable ones! do you also go to deaths vale?
    All you my Friends & Brothers! all you my beloved Companions!
    Have you also caught the infection of Sin & stern Repentance?
    I see Disease arise upon you! yet speak to me and give
    Me some comfort: why do you all stand silent? I alone
    Remain in permanent strength. Or is all this goodness & pity, only
    That you may take the greater vengeance in your Sepulcher.

    So Los spoke. Pale they stood around the House of Death:
    In the midst of temptations & despair: among the rooted Oaks:
    Among reared Rocks of Albions Sons, at length they rose

    With one accord in love sublime, & as on Cherubs wings
    They Albion surround with kindest violence to bear him back
    Against his will thro Los's Gate to Eden: Four-fold; loud!
    Their Wings waving over the bottomless Immense: to bear
    Their awful charge back to his native home: but Albion dark,
    Repugnant; rolld his Wheels backward into Non-Entity
    Loud roll the Starry Wheels of Albion into the World of Death
    And all the Gate of Los, clouded with clouds redounding from
    Albions dread Wheels, stretching out spaces immense between
    That every little particle of light & air, became Opake
    Black & immense, a Rock of difficulty & a Cliff
    Of black despair; that the immortal Wings labourd against
    Cliff after cliff, & over Valleys of despair & death:
    The narrow Sea between Albion & the Atlantic Continent:
    Its waves of pearl became a boundless Ocean bottomless,
    Of grey obscurity, filld with clouds & rocks & whirling waters
    And Albions Sons ascending & descending in the horrid Void.

    But as the Will must not be bended but in the day of Divine
    Power: silent calm & motionless, in the mid-air sublime,
    The Family Divine hover around the darkend Albion.

    Such is the nature of the Ulro: that whatever enters:
    Becomes Sexual, & is Created, and Vegetated, and Born.
    From Hyde Park spread their vegetating roots beneath Albion
    In dreadful pain the Spectrous Uncircumcised Vegetation.

    Forming a Sexual Machine: an Aged Virgin Form.
    In Erins Land toward the north, joint after joint & burning
    In love & jealousy immingled & calling it Religion
    And feeling the damps of death they with one accord delegated Los
    Conjuring him by the Highest that he should Watch over them
    Till Jesus shall appear: & they gave their power to Los
    Naming him the Spirit of Prophecy, calling him Elijah

    Strucken with Albions disease they become what they behold;
    They assimilate with Albion in pity & compassion;
    Their Emanations return not: their Spectres rage in the Deep
    The Slumbers of Death came over them around the Couch of Death
    Before the Gate of Los & in the depths of Non Entity
    Among the Furnaces of Los: among the Oaks of Albion.

    Man is adjoind to Man by his Emanative portion:
    Who is Jerusalem in every individual Man: and her
    Shadow is Vala, builded by the Reasoning power in Man
    O search & see: turn your eyes inward: open O thou World
    Of Love & Harmony in Man: expand thy ever lovely Gates.

    They wept into the deeps a little space at length was heard
    The voice of Bath, faint as the voice of the Dead in the House of Death

    Bath, healing City! whose wisdom in midst of Poetic
    Fervor: mild spoke thro' the Western Porch, in soft gentle tears

    O Albion mildest Son of Eden! clos'd is thy Western Gate
    Brothers of Eternity! this Man whose great example
    We all admir'd & lov'd, whose all benevolent countenance, seen
    In Eden, in lovely Jerusalem, drew even from envy
    The tear: and the confession of honesty, open & undisguis'd
    From mistrust and suspition. The Man is himself become
    A piteous example of oblivion. To teach the Sons
    Of Eden, that however great and glorious; however loving
    And merciful the Individuality; however high
    Our palaces and cities, and however fruitful are our fields
    In Selfhood, we are nothing: but fade away in mornings breath,
    Our mildness is nothing: the greatest mildness we can use
    Is incapable and nothing! none but the Lamb of God can heal
    This dread disease: none but Jesus! O Lord descend and save!
    Albions Western Gate is clos'd: his death is coming apace!
    Jesus alone can save him; for alas we none can know
    How soon his lot may be our own. When Africa in sleep
    Rose in the night of Beulah, and bound down the Sun & Moon
    His friends cut his strong chains, & overwhelm'd his dark
    Machines in fury & destruction, and the Man reviving repented
    He wept before his wrathful brethren, thankful & considerate

    For their well timed wrath. But Albions sleep is not
    Like Africa's: and his machines are woven with his life
    Nothing but mercy can save him! nothing but mercy interposing
    Lest he should slay Jerusalem in his fearful jealousy
    O God descend! gather our brethren, deliver Jerusalem
    But that we may omit no office of the friendly spirit
    Oxford take thou these leaves of the Tree of Life: with eloquence
    That thy immortal tongue inspires; present them to Albion:
    Perhaps he may recieve them, offerd from thy loved hands.

    So spoke, unheard by Albion. the merciful Son of Heaven
    To those whose Western Gates were open, as they stood weeping
    Around Albion: but Albion heard him not; obdurate! hard!
    He frown'd on all his Friends, counting them enemies in his sorrow

    And the Seventeen conjoining with Bath, the Seventh:
    In whom the other Ten shone manifest, a Divine Vision!
    Assimilated and embrac'd Eternal Death for Albions sake.

    And these the names of the Eighteen combining with those Ten

    Bath, mild Physician of Eternity, mysterious power
    Whose springs are unsearchable & knowledg infinite.
    Hereford, ancient Guardian of Wales, whose hands
    Builded the mountain palaces of Eden, stupendous works!
    Lincoln, Durham & Carlisle, Councellors of Los.
    And Ely, Scribe of Los, whose pen no other hand
    Dare touch! Oxford, immortal Bard! with eloquence
    Divine, he wept over Albion: speaking the words of God
    In mild perswasion: bringing leaves of the Tree of Life.

    Thou art in Error Albion, the Land of Ulro:
    One Error not remov'd, will destroy a human Soul
    Repose in Beulahs night, till the Error is remov'd
    Reason not on both sides. Repose upon our bosoms
    Till the Plow of Jehovah, and the Harrow of Shaddai
    Have passed over the Dead, to awake the Dead to Judgment.
    But Albion turn'd away refusing comfort.

    Oxford trembled while he spoke, then fainted in the arms
    Of Norwich, Peterboro, Rochester, Chester awful, Worcester,
    Litchfield, Saint Davids, Landaff, Asaph, Bangor, Sodor,
    Bowing their heads devoted: and the Furnaces of Los
    Began to rage, thundering loud the storms began to roar
    Upon the Furnaces, and loud the Furnaces rebellow beneath

    And these the Four in whom the twenty-four appear'd four-fold:
    Verulam, London, York, Edinburgh, mourning one towards another

    Alas!—The time will come, when a mans worst enemies
    Shall be those of his own house and family: in a Religion
    Of Generation, to destroy by Sin and Atonement, happy Jerusalem,
    The Bride and Wife of the Lamb. O God thou art Not an Avenger!

    Thus Albion sat, studious of others in his pale disease:
    Brooding on evil: but when Los opend the Furnaces before him:
    He saw that the accursed things were his own affections,
    And his own beloveds: then he turn'd sick! his soul died within him
    Also Los sick & terrified beheld the Furnaces of Death
    And must have died, but the Divine Saviour descended
    Among the infant loves & affections, and the Divine Vision wept
    Like evening dew on every herb upon the breathing ground

    Albion spoke in his dismal dreams: O thou deceitful friend
    Worshipping mercy & beholding thy friend in such affliction:
    Los! thou now discoverest thy turpitude to the heavens.
    I demand righteousness & justice. O thou ingratitude!
    Give me my Emanations back[,] food for my dying soul!
    My daughters are harlots! my sons are accursed before me.
    Enitharmon is my daughter: accursed with a fathers curse!
    O! I have utterly been wasted! I have given my daughters to devils

    6.26.2008

    Friday 5

    Friday 5 is a collection of five words which can be found each week (middle column) on this page and inside this post. If you choose to write a poem or story with these words please leave your comment below. I hope everyone can find the same inspiration with Friday 5 as they do with 3WW. Hope to see you around and don't forget to post your comments below. Have a nice day.

    Friday 5

    doctor
    roll of film
    stairwell
    telephone
    secret

    6.22.2008

    Monday Mural

    by HilmDaniele
    artwork Abstract
    from Photobucket
    originally uploaded here

    Monday Mural will feature a picture/ artwork for you to lend your words (poem or story) each Monday. I want you to ask yourself what images are provoked here? What words would you use to define this picture? If you choose to write for Monday Mural please leave your comments below. Hope to see you around.

    Abstract originally uploaded to Photobucket by HilmDaniele.

    6.21.2008

    Autumn In New York

    movie Autumn In New York
    date 2000
    poems Hope
    To A Young Poet
    authors Emily Dickinson
    Edna St. Vincent Millay



    Hope by Emily Dickinson and To A Young Poet by Edna St. Vincent Millay can be found in its entirety below. Comments welcome.

    Hope

    Hope is the thing with feathers
    That perches in the soul,
    And sings the tune--without the words,
    And never stops at all,

    And sweetest in the gale is heard;
    And sore must be the storm
    That could abash the little bird
    That kept so many warm.

    I've heard it in the chillest land,
    And on the strangest sea;
    Yet, never, in extremity,
    It asked a crumb of me.

    To A Young Poet
    by Edna St. Vincent Millay

    Time cannot break the bird's wing from the bird.
    Bird and wing together
    Go down, one feather.

    No thing that ever flew,
    Not the lark, not you,
    Can die as others do.

    Little Women

    movie Little Women
    date 1994
    poem Give Me The Splendid Silent Sun
    author Walt Whitman

    The poem Give Me The Splendid Silent Sun by Walt Whitman can be found in its entirety below. Lines used in the movie are in bold.

    1
    Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling,
    Give me autumnal fruit ripe and red from the orchard,
    Give me a field where the unmow'd grass grows,
    Give me an arbor, give me the trellis'd grape,
    Give me fresh corn and wheat, give me serene-moving animals teaching
    content,
    Give me nights perfectly quiet as on high plateaus west of the
    Mississippi, and I looking up at the stars,
    Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can
    walk undisturb'd,
    Give me for marriage a sweet-breath'd woman of whom I should never tire,
    Give me a perfect child, give me away aside from the noise of the
    world a rural domestic life,
    Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my own ears
    only,
    Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your primal
    sanities!
    These demanding to have them, (tired with ceaseless excitement, and
    rack'd by the war-strife,)
    These to procure incessantly asking, rising in cries from my heart,
    While yet incessantly asking still I adhere to my city,
    Day upon day and year upon year O city, walking your streets,
    Where you hold me enchain'd a certain time refusing to give me up,
    Yet giving to make me glutted, enrich'd of soul, you give me forever
    faces;
    (O I see what I sought to escape, confronting, reversing my cries,
    see my own soul trampling down what it ask'd for.)

    2
    Keep your splendid silent sun,
    Keep your woods O Nature, and the quiet places by the woods,
    Keep your fields of clover and timothy, and your corn-fields and orchards,
    Keep the blossoming buckwheat fields where the Ninth-month bees hum;
    Give me faces and streets--give me these phantoms incessant and
    endless along the trottoirs!
    Give me interminable eyes--give me women--give me comrades and
    lovers by the thousand!
    Let me see new ones every day--let me hold new ones by the hand every day!
    Give me such shows--give me the streets of Manhattan!
    Give me Broadway, with the soldiers marching--give me the sound of
    the trumpets and drums!
    (The soldiers in companies or regiments--some starting away, flush'd
    and reckless,
    Some, their time up, returning with thinn'd ranks, young, yet very
    old, worn, marching, noticing nothing;)
    Give me the shores and wharves heavy-fringed with black ships!
    O such for me! O an intense life, full to repletion and varied!
    The life of the theatre, bar-room, huge hotel, for me!
    The saloon of the steamer! the crowded excursion for me! the
    torchlight procession!
    The dense brigade bound for the war, with high piled military wagons
    following;
    People, endless, streaming, with strong voices, passions, pageants,
    Manhattan streets with their powerful throbs, with beating drums as now,
    The endless and noisy chorus, the rustle and clank of muskets, (even
    the sight of the wounded,)
    Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus!
    Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.

    6.19.2008

    Friday 5

    Friday 5 is a collection of five words which can be found each week (middle column) on this page and inside this post. If you choose to write a poem or story with these words please leave your comment below. I hope everyone can find the same inspiration with Friday 5 as they do with 3WW. Hope to see you around and don't forget to post your comments below. Have a nice day.

    Friday 5

    dog trainer
    bills
    beach
    pie
    whistle

    6.15.2008

    Monday Mural

    by Goddess33908
    artwork Earth
    from Photobucket
    originally uploaded here

    Monday Mural will feature a picture/ artwork for you to lend your words (poem or story) each Monday. I want you to ask yourself what images are provoked here? What words would you use to define this picture? If you choose to write for Monday Mural please leave your comments below. Hope to see you around.

    Earth was originally uploaded to Photobucket by Goddess33908.

    6.12.2008

    Friday 5

    Friday 5 is a collection of five words which can be found each week (middle column) on this page and inside this post. If you choose to write a poem or story with these words please leave your comment below. I hope everyone can find the same inspiration with Friday 5 as they do with 3WW. Hope to see you around and don't forget to post your comments below. Have a nice day.

    Friday 5

    social worker
    mop
    hotel room
    beeper
    fire alarm

    6.08.2008

    Monday Mural

    by Pokermedic7
    artwork #4 (Sandcastle Image)
    from Photobucket
    originally uploaded here

    Monday Mural will feature a picture/ artwork for you to lend your words (poem or story) each Monday. I want you to ask yourself what images are provoked here? What words would you use to define this picture? If you choose to write for Monday Mural please leave your comments below. Hope to see you around.

    #4 was originally uploaded to Photobucket by Pokermedic7. I decided to add another sandcastle image to the Monday Mural since the last one went so well in April. Happy Writing~

    6.05.2008

    Friday 5

    Friday 5 is a collection of five words which can be found each week (middle column) on this page and inside this post. If you choose to write a poem or story with these words please leave your comment below. I hope everyone can find the same inspiration with Friday 5 as they do with 3WW. Hope to see you around and don't forget to post your comments below. Have a nice day.

    Friday 5

    little boy
    torn page
    market
    cart
    dirt

    6.01.2008

    Monday Mural

    by Swoon
    artwork Swoon in the Wild
    from Flickr
    originally uploaded here

    Monday Mural will feature a picture/ artwork for you to lend your words (poem or story) each Monday. I want you to ask yourself what images are provoked here? What words would you use to define this picture? If you choose to write for Monday Mural please leave your comments below. Hope to see you around.

    Swoon in the Wild was originally uploaded to Flickr by Swoon. Swoon is a street artist from New York who creates life size wheat paste prints and paper cutouts of figures. I will probably feature more of this artists work as I really enjoy the look and feel of this artwork. Happy Writing~

    Creative Commons License
    Poetry, Photography & Artwork by Michelle Johnson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
    Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at www.poefusion.blogspot.com.

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