Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) (159 page)

First as a red Globe of blood trembling beneath his bosom[.]

Suspended over her he hung: he infolded her in his garments

Of wool: he hid her from the Spectre, in shame & confusion of

Face; in terrors & pains of Hell & Eternal Death, the

Trembling Globe shot forth Self-living & Los howld over it:

Feeding it with his groans & tears day & night without ceasing:

And the Spectrous Darkness from his back divided in temptations,

And in grinding agonies in threats: stiflings: & direful strugglings.

Go thou to Skofield: ask him if he is Bath or if he is Canterbury

60
 
Tell him to be no more dubious: demand explicit words

Tell him: I will dash him into shivers, where & at what time

I please: tell Hand & Skofield they are my ministers of evil

To those I hate: for I can hate also as well as they!

PLATE 18

From every-one of the Four Regions of Human Majesty,

There is an Outside spread Without, & an Outside spread Within

Beyond the Outline of Identity both ways, which meet in One:

An orbed Void of doubt, despair, hunger, & thirst & sorrow.

Here the Twelve Sons of Albion, join’d in dark Assembly,

Jealous of Jerusalems children, asham’d of her little-ones

(For Vala produc’d the Bodies. Jerusalem gave the Souls)

Became as Three Immense Wheels, turning upon one-another

Into Non-Entity, and their thunders hoarse appall the Dead

10
 
To murder their own Souls, to build a Kingdom among the Dead

Cast! Cast ye Jerusalem forth! The Shadow of delusions!

The Harlot daughter! Mother of pity and dishonourable forgiveness

Our Father Albions sin and shame! But father now no more!

Nor sons. nor hateful peace & love, nor soft complacencies

With transgressors meeting in brotherhood around the table,

Or in the porch or garden. No more the sinful delights

Of age and youth and boy and girl and animal and herb,

And river and mountain, and city & village, and house & family,

Beneath the Oak & Palm, beneath the Vine and Fig-tree,

20
 
In self-denial! – But War and deadly contention, Between

Father and Son, and light and love! All bold asperities

Of Haters met in deadly strife, rending the house & garden

The unforgiving porches, the tables of enmity, and beds

And chambers of trembling & suspition, hatreds of age & youth

And boy & girl, & animal & herb, & river & mountain

And city & village, and house & family. That the Perfect,

May live in glory, redeem’d by Sacrifice of the Lamb

And of his children, before sinful Jerusalem. To build

Babylon the City of Vala, the Goddess Virgin-Mother.

30
 
She is our Mother! Nature! Jerusalem is our Harlot-Sister

Return’d with Children of pollution, to defile our House,

With Sin and Shame. Cast! Cast her into the Potters field.

Her little-ones, She must slay upon our Altars: and her aged

Parents must be carried into captivity, to redeem her Soul

To be for a Shame & a Curse, and to be our Slaves for ever

So cry Hand & Hyle the eldest of the fathers of Albions

Little-ones; to destroy the Divine Saviour; the Friend of Sinners,

Building Castles in desolated places, and strong Fortifications.

Soon Hand mightily devour’d & absorb’d Albions Twelve Sons.

40
 
Out from his bosom a mighty Polypus, vegetating in darkness,

And Hyle & Coban were his two chosen ones, for Emissaries

In War: forth from his bosom they went and return’d,

Like Wheels from a great Wheel reflected in the Deep.

Hoarse turn’d the Starry Wheels, rending a way in Albions Loins

Beyond the Night of Beulah. In a dark & unknown Night,

Outstretch’d his Giant beauty on the ground in pain & tears:

PLATE 19

His Children exil’d from his breast pass to and fro before him

His birds are silent on his hills, flocks die beneath his branches

His tents are fall’n! his trumpets, and the sweet sound of his harp

Are silent on his clouded hills, that belch forth storms & fire.

His milk of Cows, & honey of Bees, & fruit of golden harvest,

Is gather’d in the scorching heat, & in the driving rain:

Where once he sat he weary walks in misery and pain:

His Giant beauty and perfection fallen into dust:

Till from within his witherd breast grown narrow with his woes:

10
 
The corn is turn’d to thistles & the apples into poison:

The birds of song to murderous crows, his joys to bitter groans!

The voices of children in his tents, to cries of helpless infants!

And self-exiled from the face of light & shine of morning,

In the dark world a narrow house! he wanders up and down,

Seeking for rest and finding none! and hidden far within,

His Eon weeping in the cold and desolated Earth.

All his Affections now appear withoutside: all his Sons,

Hand, Hyle & Coban, Guantok, Peachey, Brereton, Slayd & Hutton,

Scofeld, Kox, Kotope & Bowen; his Twelve Sons: Satanic Mill!

20
 
Who are the Spectres of the Twentyfour, each Double-form’d:

Revolve upon his mountains groaning in pain: beneath

The dark incessant sky, seeking for rest and finding none:

Raging against their Human natures, ravning to gormandize

The Human majesty and beauty of the Twentyfour,

Condensing them into solid rocks with cruelty and abhorrence

Suspition & revenge, & the seven diseases of the Soul

Settled around Albion and around Luvah in his secret cloud[.]

Willing the Friends endur’d, for Albions sake, and for

Jerusalem his Emanation shut within his bosom;

30
 
Which hardend against them more and more; as he builded onwards

On the Gulph of Death in self-righteousness, that roll’d

Before his awful feet, in pride of virtue for victory:

And Los was roofd in from Eternity in Albions Cliffs

Which stand upon the ends of Beulah, and withoutside, all

Appear’d a rocky form against the Divine Humanity.

Albions Circumference was clos’d: his Center began darkning

Into the Night of Beulah, and the Moon of Beulah rose

Clouded with storms: Los his strong Guard walkd round

beneath the Moon

And Albion fled inward among the currents of his rivers.

40
 
He found Jerusalem upon the River of his City soft repos’d

In the arms of Vala, assimilating in one with Vala

The Lilly of Havilah: and they sang soft thro’ Lambeths vales,

In a sweet moony night & silence that they had created

With a blue sky spread over with wings and a mild moon,

Dividing & uniting into many female forms: Jerusalem

Trembling! then in one comingling in eternal tears,

Sighing to melt his Giant beauty, on the moony river.

PLATE 20

But when they saw Albion fall’n upon mild Lambeths vale:

Astonish’d! Terrified! they hover’d over his Giant limbs.

Then thus Jerusalem spoke, while Vala wove the veil of tears:

Weeping in pleadings of Love, in the web of despair.

Wherefore hast thou shut me into the winter of human life

And clos’d up the sweet regions of youth and virgin innocence:

Where we live, forgetting error, not pondering on evil:

Among my lambs & brooks of water, among my warbling birds:

Where we delight in innocence before the face of the Lamb:

10
 
Going in and out before him in his love and sweet affection.

Vala replied weeping & trembling, hiding in her veil.

When winter rends the hungry family and the snow falls:

Upon the ways of men hiding the paths of man and beast,

Then mourns the wanderer: then he repents his wanderings & eyes

The distant forest; then the slave groans in the dungeon of stone.

The captive in the mill of the stranger, sold for scanty hire.

They view their former life: they number moments over and over;

Stringing them on their remembrance as on a thread of sorrow.

Thou art my sister and my daughter! thy shame is mine also!

20
 
Ask me not of my griefs! thou knowest all my griefs.

Jerusalem answer’d with soft tears over the valleys.

O Vala what is Sin? that thou shudderest and weepest

At sight of thy once lov’d Jerusalem! What is Sin but a little

Error & fault that is soon forgiven; but mercy is not a Sin

Nor pity nor love nor kind forgiveness! O! if I have Sinned

Forgive & pity me! O! unfold thy Veil in mercy & love!

Slay not my little ones, beloved Virgin daughter of Babylon

Slay not my infant loves & graces, beautiful daughter of Moab

I cannot put off the human form I strive but strive in vain

30
 
When Albion rent thy beautiful net of gold and silver twine;

Thou hadst woven it with art, thou hadst caught me in the bands

Of love; thou refusedst to let me go: Albion beheld thy beauty

Beautiful thro’ our Love’s comeliness, beautiful thro’ pity.

The Veil shone with thy brightness in the eyes of Albion,

Because it inclosd pity & love; because we lov’d one-another!

Albion lov’d thee! he rent thy Veil! he embrac’d thee! he lov’d thee!

Astonish’d at his beauty & perfection, thou forgavest his furious love:

I redounded from Albions bosom in my virgin loveliness.

The Lamb of God reciev’d me in his arms he smil’d upon us:

40
 
He made me his Bride & Wife: he gave thee to Albion.

Then was a time of love: O why is it passed away!

Then Albion broke silence and with groans reply’d

PLATE 21

O Vala! O Jerusalem! do you delight in my groans

You O lovely forms, you have prepared my death-cup:

The disease of Shame covers me from head to feet: I have no hope

Every boil upon my body is a separate & deadly Sin.

Doubt first assaild me, then Shame took possession of me

Shame divides Families. Shame hath divided Albion in sunder!

First fled my Sons, & then my Daughters, then my Wild Animations

My Cattle next, last ev’n the Dog of my Gate. the Forests fled

The Corn-fields, & the breathing Gardens outside separated

10
 
The Sea; the Stars: the Sun: the Moon: drivn forth by my disease

All is Eternal Death unless you can weave a chaste

Body over an unchaste Mind! Vala! O that thou wert pure!

That the deep wound of Sin might be clos’d up with the Needle,

And with the Loom: to cover Gwendolen & Ragan with costly Robes

Of Natural Virtue[,] for their Spiritual forms without a Veil

Wither in Luvahs Sepulcher. I thrust him from my presence

And all my Children followd his loud howlings into the Deep.

Jerusalem! dissembler Jerusalem! I look into thy bosom:

I discover thy secret places: Cordella! I behold

20
 
Thee whom I thought pure as the heavens in innocence &fear:

Thy Tabernacle taken down, thy secret Cherubim disclosed

Art thou broken? Ah me Sabrina, running by my side: