in notes of woe!
Where are thy father & mother? say?
They are both gone up to the church to pray.
Because I was happy upon the heath.
And smil’d among the winters snow:
They clothed me in the clothes of death.
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.
And because I am happy. & dance & sing.
10 They think they have done me no injury:
And are gone to praise God & his Priest & King
Who make up a heaven of our misery.
NURSES SONG
When the voices of children, are heard on the green
And whisperings are in the dale:
The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind,
My face turns green and pale.
Then come home my children, the sun is gone down
And the dews of night arise
Your spring & your day, are wasted in play
And your winter and night in disguise.
THE SICK ROSE
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
THE FLY
Little Fly
Thy summers play,
My thoughtless hand
Has brush’d away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
10 And drink & sing;
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength & breath;
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
20 Or if I die.
THE ANGEL
I Dreamt a Dream! what can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen:
Guarded by an Angel mild;
Witless woe, was ne’er beguil’d!
And I wept both night and day
And he wip’d my tears away
And I wept both day and night
And hid from him my hearts delight
So he took his wings and fled:
10 Then the morn blush’d rosy red:
I dried my tears & armd my fears,
With ten thousand shields and spears.
Soon my Angel came again:
I was arm’d, he came in vain:
For the time of youth was fled
And grey hairs were on my head.
THE TYGER
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes!
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
10 Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
20 Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger, Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
MY PRETTY ROSE TREE
A flower was offerd to me;
Such a flower as May never bore.
But I said I’ve a Pretty Rose-tree.
And I passed the sweet flower o’er.
Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree;
To tend her by day and by night.
But my Rose turned away with jealousy:
And her thorns were my only delight.
AH! SUN-FLOWER
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time.
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
THE LILLY
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn:
The humble Sheep, a threatning horn:
While the Lilly white, shall in Love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright
THE GARDEN OF LOVE
I went to the Garden of Love.
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.
And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And Thou shalt not. writ over the door;
So I turn’d to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore.
And I saw it was filled with graves,
10 And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys & desires.
THE LITTLE VAGABOND
Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold.
But the Ale-house is healthy & pleasant & warm;
Besides I can tell where I am use’d well,
Such usage in heaven will never do well.
But if at the Church they would give us some Ale.
And a pleasant fire, our souls to regale;
We’d sing and we’d pray, all the live-long day;
Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray,
Then the Parson might preach & drink & sing.
10 And we’d be as happy as birds in the spring:
And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church,
Wou’ld not have bandy children nor fasting nor birch.
And God like a father rejoicing to see,
His children as pleasant and happy as he:
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the Barrel
But kiss him & give him both drink and apparel.
LONDON
I wander thro’ each charter’d street,
Near where the charter’d Thames does flow.
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every Infants cry of fear,
In every voice: in every ban,
The mind-forg’d manacles I hear
How the Chimney-sweepers cry
10 Every blackning Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldiers sigh,
Runs in blood down Palace walls
But most thro’ midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlots curse
Blasts the new-born Infants tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse
THE HUMAN ABSTRACT
Pity would be no more,
If we did not make somebody Poor:
And Mercy no more could be,
If all were as happy as we;
And mutual fear brings peace;
Till the selfish loves increase.
Then Cruelty knits a snare,
And spreads his baits with care.
He sits down with holy fears,
10 And waters the ground with tears:
Then Humility takes its root
Underneath his foot.
Soon spreads the dismal shade
Of Mystery over his head;
And the Catterpiller and Fly,
Feed on the Mystery.
And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
Ruddy and sweet to eat;
And the Raven his nest has made
20 In its thickest shade.
The Gods of the earth and sea,
Sought thro’ Nature to find this Tree
But their search was all in vain:
There grows one in the Human Brain
INFANT SORROW
My mother groand! my father wept.
Into the dangerous world I leapt:
Helpless, naked, piping loud;
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Struggling in my fathers hands:
Striving against my swadling bands:
Bound and weary I thought best
To sulk upon my mothers breast.
A POISON TREE
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears.
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles.
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night.
10 Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine.
And into my garden stole.
When the night had veild the pole;
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.
A LITTLE BOY LOST
Nought loves another as itself
Nor venerates another so.
Nor is it possible to Thought
A greater than itself to know:
And Father, how can I love you,
Or any of my brothers more?
I love you like the little bird
That picks up crumbs around the door.
The Priest sat by and heard the child.
10 In trembling zeal he siez’d his hair:
He led him by his little coat:
And all admir’d the Priestly care.
And standing on the altar high,
Lo what a fiend is here! said he:
One who sets reason up for judge
Of our most holy Mystery.
The weeping child could not be heard.
The weeping parents wept in vain:
They strip’d him to his little shirt.
20 And bound him in an iron chain.
And burn’d him in a holy place,
Where many had been burn’d before:
The weeping parents wept in vain.
Are such things done on Albions shore.
A LITTLE GIRL LOST
Children of the future Age,
Reading this indignant page:
Know that in a former time,
Love! sweet Love! was thought a crime.
In the Age of Gold,
Free from winters cold:
Youth and maiden bright,
To the holy light,
Naked in the sunny beams delight.
10 Once a youthful pair
Fill’d with softest care:
Met in garden bright,
Where the holy light,
Had just remov’d the curtains of the night.
There in rising day,
On the grass they play:
Parents were afar:
Strangers came not near:
And the maiden soon forgot her fear.
20 Tired with kisses sweet
They agree to meet,
When the silent sleep
Waves o’er heavens deep;
And the weary tired wanderers weep.
To her father white
Came the maiden bright:
But his loving look.
Like the holy book,
All her tender limbs with terror shook.
Ona! pale and weak!
To thy father speak:
O the trembling fear!
O the dismal care!
That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair
TO TIRZAH
Whate’er is Born of Mortal Birth,
Must be consumed with the Earth
To rise from Generation free;
Then what have I to do with thee?
The Sexes sprung from Shame & Pride
Blow’d in the morn: in evening died
But Mercy changd Death into Sleep;
The Sexes rose to work & weep.
Thou Mother of my Mortal part
10 With cruelty didst mould my Heart,
And with false self-decieving tears,
Didst bind my Nostrils Eyes & Ears.
Didst close my Tongue in senseless clay
And me to Mortal Life betray:
The Death of Jesus set me free,
Then what have I to do with thee?
THE SCHOOL BOY
I love to rise in a summer morn,
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the sky-lark sings with me.
O! what sweet company.
But to go to school in a summer morn
O! it drives all joy away;
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day,
10 In sighing and dismay.
Ah! then at times I drooping sit,
And spend many an anxious hour.
Nor in my book can I take delight,
Nor sit in learnings bower,
Worn thro’ with the dreary shower
How can the bird that is born for joy,
Sit in a cage and sing.
How can a child when fears annoy,
But droop his tender wing,
20 And forget his youthful spring.
O! father & mother, if buds are nip’d,
And blossoms blown away,
And if the tender plants are strip’d
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and cares dismay,
How shall the summer arise in joy
Or the summer fruits appear
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy
Or bless the mellowing year,
30 When the blasts of winter appear.
THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD
Youth of delight come hither:
And see the opening morn,
Image of truth new born
Doubt is fled & clouds of reason
Dark disputes & artful teazing.
Folly is an endless maze,
Tangled roots perplex her ways,
How many have fallen there!
They stumble all night over bones of the dead;
10 And feel they know not what but care;
And wish to lead others when they should be led.
NOTEBOOK POEMS AND FRAGMENTS, c. 1789–93
A flower was offerd to me
Such a flower as may never bore
But I said Ive a pretty rose tree
And I passed the sweet flower oer
Then I went to my pretty rose tree
[In the silent of the night]
To tend it by day & by night
But my rose [was turnd from me/was filld] turnd away with Jealousy
And her thorns were my only delight
*
[Never (seek) pain to tell thy love
Love that never told can be
For the gentle wind does move
Silently invisibly]
I told my love I told my love
I told her all my heart
Trembling cold in ghastly fears
Ah she doth depart
Soon as she was gone from me
A traveller came by
Silently invisibly
[He took her with a sigh]
O was no deny
*
Love seeketh not itself to please
Nor for itself hath any care
But for another gives its ease
And builds a heaven in hells despair
So sung a little clod of clay
Trodden with the cattles feet
But a pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet
Love seeketh only self to please
To bind another to its delight
Joys in anothers loss of ease
And builds a hell in heavens despite
*
I laid me down upon a bank
Where love lay sleeping
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping Weeping
Then I went to the heath & the wild
To the thistles & thorns of the waste
And they told me how they were beguild
Driven out & compeld to be chaste
*
I went to the garden of love
And I saw what I never had seen
A chapel was built in the midst
Where I used to play on the green
And the gates of the chapel were shut
And thou shalt not writ over the door
[And] So I turned to the garden of love
That so many sweet flowers bore
And I saw it was filled with graves
10 And tomb-stones where flowers should be
And priests in black gounds were walking their rounds
And binding with briars my joys & desires
*
I saw a chapel all of gold
That none did dare to enter in
And many weeping stood without
Weeping mourning worshipping
I saw a serpent rise between
The white pillars of the door
And he forcd & forcd & forcd
[Till he broke the pearly door]
Down the golden hinges tore
10 And along the pavement sweet
Set with pearls & rubies bright
All his slimy length he drew
Till upon the altar white
Vomiting his poison out
On the bread & on the wine
So I turned into a sty
And laid me down among the swine
*
I asked a thief [if he’d] to steal me a peach
[And] He turned up his eyes
I askd a lithe lady to lie her down
[And] Holy & meek she cries
As soon as I went An angel came
[And] He winkd at the thief
And [he] smild at the dame
And without one word [spoke] said
10 Had a peach from the tree
[And twixt earnest & (game) joke] And still as a maid
[He] Enjoy’d the [da] lady.
*
I heard an Angel singing
When the day was springing
Mercy Pity [&] Peace
Is the worlds release
Thus he sung all day
Over the new mown hay
Till the sun went down
And haycocks looked brown
I heard a Devil curse
10 Over the heath & the furze
Mercy could be no more
If there was nobody poor
And pity no more could be
If all were as happy as we
[Thus he sang &] At his curse the sun went down
And the heavens gave a frown
[(And) Down pourd the heavy rain
Over the new reapd grain
And Mercy & Pity & Peace descended
20 The Farmers were ruind & harvest was ended]
[And Mercy Pity & Peace [And by distress increase
Joyd at their increase Mercy Pity Peace
With Povertys Increase By Misery to increase
Are] mercy Pity Peace]
And Miseries increase
Is Mercy Pity Peace
*
A CRADLE SONG
1 3 Sleep Sleep; in thy sleep
[Thou wilt every secret keep]
[Canst] [Thou canst any secret keep]
4 Little sorrows sit & weep
1 Sleep Sleep beauty bright
[Thou shalt taste the joys of night]
2 Dreaming oer the joys of night
[Yet a little while the moon Silent]
10 3 As thy softest limbs I [touch/stroke] feel
Smiles as of the morning [broke] steal
Oer thy cheek & oer thy breast
Where thy little heart does rest
4 O the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep
When thy little heart does wake
Then the dreadful lightnings break
2 Sweet Babe in thy face
20 Soft desires I can trace
Secret joys & secret smiles
[Such as burning youth beguiles]
Little pretty infant wiles
5 From thy cheek & from thy eye
Oer the youthful harvests nigh
[Female] Infant wiles & [female] infant smiles
Heaven & Earth of peace beguiles
*
CHRISTIAN FORBEARANCE
I was angry with my friend
I told my wrath my wrath did end
I was angry with my foe
I told it not my wrath did grow
And I waterd it in fears
Night & morning with my tears
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles
And it grew by day & night
10 Till it bore an apple bright
[And I gave it to my foe]
And my foe beheld it shine
And he knew that it was mine
And into my garden stole
When the night had veild the pole
In the morning Glad I see
My foe outstretchd beneath the tree
*
I feard the [roughness] fury of my wind
Would blight all blossoms fair & true
And my sun it shind & shind
And my wind it never blew
But a blossom fair or true
Was not found on any tree
For all blossoms grew & grew
Fruitless false tho fair to see
*
[THAMES]
Why should I care for the men of thames
Or the cheating waves of charterd streams
Or shrink at the little blasts of fear
That the hireling blows into my ear
Tho born on the cheating banks of Thames
Tho his waters bathed my infant limbs
[I spurnd his waters away from me]
The Ohio shall wash his stains from me
I was born a slave but I [long] go to be free
*
INFANT SORROW
My mother groand my father wept
Into the dangerous world I leapt
Helpless naked piping loud
Like a fiend hid in a cloud
Struggling in my fathers hands
Striving against my swaddling bands
Bound & weary I thought best
To sulk upon my mothers breast
When I saw that rage was vain
10 And to sulk would nothing gain
[I began to so/Seeking many an artful wile]
Turning many a trick or wile
I began to soothe & smile
And I [grew/smild] soothd day after day
Till upon the ground I stray
And I [grew] smild night after night
Seeking only for delight
[But upon the nettly ground
20 No delight was to be found]
And I saw before me shine
Clusters of the wandring vine
[And beyond a mirtle tree]
And many a lovely flower and tree
Stretchd [its] their blossoms out to me
[But a Priest/But many a] My father then with holy look
In [his/their] hands a holy book
Pronouncd curses on [his] my head
[Who the fruit or blossoms shed]
And bound me in a mirtle shade
30 [I beheld the (Priest) Priests by night
(He) They embracd (my mirtle) the blossoms bright
Like a serpent in the] Like to holy men by day
Underneath [my] the vines [he] they lay
So I smote [him] them & [his] their gore
Staind the roots my mirtle bore
But the time of youth is fled
And grey hairs are on my head
*
Silent Silent Night
Quench the holy light
Of thy torches bright
For possessd of Day
Thousand spirits stray
That sweet joys betray
Why should joys be sweet
10 Used with deceit
Nor with sorrows meet
But an honest joy
Does itself destroy
For a harlot coy
*
O lapwing thou fliest around the heath
Nor seest the net that is spread beneath
Why dost thou not fly among the corn fields
They cannot spread nets where a harvest yields
*
Thou hast a lap full of seed
And this is a fine country
Why dost thou not cast thy seed
And live in it merrily
[Oft Ive] Shall I cast it on the sand
And [turnd] turn it into fruitful land
[But] For on no other ground
Can I sow my seed
10 Without [pulling] tearing up
Some stinking weed
*
[THE] EARTHS ANSWER
Earth raisd up her head
From the darkness dread & drear
Her [eyes/orbs] [fled/dead] light fled
Stony dread;
And her locks coverd with grey despair:
Prisond on watry shore
Starry Jealousy does keep my den
Cold & hoar
Weeping oer
10 I hear the [father of the] ancient [father of] men
[(Cruel) Selfish father of men
Cruel jealous (wintry) selfish fear
Can delight
(Closd) Chaind in night
The virgins of youth & morning bear]
Does spring hide its [delight] joy
When buds & blossoms grow
Does the sower [sow
His seed] Sow by night
20 Or the plowman in darkness plow
Break this heavy chain
That does [close]
freeze my bones around
Selfish vain
[Thou my] Eternal bane
[Hast my] That free love with bondage bound
*
IN A MIRTLE SHADE
[To a lovely mirtle bound
Blossoms showring all around]
2 O how sick & weary I
Underneath my mirtle lie
Like to dung upon the ground
Underneath my mirtle bound
1 Why should I be bound to thee
O my lovely mirtle tree
Love free love cannot be bound
10 To any tree that grows on ground
3 Oft my mirtle sighd in vain
To behold my heavy chain
Oft [the priest beheld] my father saw us sigh
And laughd at our simplicity
So I smote him & his gore
Staind the roots my mirtle bore
But the time of youth is fled
And grey hairs are on my head
*
LONDON
I wander thro each dirty street
Near where the dirty Thames does flow
And [see] mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness marks of woe
In every cry of every man
In [every voice of every child] every infants cry of fear
In every voice in every ban
The [german forged links] mind forgd manacles I hear
[But most] How the chimney sweepers cry
10 [Blackens oer the churches walls]
Every blackning church appalls
And the hapless soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down palace walls
[But most the midnight harlots curse
From every dismal street I hear
Weaves around the marriage hearse
And blasts the newborn infants tear]
But most [from every] thro wintry streets I hear
20 How the midnight harlots curse
Blasts the newborn infants tear
And [hangs] smites with plagues the marriage hearse
But most the shrieks of youth I hear
But most thro midnight &c
How the youthful
*
TO NOBODADDY
Why art thou silent & invisible
[Man] Father of Jealousy
Why dost thou hide thyself in clouds
From every searching Eye
Why darkness & obscurity
In all thy words & laws
That none dare eat the fruit but from
The wily serpents jaws
Or is it because secresy gains [feminine] females loud applause
*
The [rose puts envious] [lustful] modest rose puts forth a thorn
The [coward] humble sheep a threatning horn
While the lilly white shall in love delight
[And the lion increase freedom & peace]
[The prist loves war & the soldier peace]
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright
*
When the voices of children are heard on the green
And whisprings are in the dale
The [desires] days of my youth rise fresh in my mind
My face turns green & pale
Then come home my children the sun is gone down
And the dews of night arise
Your spring & your day are wasted in play
And your winter & night in disguise
*
Are not the joys of morning sweeter
Than the joys of night
And are the vigrous joys of youth
Ashamed of the light
Let age & sickness silent rob
The vineyards in the night
But those who burn with vigrous youth
Pluck fruits before the light
*
THE TYGER [FIRST VERSION]
1 Tyger Tyger burning bright
In the forests of the night
What immortal hand [&] or eye
[Could/Dare] frame thy fearful symmetry
2 [In what/Burnt in] distant deeps or skies
[Burnt the/The cruel] fire of thine eyes
On what wings dare he aspire
What the hand dare sieze the fire
3 And what shoulder & what art
10 Could twist the sinews of thy heart
And when thy heart began to beat
What dread hand & what dread feet
[Could fetch it from the furnace deep
And in (the) thy horrid ribs dare steep
In the well of sanguine woe
In what clay & in what mould
Were thy eyes of fury rolld]
4 [What/Where] the hammer [what/where] the chain
In what furnace was thy brain
What the anvil what [the arm/grasp/clasp] dread grasp 20
[Could] Dare its deadly terrors [clasp/grasp] clasp
6 Tyger Tyger burning bright
In thee forests of the night
What immortal hand & eye
Dare[form] frame thy fearful symmetry
5 3 And [did he laugh] dare he [smile/laugh] his work to see
[What the shoulder (ankle) what the knee]
4 [Did] Dare he who made the lamb make thee
30 1 When the stars threw down their spears
2 And waterd heaven with their tears
[SECOND VERSION]
Tyger Tyger burning bright
In the forests of the night
What Immortal hand [or] & eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry
Burnt in distant deeps or skies
The cruel fire of thine eyes
Could heart descend or wings aspire
What the hand dare sieze the fire
And what shoulder & what art
10 Could twist the sinews of thy heart
And when thy heart began to beat
What dread hand & what dread feet
When the stars threw down their spears
And waterd heaven with their tears
Did he smile his work to see
Did he who made the lamb make thee
Tyger Tyger burning bright
In the forests of the night
What immortal hand & eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry
*
[How came pride in Man
From Mary it began
How Contempt & Scorn
What a world is Man
His Earth]
*
THE HUMAN IMAGE
[Mercy] Pity could be no more
[If there was nobody poor]
If we did not make somebody poor
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we
And mutual fear brings Peace
Till the selfish Loves increase
Then Cruelty knits a snare
And spreads his [nets] baits with care
10 He sits down with holy fears
And waters the ground with tears
Then humility takes its root
Underneath his foot
Soon spreads the dismal shade
Of Mystery over his head
And the caterpillar & fly
Feed on the Mystery
And it bears the fruit of deceit
Ruddy & sweet to eat
And the raven his nest has made
20 In its thickest shade
The Gods of the Earth & Sea
Sought thro nature to find this tree
But their search was all in vain
[Till they sought in the human brain]
There grows one in the human brain
They said this mystery never shall cease
The prest [loves] promotes war and the soldier peace
There souls of men are bought & sold
30 And [cradled] milk fed infancy [is sold] for gold
And youth[s] to slaughter houses led
And [maidens] beauty for a bit of bread
*
[HOW TO KNOW LOVE FROM DECEIT]
Love to faults is always blind
Always is to joy inclind
[Always] Lawless wingd & unconfind
And breaks all chains from every mind
Deceit to secresy [inclind] confind
[Modest prudish & confind]
Lawful cautious [changeful and] & refind
[Never is to] To every thing but interest blind
[And chains & fetters every mind]
And forges fetters for the mind
*
THE WILD FLOWERS SONG
As I wanderd the forest
The green leaves among
I heard a wild [thistle] flower
Singing a song
I [mas found] slept in the [dark] Earth
In the silent night
I murmurd my fears
And I felt delight
In the morning I went
10 As rosy as morn
To seek for new Joy
But I met with scorn
*
THE SICK ROSE
O Rose thou art sick
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm
Hath found out thy bed
Of crimson joy
[O dark secret love
Doth life destroy]
And [his] her dark secret love
Does thy life destroy
*
SOFT SNOW
I walked abroad in a snowy day
I askd the soft snow with me to play
She playd & she melted in all her prime
[Ah that sweet love should be thought a crime]
And the winter calld it a dreadful crime
*
AN ANCIENT PROVERB
Remove away that blackning church
Remove away that marriage hearse
Remove away that [place] man of blood
[Twill] Youll quite remove the ancient curse
*
TO MY MIRTLE
5 Why should I be bound to thee
6 O my lovely mirtle tree
[Love free love cannot be bound
To any tree that grows on ground]
1 To a lovely mirtle bound
2 Blossoms showring all around
[Like to dung upon the ground
Underneath my mirtle bound]
3 O how sick & weary I
10 4 Underneath my mirtle lie
*
Naught loves another as itself
Nor venerates another so
Nor is it possible to Thought
A greater than itself to know
[Then] And father [I cannot] how can I love you
[Nor] Or any of my brothers more
I love [myself so does the bird] you like the little bird
That picks up crumbs around the door
The Priest sat by and heard the child
10 In trembling zeal he seizd his hair
[The mother followed weeping loud
O that I such a fiend should bear
Then] He led him by the little coat
[To show his zealous priestly care]
And all admird his priestly care
And standing on the altar high
Lo what a fiend is here said he
One who sets reason up for judge
Of our most holy mystery
20 The weeping child could not be heard
The weeping parents wept in vain
[They bound his little ivory limbs
In a cruel Iron chain
And] They strip’d him to his little shirt
& bound him in an iron chain
[They] And burnd him in a holy [fire] place
Where many had been burnd before
The weeping parents wept in vain
Are Such things [are] done on Albions shore
*
THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER
A little black thing among the snow
Crying weep weep in notes of woe
Where are thy father & mother say
They are both gone up to Church to pray
Because I was happy upon the heath
And smild among the winters [wind] snow
They clothd me in the clothes of death
And taught me to sing the notes of woe
And because I am happy and dance and sing
10 They think they have done me no injury
And are gone to praise God & his Priest & King
[Who wrap themselves up in our misery]
Who make up a heaven of our misery
*
MERLINS PROPHECY
The harvest shall flourish in wintry weather
When two virginities meet together
The King & the Priest must be tied in a tether
Before two virgins can meet together
*
DAY
The [day] Sun arises in the East
Clothd in robes of blood & gold
Swords & spears & wrath increast
All around his [ancles] bosom rolld
Crownd with warlike fires & raging desires
*
[THE MARRIAGE RING] THE FAIRY
Come hither my sparrows
My little arrows
If a tear or a smile
Will a man beguile
If an amorous delay
Clouds a sunshiny day
If the [tread] step of a foot
Smites the heart to its root
Tis the marriage ring
10 Makes each fairy a king
So a fairy sung
From the leaves I sprung
He leapd from the spray
To flee away
[And] But in my hat caught
He soon shall be taught
Let him laugh let him cry
Hes my butterfly
[And a marriage ring
Is a foolish thing/Is a childs play thing]
For I’ve pulld out the Sting
Of the marriage ring
*
The sword sung on the barren heath
The sickle [on] in the fruitful field
The sword he sung a song of death
But could not make the sickle yield
*
Abstinence sows sand all over
The ruddy limbs & [flourishing] flaming hair
But Desire Gratified
Plants fruits of life & beauty there
*
In a wife I would desire
What in whores is always found
The lineaments of Gratified desire
*
If you [catch] trap the moment before its ripe
The tears of repentance youll certainly wipe
But if once you let the ripe moment go
You[ll] can never wipe off the tears of woe
*
ETERNITY
He who binds to himself [to] a joy
Does the winged life destroy
But he who [just] kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in [an eternal] eternity’s sun rise
*
THE KID
Thou little Kid didst play
&c
*
THE LITTLE [A PRETTY] VAGABOND
Dear Mother Dear Mother the church is cold
But the alehouse is healthy & pleasant & warm
Besides I can tell where I am usd well
[Such usage in heaven makes us all go to hell]
The poor parsons with wind like a blown bladder swell
But if at the Church they would give us some Ale
And a pleasant fire our souls to regale
We’d sing and we’d pray all the livelong day
Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray
10 Then the parson might preach & drink & sing
And wed be as happy as birds in the spring
And Modest dame Lurch who is always at Church
Would not have bandy children nor fasting nor birch
Then God like a father [that joys for] rejoicing to see
His children as pleasant & happy as he
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the Barrel
[But shake hands & kiss him & thered be no more hell]
But kiss him & give him both [food] drink & apparel
*
THE QUESTION ANSWERD
What is it men [of] in women do require?
The lineaments of Gratified Desire.
What is it women do [of] in men require?
The lineaments of Gratified Desire.
*
LACEDEMONIAN INSTRUCTION
Come hither my boy tell me what thou seest there
A fool tangled in a religious snare
*
RICHES
The [weal] countless gold of a merry heart
The rubies & pearls of a loving eye
The [idle man] indolent never can bring to the mart
Nor the [cunning] secret hoard up in his treasury
*
AN ANSWER TO THE PARSON
Why of the sheep do you not learn peace
Because I dont want you to shear my fleece
*
HOLY THURSDAY
Is this a holy thing to see
In a rich & fruitful land
Babes reducd to misery
Fed with cold & usurous hand
Is that trembling cry a song
Can it be a song of joy
And so great a number poor
Tis a land of poverty
And their sun does never shine
10 And their fields are bleak & bare
And their ways are filld with thorns
Tis eternal winter there
But whereeer the sun does shine
And whereeer the rain does fall
Babe can never hunger there
Nor poverty the mind appall
*
[THE ANGEL]
I dreamt a dream what can it mean
And that I was a maiden queen
Guarded by an angel mild
Witless woe was neer beguild
And I wept both night and day
And he wiped my tears away
And I wept both day & night
And hid from him my hearts delight
So he took his wings & fled
10 Then the morn blushd rosy red
I dried my tears & armd my fears
With ten thousand shields & spears
Soon my angel came again
I was armd he came in vain
[But] For the time of youth was fled
And grey hairs were on my head
*
The look of love alarms
Because tis filld with fire
But the look of soft deceit
Shall win the lovers hire
*
[Which are beauties sweetest dress]
Soft deceit & idleness
These are beauties sweetest dress
*
[Woe alas my guilty hand
Brushed across thy summer joy
All thy gilded painted pride
Shatterd fled]
1 Little fly
Thy summer play
My [guilty hand] thoughtless hand
Hath brushd away
10 [The cut worm
Forgives the plow
And dies in peace
And so do thou]
2 Am not I
A fly like thee
Or art not thou
A man like me
3 For I dance
And drink & sing
Till some blind hand
20 Shall brush my wing
5 Then am I
A happy fly
If I live
Or if I die
[4 Thought is life
30 And strength & breath
But the want (of)
Of Thought is death]
4 If thought is life
30 And strength & breath
And the want [of]
Of Thought is death
*
MOTTO TO THE SONGS OF INNOCENCE & OF EXPERIENCE
The Good are attracted by Mens perceptions
And Think not for themselves
Till Experience teaches them to catch
And to cage the Fairies & Elves
And then the Knave begins to snarl
And the Hypocrite to howl
And all his good Friends shew their private ends
And the Eagle is known from the Owl
*
Her whole Life is an Epigram smack smooth & neatly pend
Platted quite neat to catch applause with a sliding noose at the end
An old maid early eer I knew
Ought but the love that on me grew
And now Im coverd oer & oer
And wish that I had been a Whore
O I cannot cannot find
The undaunted courage of a Virgin Mind
For Early I in love was crost
Before my flower of love was lost
*
SEVERAL QUESTIONS ANSWERD
He who binds to himself a joy
Doth the winged life destroy
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in Eternitys sun rise
—————
The look of love alarms
Because tis filld with fire
But the look of soft deceit
Shall Win the lovers hire
—————
Soft deceit & Idleness
These are Beautys sweetest dress
—————
What is it men in women do require
The lineaments of Gratified Desire
What is it women do in men require
The lineaments of Gratified Desire
*
AN ANCIENT PROVERB
Remove away that blackning church
Remove away that marriage hearse
Remove away that – of blood
Youll quite remove the ancient curse
*
1 1 Let the Brothels of Paris be opened
2 With many an alluring dance
3 To awake the [Pestilence] Physicians thro the city
4 Said the beautiful Queen of France
4 9 The King awoke on his couch of gold
10 As soon as he heard these tidings told
11 Arise & come both fife & drum
12 And the [Famine] shall eat both crust & crumb
[2 Then old Nobodaddy aloft
Farted & belchd & coughd
10 7 And said I love hanging & drawing & quartering
8 Every bit as well as war & slaughtering
(Damn praying & singing
Unless they will bring in
The blood often thousand by fighting or swinging)
3 5 Then he swore a great & solemn Oath
6 To kill the people I am loth
But If they rebel they must go to hell
They shall have a Priest & a passing bell]
20 The Queen of France just touchd this Globe
And the Pestilence darted from her robe
[But the bloodthirsty people across the water
Will not submit to the gibbet & halter]
But our good Queen quite grows to the ground
[There is just such a tree at Java found]
And a great many suckers grow all around
*
[Fayette beside King Lewis stood
He saw him sign his hand
And soon he saw the famine rage
About the fruitful land
Fayette beheld the Queen to smile
And wink her lovely eye
And soon he saw the pestilence
From street to street to fly]
Fayette beheld the King & Queen
10 In tears & iron bound
But mute Fayette wept tear for tear
And guarded them around
[Fayette Fayette thourt bought & sold
For well I see thy tears
Of Pity are exchanged for those
Of selfish slavish fears]
[Fayette beside his banner stood
His captains false around
Thourt bought & sold]
20 3 Who will exchange his own fire side
For the steps of anothers door
Who will exchange his wheaten loaf
For the links of a dungeon floor
[Who will exchange his own hearts blood
For the drops of a harlots eye]
2 [Will the mother exchange her new born babe
For the dog at the wintry door
Yet thou dost exchange thy pitying tears
For the links of a dungeon floor
30 1 Fayette Fayette thourt bought & sold
And sold is thy happy morrow
Thou gavest the tears of Pity away
In exchange for the tears of sorrow]
2 Fayette beheld the King & Queen
In [tears] curses & iron bound
But mute Fayette wept tear for tear
And guarded them around
1 Who will exchange his own fire side
For the [steps] stone of anothers door
40 Who will exchange his wheaten loaf
For the links of a dungeon floor
3 O who would smile on the wintry seas
[Or] & Pity the stormy roar
Or who will exchange his new born child
For the dog at the wintry door
*
When a Man has Married a Wife
he finds out whether
Her knees & elbows are only
glued together
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION
A Poem, in Seven Books
PAGE[iii]
ADVERTISEMENT
The remaining Books of this Poem are finished, and will be published in their Order.
PAGE [1]
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION
BOOK THE FIRST
The dead brood over Europe, the cloud and vision descends over chearful France;
O cloud well appointed! Sick, sick: the Prince on his couch, wreath’d in dim
And appalling mist; his strong hand outstretch’d, from his shoulder down the bone
Runs aching cold into the scepter too heavy for mortal grasp. No more
To be swayed by visible hand, nor in cruelty bruise the mild flourishing mountains.
Sick the mountains, and all their vineyards weep, in the eyes of the kingly mourner;
Pale is the morning cloud in his visage. Rise, Necker: the ancient dawn calls us
To awake from slumbers of five thousand years. I awake, but my soul is in dreams;
From my window I see the old mountains of France, like aged men, fading away.
PAGE 2
10 Troubled, leaning on Necker, descends the King, to his chamber of council; shady mountains
In fear, utter voices of thunder; the woods of France embosom the sound;
Clouds of wisdom prophetic reply, and roll over the palace roof heavy.
Forty men: each conversing with woes in the infinite shadows of his soul,
Like our ancient fathers in regions of twilight, walk, gathering round the King;
Again the loud voice of France cries to the morning, the morning prophecies to its clouds.
For the Commons convene in the Hall of the Nation. France shakes! And the heavens of France
Perplex’d vibrate round each careful countenance! Darkness of old times around them
Utters loud despair, shadowing Paris; her grey towers groan, and the Bastile trembles.
In its terrible towers the Governor stood, in dark fogs list’ning the horror;
20 A thousand his soldiers, old veterans of France, breathing red clouds of power and dominion,
Sudden seiz’d with howlings, despair, and black night, he stalk’d like a lion from tower
To tower, his howlings were heard in the Louvre; from court to court restless he dragg’d
His strong limbs; from court to court curs’d the fierce torment unquell’d,
Howling and giving the dark command; in his soul stood the purple plague,
Tugging his iron manacles, and piercing through the seven towers dark and sickly,
Panting over the prisoners like a wolf gorg’d; and the den nam’d Horror held a man
Chain’d hand and foot, round his neck an iron band, bound to the impregnable wall.
In his soul was the serpent coil’d round in his heart, hid from the light, as in a cleft rock;
And the man was confin’d for a writing prophetic: in the tower nam’d Darkness, was a man
30 Pinion’d down to the stone floor, his strong bones scarce cover’d with sinews; the iron rings
Were forg’d smaller as the flesh decay’d, a mask of iron on his face hid the lineaments
PAGE 3
Of ancient Kings, and the frown of the eternal lion was hid from the oppressed earth.
In the tower named Bloody, a skeleton yellow remained in its chains on its couch
Of stone, once a man who refus’d to sign papers of abhorrence; the eternal worm
Crept in the skeleton. In the den nam’d Religion, a loathsome sick woman, bound down
To a bed of straw; the seven diseases of earth, like birds of prey, stood on the couch,
And fed on the body. She refus’d to be whore to the Minister, and with a knife smote him.
In the tower nam’d Order, an old man, whose white beard cover’d the stone floor like weeds
On margin of the sea, shrivel’d up by heat of day and cold of night; his den was short
40 And narrow as a grave dug for a child, with spiders webs wove, and with slime
Of ancient horrors cover’d, for snakes and scorpions are his companions; harmless they breathe
His sorrowful breath: he, by conscience urg’d, in the city of Paris rais’d a pulpit,
And taught wonders to darken’d souls. In the den nam’d Destiny a strong man sat,
His feet and hands cut off, and his eyes blinded; round his middle a chain and a band
Fasten’d into the wall; fancy gave him to see an image of despair in his den,
Eternally rushing round, like a man on his hands and knees, day and night without rest:
He was friend to the favourite. In the seventh tower, nam’d the tower of God, was a man
Mad, with chains loose, which he dragg’d up and down; fed with hopes year by year, he pined
For liberty; vain hopes: his reason decay’d, and the world of attraction in his bosom
50 Center’d, and the rushing of chaos overwhelm’d his dark soul. He was confin’d
For a letter of advice to a King, and his ravings in winds are heard over Versailles.
But the dens shook and trembled, the prisoners look up and assay to shout; they listen,
Then laugh in the dismal den, then are silent, and a light walks round the dark towers.
PAGE 4
For the Commons convene in the Hall of the Nation; like spirits of fire in the beautiful
Porches of the Sun, to plant beauty in the desart craving abyss, they gleam
On the anxious city; all children new-born first behold them; tears are fled,
And they nestle in earth-breathing bosoms. So the city of Paris, their wives and children,
Look up to the morning Senate, and visions of sorrow leave pensive streets.
But heavy brow’d jealousies lower o’er the Louvre, and terrors of ancient Kings
60 Descend from the gloom and wander thro’ the palace and weep round the King and his Nobles.
While loud thunders roll, troubling the dead, Kings are sick throughout all the earth,
The voice ceas’d: the Nation sat: And the triple forg’d fetters of times were unloos’d.
The voice ceas’d: the Nation sat: but ancient darkness and trembling wander thro’ the palace.
As in day of havock and routed battle, among thick shades of discontent,
On the soul-skirting mountains of sorrow cold waving: the Nobles fold round the King,
Each stern visage lock’d up as with strong bands of iron, each strong limb bound down as with marble,
In flames of red wrath burning, bound in astonishment a quarter of an hour.
Then the King glow’d: his Nobles fold round, like the sun of old time quench’d in clouds;
In their darkness the King stood, his heart flam’d, and utter’d a with’ring heat, and these words burst forth:
70 ‘The nerves of five thousand years ancestry tremble, shaking the heavens of France;
‘Throbs of anguish beat on brazen war foreheads, they descend and look into their graves.
PAGE 5
‘I see thro’ darkness, thro’ clouds rolling round me, the spirits of ancient Kings
‘Shivering over their bleached bones; round them their counsellors look up from the dust,
‘Crying: “Hide from the living! Our b[a]nds and our prisoners shout in the open field,
‘“Hide in the nether earth! Hide in the bones! Sit obscured in the hollow scull.
‘“Our flesh is corrupted, and we [wear] away. We are not numbered among the living. Let us hide
‘“In stones, among roots of trees. The prisoners have burst their dens,
‘“Let us hide; let us hide in the dust; and plague and wrath and tempest shall cease.”’
He ceas’d, silent pond’ring, his brows folded heavy, his forehead was in affliction,
80 Like the central fire: from the window he saw his vast armies spread over the hills,
Breathing red fires from man to man, and from horse to horse; then his bosom
Expanded like starry heaven, he sat down: his Nobles took their ancient seats.
Then the ancientest Peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the Monarch’s right hand, red as wines
From his mountains, an odor of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments,
And the chamber became as a clouded sky; o’er the council he stretch’d his red limbs,
Cloth’d in flames of crimson, as a ripe vineyard stretches over sheaves of corn,
The fierce Duke hung over the council; around him croud, weeping in his burning robe,
A bright cloud of infant souls; his words fall like purple autumn on the sheaves.
‘Shall this marble built heaven become a clay cottage, this earth an oak stool, and these mowers
90 ‘From the Atlantic mountains, mow down all this great starry harvest of six thousand years?
‘And shall Necker, the hind of Geneva, stretch out his crook’d sickle o’er fertile France,
PAGE 6
‘Till our purple and crimson is faded to russet, and the kingdoms of earth bound in sheaves,
‘And the ancient forests of chivalry hewn, and the joys of the combat burnt for fuel;
‘Till the power and dominion is rent from the pole, sword and scepter from sun and moon,
‘The law and gospel from fire and air, and eternal reason and science
‘From the deep and the solid, and man lay his faded head down on the rock
‘Of eternity, where the eternal lion and eagle remain to devour?
‘This to prevent, urg’d by cries in day, and prophetic dreams hovering in night,
‘To enrich the lean earth that craves, furrow’d with plows; whose seed is departing from her;
100 ‘Thy Nobles have gather’d thy starry hosts round this rebellious city
‘To rouze up the ancient forests of Europe, with clarions of [loud] breathing war;
‘To hear the horse neigh to the drum and trumpet, and the trumpet and war shout reply;
‘Stretch the hand that beckons the eagles of heaven; they cry over Paris, and wait
‘Till Fayette point his finger to Versailles; the eagles of heaven must have their prey.’
The King lean’d on his mountains, then lifted his head and look’d on his armies, that shone
Through heaven, tinging morning with beams of blood, then turning to Burgundy troubled:
PAGE 7
‘Burgundy, thou wast born a lion! My soul is o’ergrown with distress
‘For the Nobles of France, and dark mists roll round me and blot the writing of God
‘Written in my bosom. Necker rise, leave the kingdom, thy life is surrounded with snares;
110 ‘We have call’d an Assembly, but not to destroy; we have given gifts, not to the weak;
‘I hear rushing of muskets, and bright’ning of swords, and visages redd’ning with war,
‘Frowning and looking up from brooding villages and every dark’ning city;
‘Ancient wonders frown over the kingdom, and cries of women and babes are heard,
‘And tempests of doubt roll around me, and fierce sorrows, because of the Nobles of France;
‘Depart, answer not, for the tempest must fall, as in years that are passed away.’
He ceas’d, and burn’d silent, red clouds roll round Necker, a weeping is heard o’er the palace;
Like a dark cloud Necker paus’d, and like thunder on the just man’s burial day he paus’d;
Silent sit the winds, silent the meadows, while the husbandman and woman of weakness
And bright children look after him into the grave, and water his clay with love,
120 Then turn towards pensive fields; so Necker paus’d, and his visage was cover’d with clouds.
Dropping a tear the old man his place left, and when he was gone out
He set his face toward Geneva to flee, and the women and children of the city
Kneel’d round him and kissed his garments and wept; he stood a short space in the street,
Then fled; and the whole city knew he was fled to Geneva, and the Senate heard it.
But the Nobles burn’d wrathful at Necker’s departure, and wreath’d their clouds and waters
In dismal volumes; as risen from beneath the Archbishop of Paris arose,
In the rushing of scales and hissing of flames and rolling of sulphurous smoke.
‘Hearken, Monarch of France, to the terrors of heaven, and let thy soul drink of my counsel;
‘Sleeping at midnight in my golden tower, the repose of the labours of men
130 ‘Wav’d its solemn cloud over my head. I awoke; a cold hand passed over my limbs, and behold
‘An aged form, white as snow, hov’ring in mist, weeping in the uncertain light,
PAGE 8
‘Dim the form almost faded, tears fell down the shady cheeks; at his feet many cloth’d
‘In white robes, strewn in air censers and harps, silent they lay prostrated;
‘Beneath, in the awful void, myriads descending and weeping thro’ dismal winds,
‘Endless the shady train shiv’ring descended, from the gloom where the aged form wept.
‘At length, trembling, the vision sighing, in a low voice, like the voice of the grasshopper whisper’d:
‘“My groaning is heard in the abbeys, and God, so long worshipp’d, departs as a lamp
‘“Without oil; for a curse is heard hoarse thro’ the land, from a godless race
‘“Descending to beasts; they look downward and labour and forget my holy law;
140 ‘“The sound of prayer fails from lips of flesh, and the holy hymn from thicken’d tongues:
‘“For the bars of Chaos are burst; her millions prepare their fiery way
‘“Thro’ the orbed abode of the holy dead, to root up and pull down and remove,
‘“And Nobles and Clergy shall fail from before me, and my cloud and vision be no more;
‘“The mitre become black, the crown vanish, and the scepter and ivory staff
‘“Of the ruler wither among bones of death; they shall consume from the thistly field,
‘“And the sound of the bell, and voice of the sabbath, and singing of the holy choir,
‘“Is turn’d into songs of the harlot in day, and cries of the virgin in night.
‘“They shall drop at the plow and faint at the harrow, unredeem’d, unconfess’d, unpardon’d;
‘“The priest rot in his surplice by the lawless lover, the holy beside the accursed,
150 ‘“The King, frowning in purple, beside the grey plowman, and their worms embrace together.”
‘The voice ceas’d, a groan shook my chamber; I slept, for the cloud of repose returned,
‘But morning dawn’d heavy upon me. I rose to bring my Prince heaven utter’d counsel.
‘Hear my counsel, O King, and send forth thy Generals, the command of Heaven is upon thee;
‘Then do thou command, O King, to shut up this Assembly in their final home;
PAGE 9
‘Let thy soldiers possess this city of rebels, that threaten to bathe their feet
‘In the blood of Nobility; trampling the heart and the head; let the Bastile devour
‘These rebellious seditious; seal them up, O Anointed, in everlasting chains.’
He sat down, a damp cold pervaded the Nobles, and monsters of worlds unknown
Swam round them, watching to be delivered; When Aumont, whose chaos-born soul
160 Eternally wand’ring a Comet and swift-falling fire, pale enter’d the chamber;
Before the red Council he stood, like a man that returns from hollow graves.
‘Awe surrounded, alone thro’ the army a fear and a with’ring blight blown by the north;
‘The Abbe de S[i]eyes from the Nation’s Assembly. O Princes and Generals of France,
‘Unquestioned, unhindered, awe-struck are the soldiers; a dark shadowy man in the form
‘Of King Henry the Fourth walks before him in fires, the captains like men bound in chains
‘Stood still as he pass’d, he is come to the Louvre, O King, with a message to thee;
‘The strong soldiers tremble, the horses their manes bow, and the guards of thy palace are fled.’
Up rose awful in his majestic beams Bourbon’s strong Duke; his proud sword from his thigh
Drawn, he threw on the Earth! the Duke of Bretagne and the Earl of Borgogne
170 Rose inflam’d, to and fro in the chamber, like thunder-clouds ready to burst.
‘What, damp all our fires, O spectre of Henry,’ said Bourbon; ‘and rend the flames
‘From the head of our King! Rise, Monarch of France; command me, and I will lead
‘This army of superstition at large, that the ardor of noble souls quenchless,
‘May yet burn in France, nor our shoulders be plow’d with the furrows of poverty.’
PAGE 10
Then Orleans generous as mountains arose, and unfolded his robe, and put forth
His benevolent hand, looking on the Archbishop, who changed as pale as lead;
Would have risen but could not, his voice issued harsh grating; instead of words harsh hissings
Shook the chamber; he ceas’d abash’d. Then Orleans spoke, all was silent,
He breath’d on them, and said, ‘O princes of fire, whose flames are for growth not consuming,
180 ‘Fear not dreams, fear not visions, nor be you dismay’d with sorrows which flee at the morning;
‘Can the fires of Nobility ever be quench’d, or the stars by a stormy night?
‘Is the body diseas’d when the members are healthful? can the man be bound in sorrow
‘Whose ev’ry function is fill’d with its fiery desire? can the soul whose brain and heart
‘Cast their rivers in equal tides thro’ the great Paradise, languish because the feet
‘Hands, head, bosom, and parts of love, follow their high breathing joy?
‘And can Nobles be bound when the people are free, or God weep when his children are happy?
‘Have you never seen Fayette’s forehead, or Mirabeau’s eyes, or the shoulders of Target,
‘Or Bailly the strong foot of France, or Clermont the terrible voice, and your robes
‘Still retain their own crimson? mine never yet faded, for fire delights in its form.
190 ‘But go, merciless man! enter into the infinite labyrinth of another’s brain
‘Ere thou measure the circle that he shall run. Go, thou cold recluse, into the fires
‘Of another’s high flaming rich bosom, and return unconsum’d, and write laws.
‘If thou can’st not do this, doubt thy theories, learn to consider all men as thy equals,
‘Thy brethern, and not as thy foot or thy hand, unless thou first fearest to hurt them.’
The Monarch stood up, the strong Duke his sword to its golden scabbard return’d,
The Nobles sat round like clouds on the mountains, when the storm is passing away.
PAGE II
‘Let the Nation’s Ambassador come among Nobles, like incense of the valley.’
Aumont went out and stood in the hollow porch, his ivory wand in his hand;
A cold orb of disdain revolv’d round him, and covered his soul with snows eternal.
200 Great Henry’s soul shuddered, a whirlwind and fire tore furious from his angry bosom;
He indignant departed on horses of heav’n. Then the Abbe de S[i]eyes rais’d his feet
On the steps of the Louvre, like a voice of God following a storm, the Abbe follow’d
The pale fires of Aumont into the chamber, as a father that bows to his son;
Whose rich fields inheriting spread their old glory, so the voice of the people bowed
Before the ancient seat of the kingdom and mountains to be renewed.
‘Hear, O Heavens of France, the voice of the people, arising from valley and hill,
‘O’erclouded with power. Hear the voice of vallies, the voice of meek cities,
‘Mourning oppressed on village and field, till the village and field is a waste.
‘For the husbandman weeps at blights of the fife, and blasting of trumpets consume
210 ‘The souls of mild France; the pale mother nourishes her child to the deadly slaughter.
‘When the heavens were seal’d with a stone, and the terrible sun clos’d in an orb, and the moon
‘Rent from the nations, and each star appointed for watchers of night,
‘The millions of spirits immortal were bound in the ruins of sulphur heaven
‘To wander inslav’d; black, deprest in dark ignorance, kept in awe with the whip,
‘To worship terrors, bred from the blood of revenge and breath of desire,
‘In beastial forms; or more terrible men, till the dawn of our peaceful morning,
‘Till dawn, till morning, till the breaking of clouds, and swelling of winds, and the universal voice,
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‘Till man raise his darken’d limbs out of the caves of night, his eyes and his heart
‘Expand: where is space! where O Sun is thy dwelling! where thy tent, O faint slumb’rous Moon.
220 ‘Then the valleys of France shall cry to the soldier, “throw down thy sword and musket,
‘“And run and embrace the meek peasant.” Her Nobles shall hear and shall weep, and put off
‘The red robe of terror, the crown of oppression, the shoes of contempt, and unbuckle
‘The girdle of war from the desolate earth; then the Priest in his thund’rous cloud
‘Shall weep, bending to earth embracing the valleys, and putting his hand to the plow,
‘Shall say, “No more I curse thee; but now I will bless thee: No more in deadly black
‘“Devour thy labour; nor lift up a cloud in thy heavens, O laborious plow,
‘“That the wild raging millions, that wander in forests, and howl in law blasted wastes,
‘“Strength madden’d with slavery, honesty, bound in the dens of superstition,
‘“May sing in the village, and shout in the harvest, and woo in pleasant gardens,
230 ‘“Their once savage loves, now beaming with knowledge, with gentle awe adorned;
‘“And the saw, and the hammer, the chisel, the pencil, the pen, and the instruments
‘“Of heavenly song sound in the wilds once forbidden, to teach the laborious plowman
‘“And shepherd deliver’d from clouds of war, from pestilence, from night-fear, from murder,
‘“From falling, from stifling, from hunger, from cold, from slander, discontent and sloth;
‘“That walk in beasts and birds of night, driven back by the sandy desart
‘“Like pestilent fogs round cities of men: and the happy earth sing in its course,
‘“The mild peaceable nations be opened to heav’n, and men walk with their fathers in bliss.”
‘Then hear the first voice of the morning: “Depart, O clouds of night, and no more
‘“Return; be withdrawn cloudy war, troops of warriors depart, nor around our peaceable city
240 ‘“Breathe fires, but ten miles from Paris, let all be peace, nor a soldier be seen!”
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He ended; the wind of contention arose and the clouds cast their shadows, the Princes
Like the mountains of France, whose aged trees utter an awful voice, and their branches
Are shatter’d, till gradual a murmur is heard descending into the valley,
Like a voice in the vineyards of Burgundy, when grapes are shaken on grass;
Like the low voice of the labouring man, instead of the shout of joy;
And the palace appear’d like a cloud driven abroad; blood ran down the ancient pillars,
Thro’ the cloud a deep thunder, the Duke of Burgundy, delivers the King’s command.
‘Seest thou yonder dark castle, that moated around, keeps this city of Paris in awe.
‘Go command yonder tower, saying, “Bastile depart, and take thy shadowy course.
250 ‘“Overstep the dark river, thou terrible tower, and get thee up into the country ten miles.
‘“And thou black southern prison, move along the dusky road to Versailles; there
‘“Frown on the gardens”, and if it obey and depart, then the King will disband
‘This war-breathing army; but if it refuse, let the Nation’s Assembly thence learn,
‘That this army of terrors, that prison of horrors, are the bands of the murmuring kingdom.’
Like the morning star arising above the black waves, when a shipwreck’d soul sighs for morning,
Thro’ the ranks, silent, walk’d the Ambassador back to the Nation’s Assembly, and told
The unwelcome message; silent they heard; then a thunder roll’d round loud and louder,
Like pillars of ancient halls, and ruins of times remote they sat.
Like a voice from the dim pillars Mirabeau rose; the thunders subsided away;
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260 A rushing of wings around him was heard as he brighten’d, and cried out aloud,
‘Where is the General of the Nation?’ the walls reecho’d: ‘Where is the General of the Nation?’
Sudden as the bullet wrapp’d in his fire, when brazen cannons rage in the field,
Fayette sprung from his seat saying, Ready! then bowing like clouds, man toward man, the Assembly
Like a council of ardors seated in clouds, bending over the cities of men,
And over the armies of strife, where their children are marshall’d together to battle;
They murmuring divide, while the wind sleeps beneath, and the numbers are counted in silence,
While they vote the removal of War, and the pestilence weighs his red wings in the sky.
So Fayette stood silent among the Assembly, and the votes were given and the numbers numb’red;
And the vote was, that Fayette should order the army to remove ten miles from Paris.
270 The aged sun rises appall’d from dark mountains, and gleams a dusky beam
On Fayette, but on the whole army a shadow, for a cloud on the eastern hills
Hover’d, and stretch’d across the city and across the army, and across the Louvre,
Like a flame of fire he stood before dark ranks, and before expecting captains
On pestilent vapours around him flow frequent spectres of religious men weeping
In winds driven out of the abbeys, their naked souls shiver in keen open air,
Driven out by the fiery cloud of Voltaire, and thund’rous rocks of Rousseau,
They dash like foam against the ridges of the army, uttering a faint feeble cry.
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Gleams of fire streak the heavens, and of sulphur the earth, from Fayette as he lifted his hand;
But silent he stood, till all the officers rush round him like waves
280 Round the shore of France, in day of the British flag, when heavy cannons
Affright the coasts, and the peasant looks over the sea and wipes a tear;
Over his head the soul of Voltaire shone fiery, and over the army Rousseau his white cloud
Unfolded, on souls of war-living terrors silent list’ning toward Fayette,
His voice loud inspir’d by liberty, and by spirits of the dead, thus thunder’d.
‘The Nation’s Assembly command, that the Army remove ten miles from Paris;
‘Nor a soldier be seen in road or in field, till the Nation command return.’
Rushing along iron ranks glittering the officers each to his station
Depart, and the stern captain strokes his proud steed, and in front of his solid ranks
Waits the sound of trumpet; captains of foot stand each by his cloudy drum;
290 Then the drum beats, and the steely ranks move, and trumpets rejoice in the sky.
Dark cavalry like clouds fraught with thunder ascend on the hills, and bright infantry, rank
Behind rank, to the soul shaking drum and shrill fife along the roads glitter like fire.
The noise of trampling, the wind of trumpets, smote the palace walls with a blast.
Pale and cold sat the King in midst of his peers, and his noble heart sunk, and his pulses
Suspended their motion, a darkness crept over his eye-lids, and chill cold sweat
Sat round his brows faded in faint death, his peers pale like mountains of the dead,
Cover’d with dews of night, groaning, shaking forests and floods. The cold newt
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And snake, and damp toad, on the kingly foot crawl, or croak on the awful knee,
Shedding their slime, in folds of the robe the crown’d adder builds and hisses
300 From stony brows; shaken the forests of France, sick the kings of the nations,
And the bottoms of the world were open’d, and the graves of arch-angels unseal’d;
The enormous dead, lift up their pale fires and look over the rocky cliffs.
A faint heat from their fires reviv’d the cold Louvre; the frozen blood reflow’d.
Awful up rose the king, him the peers follow’d, they saw the courts of the Palace
Forsaken, and Paris without a soldier, silent, for the noise was gone up
And follow’d the army, and the Senate in peace, sat beneath morning’s beam.
END OF THE FIRST BOOK
[No further books are extant.]
THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL
PLATE 2
THE ARGUMENT
Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burdend air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep
Once meek, and in a perilous path,
The just man kept his course along
The vale of death.
Roses are planted where thorns grow.
And on the barren heath
Sing the honey bees.
Then the perilous path was planted:
10 And a river, and a spring
On every cliff and tomb;
And on the bleached bones
Red clay brought forth.
Till the villain left the paths of ease,
To walk in perilous paths, and drive
The just man into barren climes.
Now the sneaking serpent walks
In mild humility.
And the just man rages in the wilds
20 Where lions roam.
Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burdend air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.
PLATE 3
As a new heaven is begun, and it is now thirty-three years since its advent: the Eternal Hell revives. And lo! Swedenborg is the Angel sitting at the tomb; his writings are the linen clothes folded up. Now is the dominion of Edom, & the return of Adam into Paradise; see Isaiah XXXIV & XXXV Chap:
Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence.
10 From these contraries spring what the religious call Good & Evil. Good is the passive that obeys Reason[.] Evil is the active springing from Energy.
Good is Heaven.
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