The Portable William Blake (46 page)

BOOK: The Portable William Blake
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Giving, recieving, and forgiving each other’s 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.”
O! how the torments of Eternal Death waited on Man,
And the loud-rending bars of the Creation ready tn 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.
[THE ENGLISH NAMES]
I call them by their English names: English, the rough basement.
Los built the stubborn structure of the Language, acting against
Albion’s melancholy, who must else have been a Dumb despair.
[MAN’S SPECTRE]
Each Man is in his Spectre’s power
Until the arrival of that hour,
When his Humanity awake,
And cast his Spectre into the Lake.
[LOS’S FURY]
... 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,
Swell’d & 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 clos’d in by deadly teeth,
And the soft smile of friendship & the open dawn of benevolence
Become a net & a trap, & every energy render’d 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 condemn’d 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....”
[A MAN’S WORST ENEMIES]
Alas!—The time will come when a man’s 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!
[JERUSALEM! JERUSALEM!]
‘Jerusalem ! Jerusalem! why wilt thou turn away? ... “The Gigantic roots & twigs of the vegetating Sons of Albion,
Fill’d with the little-ones, are consumed in the Fires of their Altars.
The vegetating Cities are burned & consumed from the Earth,
And the Bodies in which all Animals & Vegetations, the Earth & Heaven
Were contain’d in the All Glorious Imagination, are wither’d & darken’d.
The golden Gate of Havilah and all the Garden of God
Was caught up with the Sun in one day of fury and war.
The Lungs, the Heart, the Liver, shrunk away far disstant from Man
And left a little slimy substance floating upon the tides.
In one night the Atlantic Continent was caught up with the Moon
And became an Opake Globe far distant, clad with moony beams.
The Visions of Eternity, by reason of narrowed perceptions,
Are become weak Visions of Time & Space, fix’d into furrows of death,
Till deep dissimulation is the only defence an honest man has left....”
[THE SHUT FORM]
“Ah! weak & wide astray! Ah! shut in narrow doleful form!
Creeping in reptile flesh upon the bosom of the ground!
The Eye of Man, a little narrow orb, clos’d up & dark,
Scarcely beholding the Great Light, conversing with the ground:
The Ear, a little shell, in small volutions shutting out
True Harmonies & comprehending great as very small:
The Nostrils, bent down to the earth & clos’d with senseless flesh
That odours cannot them expand, nor joy on them exult:
The Tongue, a little moisture fills, a little food it cloys,
A little sound it utters, & its cries are faintly heard....”
[A MURDEROUS PROVIDENCE]
“A murderous Providence! A Creation that groans, living on Death,
Where Fish & Bird & Beast & Man & Tree & Metal & Stone
Live by Devouring, going into Eternal Death continually!”
[COME, O LAMB OF GOD!]
“Come, O thou Lamb of God, and take away the remembrance of Sin.
To Sin & to hide the Sin in sweet deceit is lovely!
To Sin in the open face of day is cruel & pitiless! But
To record the Sin for a reproach, to let the Sun go down
In a remembrance of the Sin, is a Woe & a Horror,
A brooder of an Evil Day and a Sun rising in blood!
Come then, 0 Lamb of Cod, and take away the remembrance of Sin.”
[ALBION’S SPECTRE]
... The Spectre, like a hoar frost & a Mildew, rose over Albion,
Saying, “I am God, O Sons of Men! I am your Rational Power!
Am I not Bacon & Newton & Locke who teach Humility to Man,
Who teach Doubt & Experiment? & my two Wings, Voltaire, Rousseau?
Where is that Friend of Sinners? that Rebel against my Laws
Who teaches Belief to the Nations & an unknown Eternal Life?
Come hither into the Desart & turn these stones to bread.
Vain foolish Man! wilt thou believe without Experiment And build a World of Phantasy upon my Great Abyss,
A World of Shapes in craving lust & devouring appetite?”
[IT IS BETTER TO PREVENT MISERY]
Silence remain’d & every one resum’d his Human Majesty.
And many conversed on these things as they labour’d at the furrow,
Saying: “It is better to prevent misery than to release from misery:
It is better to prevent error than to forgive the criminal.
Labour well the Minute Particulars, attend to the Little-ones,
And those who are in misery cannot remain so long
If we do but our duty: labour well the teeming Earth.”
 
They Plow’d in tears, the trumpets sounded before the golden Plow,
And the voices of the Living Creatures were heard in the clouds of heaven,
Crying: “Compell the Reasoner to Demonstrate with un-hewn Demonstrations.
Let the Indefinite be explored, and let every Man be Judged
By his own Works. Let all Indefinites be thrown into Demonstrations,
To be pounded to dust & melted in the Furnaces of Affliction.
He who would do good to another must do it in Minute Particulars:
General Good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocrite & flatterer,
For Art & Science cannot exist but in minutely organized Particulars
And not in generalizing Demonstrations of the Rational Power.
The Infinite alone resides in Definite & Determinate Identity;
Establishment of Truth depends on destruction of Falshood continually,
On Circumcision, not on Virginity, 0 Reasoners of Albion!”
[THE DIVINE VISION]
“What is a Wife & what is a Harlot? What is a Church & What
Is a Theatre? are they Two & not One? can they Exist Separate?
Are not Religion & Politics the Same Thing? Brotherhood is Religion,
O Demonstrations of Reason Dividing Families in Cruelty & Pride!”
[THE DAUGHTERS OF LOS]
And in the North Gate, in the West of the North, toward Beulah,
Cathedron’s Looms are builded, and Los’s Furnaces in the South.
A wondrous golden Building immense with ornaments sublime
Is bright Cathedron’s golden Hall, its Courts, Towers & Pinnacles.
 
And one Daughter of Los sat at the fiery Reel, & another
Sat at the shining Loom with her Sisters attending round,
Terrible their distress, & their sorrow cannot be utter’d;
And another Daughter of Los sat at the Spinning Wheel,
Endless their labour, with bitter food, void of sleep;
Tho’ hungry, they labour: they rouze themselves anxious
Hour after hour labouring at the whirling Wheel,
Many Wheels & as many lovely Daughters sit weeping.
 
Yet the intoxicating delight that they take in their work
Obliterates every other evil; none pities their tears,
Yet they regard not pity & they expect no one to pity,
For they labour for life & love regardless of any one
But the poor Spectres that they work for always, incessantly.
 
They are mock’d by every one that passes by; they regard not,
They labour, & when their Wheels are broken by scorn & malice
They mend them sorrowing with many tears & afflictions.
 
Other Daughters Weave on the Cushion & Pillow Network fine
That Rahab & Tirzah may exist & live & breathe & love.
Ah, that it could be as the Daughters of Beulah wish !
 
Other Daughters of Los, labouring at Looms less fine,
Create the Silk-worm & the Spider & the Catterpiller
To assist in their most grievous work of pity & compassion;
And others Create the wooly Lamb & the downy Fowl
To assist in the work; the Lamb bleats, the Sea-fowl cries:
Men understand not the distress & the labour & sorrow
That in the Interior Worlds is carried on in fear & trembling,
Weaving the shudd’ring fears & loves of Albion’s Families.
Thunderous rage the Spindles of iron, & the iron Distaff
Maddens in the fury of their hands, weaving in bitter tears
The Veil of Goats-hair & Purple & Scarlet & fine twined Linen.
[A VISION OF MARY AND JOSEPH]
“... Behold, in the Visions of Elohim Jehovah, behold Joseph & Mary
And be comforted, O Jerusalem, in the Visions of Jehovah Elohim.”
 
She looked & saw Joseph the Carpenter in Nazareth & Mary
His espoused Wife. And Mary said, “If thou put me away from thee
Dost thou not murder me?” Joseph spoke in anger & fury, ”Should I
Marry a Harlot & an Adulteress?” Mary answer’d, ”Art thou more pure
Than thy Maker who forgiveth Sins & calls again Her that is Lost?
Tho’ She hates, he calls her again in love. I love my dear Joseph,
But he driveth me away from his presence; yet I hear the voice of God
In the voice of my Husband: tho’ he is angry for a moment, he will not
Utterly cast me away; if I were pure, never could I taste the sweets
Of the Forgiveness of Sins; if I were holy, I never could behold the tears
Of love of him who loves me in the midst of his anger in furnace of fire.”
 
“Ah my Mary!” said Joseph, weeping over & embracing her closely in
His arms: “Doth he forgive Jerusalem & not exact Purity from her who is
Polluted? I heard his voice in my sleep & his Angel in my dream,
Saying, ‘Doth Jehovah Forgive a Debt only on condition that it shall
Be Payed? Doth he Forgive Pollution only on conditions of Purity?
That Debt is not Forgiven! That Pollution is not Forgiven!
Such is the Forgiveness of the Gods, the Moral Virtues of the
Heathen whose tender Mercies are Cruelty. But Jehovah’s Salvation
Is without Money & without Price, in the Continual Forgiveness of Sins,
In the Perpetual Mutual Sacrifice in Great Eternity; for behold,
There is none that liveth & Sinneth notl And this is the Covenant
Of Jehovah: If you Forgive one-another, so shall Jehovah Forgive You,
That He Himself may Dwell among You. Fear not then to take
To thee Mary thy Wife, for she is with Child by the Holy Ghost.’ ”
Then Mary burst forth into a Song: she flowed like a River of
Many Streams in the arms of Joseph & gave forth her tears of joy
Like many waters, and Emanating into gardens & palaces upon
Euphrates, & to forests & floods & animals wild & tame from
Gihon to Hiddekel, & to corn fields & villages & inhabitants
Upon Pison & Arnon & Jordan. And I heard the voice among
The Reapers, Saying, “Am I Jerusalem the lost Adulteress ? or am I
Babylon come up to Jerusalem?” And another voice answer’ d, Saying,
 
“Does the voice of my Lord call me again? am I pure thro’ his Mercy
And Pity? Am I become lovely as a Virgin in his sight, who am
Indeed a Harlot drunken with the Sacrifice of Idols? does he
Call her pure as he did in the days of her Infancy when She
Was cast out to the loathing of her person? The Chaldean took
Me from my Cradle. The Amalekite stole me away upon his Camels
BOOK: The Portable William Blake
4.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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