JERUSALEM: The Emanation of The Giant Albion

William Blake

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  • To the Public
  • Chap: I
  • To the Jews.
  • Chap: 2.


  •  
            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,
            <Greek>Edotha moi pasa exousia en ouranon kai epi ges</Greek>]
            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