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    Blake's Selected Poems

    Page 8
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      Since that dread day when Har and Heva fled.

      Because their brethren & sisters liv’d in War & Lust;

      And as they fled they shrunk

      Into two narrow doleful forms:

      Creeping in reptile flesh upon

      The bosom of the ground:

      And all the vast of Nature shrunk

      Before their shrunken eyes.

      Thus the terrible race of Los & Enitharmon gave

      Laws & Religions to the sons of Har binding them more

      And more to Earth: closing and restraining:

      Till a Philosophy of Five Senses was complete

      Urizen wept & gave it into the hands of Newton & Locke

      Clouds roll heavy upon the Alps round Rousseau & Voltaire:

      And on the mountains of Lebanon round the deceased Gods

      Of Asia; & on the desarts of Africa round the Fallen Angels

      The Guardian Prince of Albion burns in his nightly tent

      ASIA

      The Kings of Asia heard

      The howl rise up from Europe!

      And each ran out from his Web;

      From his ancient woven Den;

      For the darkness of Asia was startled

      At the thick-flaming, thought-creating fires of Ore.

      And the Kings of Asia stood

      And cried in bitterness of soul.

      Shall not the King call for Famine from the heath?

      Nor the Priest, for Pestilence from the fen?

      To restrain! to dismay! to thin!

      The inhabitants of mountain and plain;

      In the day, of full-feeding prosperity;

      And the night of delicious songs.

      Shall not the Councellor throw his curb

      Of Poverty on the laborious?

      To fix the price of labour;

      To invent allegoric riches:

      And the privy admonishers of men

      Call for fires in the City

      For heaps of smoking ruins,

      In the night of prosperity & wantonness

      To turn man from his path,

      To restrain the child from the womb,

      To cut off the bread from the city,

      That the remnant may learn to obey.

      That the pride of the heart may fail;

      That the lust of the eyes may be quench’d:

      That the delicate ear in its infancy

      May be dull’d; and the nostrils clos’d up;

      To teach mortal worms the path

      That leads from the gates of the Grave.

      Urizen heard them cry!

      And his shudd‘ring waving wings

      Went enormous above the red flames

      Drawing clouds of despair thro’ the heavens

      Of Europe as he went:

      And his Books of brass iron & gold

      Melted over the land as he flew,

      Heavy-waving, howling, weeping.

      And he stood over Judea:

      And stay’d in his ancient place:

      And stretch’d his clouds over Jerusalem;

      For Adam, a mouldering skeleton

      Lay bleach’d on the garden of Eden;

      And Noah as white as snow

      On the mountains of Ararat.

      Then the thunders of Urizen bellow’d aloud

      From his woven darkness above.

      Ore raging in European darkness

      Arose like a pillar of fire above the Alps

      Like a serpent of fiery flame!

      The sullen Earth

      Shrunk!

      Forth from the dead dust rattling bones to bones

      Join: shaking convuls’d the shivring clay breathes

      And all flesh naked stands: Fathers and Friends;

      Mothers & Infants; Kings & Warriors:

      The Grave shrieks with delight, & shakes

      Her hollow womb, & clasps the solid stem:

      Her bosom swells with wild desire:

      And milk & blood & glandous wine

      In rivers rush & shout & dance,

      On mountain, dale and plain.

      The SONG of LOS is Ended.

      Urizen Wept.

      “And did those feet in ancient time”7

      [FROM MILTON]

      And did those feet in ancient time,

      Walk upon Englands mountains green:

      And was the holy Lamb of God,

      On Englands pleasant pastures seen!

      And did the Countenance Divine,

      Shine forth upon our clouded hills?

      And was Jerusalem builded here,

      Among these dark Satanic Mills?

      Bring me my Bow of burning gold:

      Bring me my Arrows of desire:

      Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!

      Bring me my Chariot of fire!

      I will not cease from Mental Fight,

      Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:

      Till we have built Jerusalem,

      In Englands green & pleasant Land.

      “The fields from Islington to Marybone”

      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 groan’d 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 Maiden & 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.

      “I saw a Monk of Charlemaine”

      I saw a Monk of Charlemaine

      Arise before my sight

      I talkd with the Grey Monk as we stood

      In beams of infernal light

      Gibbon arose with a lash of steel

      And Voltaire with a wracking wheel

      The Schools in clouds of learning rolld

      Arose with War in iron & gold.

      Thou lazy Monk they sound afar

      In vain condemning glorious War

      And in your Cell you shall ever dwell

      Rise War & bind him in his Cell.

      The blood. red ran from the Grey Monks side

      His hands & feet were wounded wide

      His body bent, his arms & knees

      Like to the roots of ancient trees

      When Satan first the black bow bent

      And the Moral Law from the Gospel rent

      He forgd the Law into a Sword

      And spilld the blood of mercys Lord.

      Titus! Constantine! Charlemaine!

      O Voltaire! Rousseau! Gibbon! Vain

      Your Grecian Mocks & Roman Sword

      Against this image of his Lord!

      For a Tear is an Intellectual thing;

      And a Sigh is the Sword of an Angel King

      And the bitter groan of a Martyrs woe

      Is an Arrow from the Almighties Bow!

      [From The Everlasting Gospel]

      [PREFACE]

      I will tell you what Joseph of Arimathea

      Said to my Fairy was not it very queer

      Pliny & Trajan what are You here

      Come listen to Joseph of Arimathea

      Listen patient & when Joseph has done

      Twill make a fool laugh & a Fairy Fun

      What can be done with such desperate Fools

      Who follow after the Heathen Schools

      I was standing by when Jesus died

      What I calld Humility they calld Pride

      THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL

      Was Jesus Humble or did he

      Give any Proofs of Humility

      Boast of high Things with Humble tone

      And give with Charity a Stone

      When but a Child he ran away

      And left his Parents in Dismay

      When they had wanderd three days long

      These were the words upon his tongue

      No Earthly Parents I confess

      I am doing my Fathers business

      When the rich learned Pharisee

      Came to consult him secretly

      Upon his heart with Iron pen

      He wrote Ye must be born again

      He was too proud to take a bribe

      He spoke with authority not like a Scribe

      He says with most consummate Art

      Follow me I am meek & lowly of heart

      As that is the only way to escape

      The Misers net & the Gluttons trap

      He who loves his Enemies betrays his Friends

      This surely is not what Jesus intends

      But the sneaking Pride of Heroic Schools

      And the Scribes & Pharisees Virtuous Rules

      For he acts with honest triumphant Pride

      And this is the cause that Jesus died

      He did not die with Christian Ease

      Asking Pardon of his Enemies

      If he had Caiphas would forgive

      Sneaking submission can always live

      He had only to say that God was the devil

      And the devil was God like a Christian Civil

      Mild Christian regrets to the devil confess

      For affronting him thrice in the Wilderness

      He had soon been bloody Caesars Elf

      And at last he would have been Caesar himself

      Like dr Priestly & Bacon & Newton

      Poor Spiritual Knowledge is not worth a button

      For thus the Gospel Sr Isaac confutes

      God can only be known by his Attributes

      And as for the Indwelling of the Holy Ghost

      Or of Christ & his Father its all a boast

      And Pride & Vanity of Imagination

      That disdains to follow this Worlds Fashion

      To teach doubt & Experiment

      Certainly was not what Christ meant

      What was he doing all that time

      From twelve years old to manly prime

      Was he then Idle or the Less

      About his Fathers business

      Or was his wisdom held in scorn

      Before his wrath began to burn

      In Miracles throughout the Land

      That quite unnervd Lord Caiaphas hand

      If he had been Antichrist Creeping Jesus

      Hed have done any thing to please us

      Gone sneaking into Synagogues

      And not usd the Elders & Priests like dogs

      But Humble as a Lamb or Ass

      Obeyd himself to Caiaphas

      God wants not Man to Humble himself

      This is the trick of the ancient Elf

      This is the Race that Jesus ran

      Humble to God Haughty to Man

      Cursing the Rulers before the People

      Even to the temples highest Steeple

      And when he Humbled himself to God

      Then descended the Cruel Rod

      If thou humblest thyself thou humblest me

      Thou also dwellst in Eternity

      Thou art a Man God is no more

      Thy own humanity learn to adore

      For that is my Spirit of Life

      Awake arise to Spiritual Strife

      And thy Revenge abroad display

      In terrors at the Last Judgment day

      Gods Mercy & Long Suffering

      Is but the Sinner to Judgment to bring

      Thou on the Cross for them shalt pray

      And take Revenge at the Last Day

      Jesus replied & thunders hurld

      I never will Pray for the World

      Once [I] did so when I prayd in the Garden

      I wishd to take with me a Bodily Pardon

      Can that which was of Woman born

      In the absence of the Morn

      When the Soul fell into Sleep

      And Archangels round it weep

      Shooting out against the Light

      Fibres of a deadly night

      Reasoning upon its own Dark Fiction

      In Doubt which is Self Contradiction

      Humility is only Doubt

      And does the Sun & Moon blot out

      Rooting over with thorns & stems

      The buried Soul & all its Gems

      This Lifes dim Windows of the Soul

      Distorts the Heavens from Pole to Pole

      And leads you to Believe a Lie

      When you see with not thro the Eye

      That was born in a night to perish in a night

      When the Soul slept in the beams of Light.

      Was Jesus Chaste or did he

      Give any Lessons of Cha
    stity

      The morning blushd fiery red

      Mary was found in Adulterous bed

      Earth groand beneath & Heaven above

      Trembled at discovery of Love

      Jesus was sitting in Moses Chair

      They brought the trembling Woman There

      Moses commands she be stoned to Death

      What was the sound of Jesus breath

      He laid his hand on Moses Law

      The Ancient Heavens in Silent Awe

      Writ with Curses from Pole to Pole

      All away began to roll

      The Earth trembling & Naked lay

      In secret bed of Mortal Clay

      On Sinai felt the hand Divine

      Putting back the bloody shrine

      And she heard the breath of God

      As she heard by Edens flood

      Good & Evil are no more

      Sinais trumpets cease to roar

      Cease finger of God to Write

      The Heavens are not clean in thy Sight

      Thou art Good & thou Alone

      Nor may the sinner cast one stone

      To be Good only is to be

      A Devil or else a Pharisee

      Thou Angel of the Presence Divine

      That didst create this Body of Mine

      Wherefore has[t] thou writ these Laws

      And Created Hells dark jaws

      My Presence I will take from thee

      A Cold Leper thou shalt be

      Tho thou wast so pure & bright

     


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