Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) (156 page)

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

60
 
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 [
Image
] 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:

70
  
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:

PLATE 8

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.

10
 
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

20
 
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 threat’nings loud & fierce.

30
 
Thou art my Pride & Self-righteousness: I have found thee out:

Thou art reveald before me in all thy magnitude & power

The 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

40
 
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 Brethen in his might

All the infant Loves & Graces were lost, for the mighty Hand

PLATE 9

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:

10
 
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

20
 
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 competid to defend

30
 
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.

PLATE 10

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

10
 
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

20
 
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

30
 
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

40
 
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 & clothd in holiness & solitude

50
 
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

60
 
So spoke the Spectre shuddring, & dark tears ran down his shadowy face

Which Los wipd 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

PLATE II

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;