The Portable Blake
Page 29
Innumerable the gins & traps, & many a soothing flute
Is form’d, & many a corded lyre outspread over the immense.
In cruel delight they trap the listeners, & in cruel delight
Bind them, condensing the strong energies into little compass.
Some became seed of every plant that shall be planted; some
The bulbous roots, thrown up together into barns & garners.
Then rose the Builders. First the Architect divine his plan
Unfolds. The wondrous scaffold rear’d all round the infinite,
Quadrangular the building rose, the heavens squared by a line,
Trigons & cubes divide the elements in finite bonds.
Multitudes without number work incessant: the hewn stone
Is plac’d in beds of mortar mingled with the ashes of Vala.
Severe the labour; female slaves the mortar trod oppressed.
Twelve halls after the names of his twelve sons compos’ d
The wondrous building, & three Central Domes after the Names
Of his three daughters were encompass’d by the twelve bright halls.
Every hall surrounded by bright Paradises of Delight
In which were towns & Cities, Nations, Seas, Mountains & Rivers.
Each Dome open’d toward four halls, & the Three Domes Encompass’d
The Golden Hall of Urizen, whose western side glow’d bright
With ever streaming fires beaming from his awful limbs.
His Shadowy Feminine Semblance here repos’d on a White Couch,
Or hover’d over his starry head; & when he smil’d she brighten’d
Like a bright Cloud in harvest; but when Urizen frown’d she wept
In mists over his carved throne; & when he turned his back
Upon his Golden hall & sought the Labyrinthine porches
Of his wide heaven, Trembling, cold, in jealous fears she sat
A shadow of Despair; therefore toward the West, Urizen form’d
A recess in the wall for fires to glow upon the pale
Female’s limbs in his absence, & her Daughters oft upon
A Golden Altar burnt perfumes: with Art Celestial form’d
Foursquare, sculptur’d & sweetly Engrav’d to please their shadowy mother.
Ascending into her misty garments the blue smoke roll’d to revive
Her cold limbs in the absence of her Lord. Also her sons,
With lives of Victims sacrificed upon an altar of brass
On the East side, Reviv’d her soul with lives of beasts & birds
Slain on the Altar, up ascending into her cloudy bosom.
Of terrible workmanship the Altar, labour of ten thousand Slaves,
One thousand Men of wondrous power spent their lives in its formation.
It stood on twelve steps nam’d after the names of her twelve sons,
And was erected at the chief entrance of Urizen’s hall.
But infinitely beautiful the wondrous work arose
In sorrow and care, a Golden World whose porches round the heavens
And pillar’d halls & rooms reciev’d the eternal wandering stars.
A wondrous golden Building, many a window, many a door
And many a division let in & out the vast unknown.
Circled in infinite orb immoveable, within its walls & cielings
The heavens were clos’d, and spirits mourn’d their bondage night & day,
And the Divine Vision appear’d in Luvah’s robes of blood.
Thus was the Mundane shell builded by Urizen’s strong Power.
[THE SONG OF ENITHARMON OVER LOS]
“I sieze the sphery harp. I strike the strings.
“At the first sound the Golden sun arises from the deep
And shakes his awful hair,
The Eccho wakes the moon to unbind her silver locks,
The golden sun bears on my song
And nine bright spheres of harmony rise round the fiery king.
“The joy of woman is the death of her most best beloved
Who dies for Love of her
In torments of fierce jealousy & pangs of adoration.
The Lovers’ night bears on my song
And the nine spheres rejoice beneath my powerful controll.
“They sing unceasing to the notes of my immortal hand.
The solemn, silent moon
Reverberates the living harmony upon my limbs,
The birds & beasts rejoice & play,
And every one seeks for his mate to prove his inmost joy.
“Furious & terrible they sport & red the nether deep;
The deep lifts up his rugged head,
And lost in infinite humming wings vanishes with a cry.
The fading cry is ever dying,
The living voice is ever living in its inmost joy.
“Arise, you little glancing wings & sing your infant joy!
Arise & drink your bliss!
For every thing that lives is holy; for the source of life
Descends to be a weeping babe;
For the Earthworm renews the moisture of the sandy plain.
“Now my left hand I stretch to earth beneath,
And strike the terrible string.
I wake sweet joy in dens of sorrow & I plant a smile
In forests of affliction,
And wake the bubbling springs of life in regions of dark death.
“O, I am weary ! lay thine hand upon me or I faint,
I faint beneath these beams of thine,
For thou hast touch’d my five senses & they answer’d thee.
Now I am nothing, & I sink
And on the bed of silence sleep till thou awakest me.”
Thus sang the Lovely one in Rapturous delusive trance.
Los heard, reviving; he siez’d her in his arms; delusive hopes
Kindling, she led him into shadows & thence fled out-stretch’ d Upon the immense like a bright rainbow, weeping & smiling & fading.
[ENION’S COMPLAINT]
“I am made to sow the thistle for wheat, the nettle for a nourishing dainty.
I have planted a false oath in the earth; it has brought forth a poison tree.
I have chosen the serpent for a councellor, & the dog
For a schoolmaster to my children.
I have blotted out from light & living the dove & nightingale,
And I have caused the earth worm to beg from door to door.
“I have taught the thief a secret path into the house of the just.
I have taught pale artifice to spread his nets upon the morning.
My heavens are brass, my earth is iron, my moon a clod of clay,
My sun a pestilence burning at noon & a vapour of death in night.
“What is the price of Experience? do men buy it for a song?
Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the price
Of all that a man hath, his house, his wife, his children.
Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy,
And in the wither’d field where the farmer plows for bread in vain.
“It is an easy thing to triumph in the summer’s sun
And in the vintage & to sing on the waggon loaded with corn.
It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted,
To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wanderer,
To listen to the hungry raven’s cry in wintry season
When the red blood is fill’d with wine & with the marrow of lambs.
“It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements,
To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moan;
To see a god on every wind & a blessing on every blast;
To hear sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies’ house;
To rejoice in the blight that covers his field, & the sickness that cuts off his children,
While our olive & vine sing &
laugh round our door, & our children bring fruits & flowers.
“Then the groan & the dolor are quite forgotten, & the slave grinding at the mill,
And the captive in chains, & the poor in the prison, & the soldier in the field
When the shatter’d bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead.
“It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity:
Thus could I sing & thus rejoice: but it is not so with me.”
[THE SORROWS OF THARMAS]
And he said: “Wherefore do I feel such love & pity?
Ah, Enionl Ah, Enionl Ah, lovely, lovely Enion!
How is this? All my hope is gone! for ever fled!
Like a famish’d Eagle, Eyeless, raging in the vast expanse,
Incessant tears are now my food, incessant rage & tears.
Deathless for ever now I wander seeking oblivion
In torrents of despair: in vain; for if I plunge beneath,
Stifling I live: If dash’d in pieces from a rocky height,
I reunite in endless torment; would I had never risen
From death’s cold sleep beneath the bottom of the raging Ocean.
And cannot those who once have lov’d ever forget their Love?
Are love & rage the same passion? they are the same in me.
Are those who love like those who died, risen again from death,
Immortal in immortal torment, never to be deliver’d?
Is it not possible that one risen again from death
Can die? When dark despair comes over, can I not
Flow down into the sea & slumber in oblivion? Ah Enion,
Deform’d I see these lineaments of ungratified desire.
The all powerful curse of an honest man be upon Urizen & Luvah.
But thou, My Son, Glorious in Brightness, comforter of Tharmas,
Go forth, Rebuild this Universe beneath my indignant power,
A Universe of Death & Decay. Let Enitharmon’s hands
Weave soft delusive forms of Man above my wat’ry world;
Renew these ruin’d souls of Men thro’ Earth, Sea, Air & Fire,
To waste in endless corruption, renew those I will destroy.
Perhaps Enion may resume some little semblance
To ease my pangs of heart & to restore some peace to Tharmas.”
[THE BINDING OF URIZEN]
And thus began the binding of Urizen; day & night in fear
Circling round the dark Demon, with howlings, dismay & sharp blightings,
The Prophet of Eternity beat on his iron links & links of brass;
And as he beat round the hurtling Demon, terrified at the Shapes
Enslav’d humanity put on, he became what he beheld.
Raging against Tharmas his God, & uttering
Ambiguous words, blasphemous, fill’d with envy, firm resolv’d
On hate Eternal, in his vast disdain he labour’d beating
The Links of fate, link after link, an endless chain of sorrows.
[SUCH IS THE DEMON]
His limbs bound down mock at his chains, for over them a flame
Of circling fire unceasing plays; to feed them with life & bring
The virtues of the Eternal worlds, ten thousand thousand spirits
Of life lament around the Demon, going forth & returning.
At his enormous call they flee into the heavens of heavens
And back return with wine & food, or dive into the deeps
To bring the thrilling joys of sense to quell his ceaseless rage.
His eyes, the lights of his large soul, contract or else expand :
Contracted they behold the secrets of the infinite mountains,
The veins of gold & silver & the hidden things of Vala,
Whatever grows from its pure bud or breathes a fragrant soul:
Expanded they behold the terrors of the Sun & Moon,
The Elemental Planets & the orbs of eccentric fire.
His nostrils breathe a fiery flame, his locks are like the forests
Of wild beasts; there the lion glares, the tyger & wolf howl there,
And there the Eagle hides her young in cliffs & precipices.
His bosom is like starry heaven expanded; all the stars
Sing round; there waves the harvest & the vintage rejoices ; the springs
Flow into rivers of delight; there the spontaneous flowers
Drink, laugh & sing, the grasshopper, the Emmet and the Fly;
The golden Moth builds there a house & spreads her silken bed.
His loins inwove with silken fires are like a furnace fierce:
As the strong Bull in summer time when bees sing round the heath
Where the herds low after the shadow & after the water spring,
The num’rous flocks cover the mountains & shine along the valley.
His knees are rocks of adament & rubie & emerald:
Spirits of strength in Palaces rejoice in golden armour
Armed with spear & shield they drink & rejoice over the slain.
Such is the Demon, such his terror on the nether deep.
[THE WOES OF URIZEN]
The Woes of Urizen shut up in the deep dens of Urthona :
“Ahl how shall Urizen the King submit to this dark mansion?
Ah! how is this? Once on the heights I stretch’d my throne sublime;
The mountains of Urizen, once of silver, where the sons of wisdom dwelt,
And on whose tops the Virgins sang, are rocks of desolation.
“My fountains, once the haunt of swans, now breed the scaly tortoise,
The houses of my harpers are become a haunt of crows,
The gardens of wisdom are become a field of horrid graves,
And on the bones I drop my tears & water them in vain.
“Once how I walked from my palace in gardens of delight,
The sons of wisdom stood around, the harpers follow’d with harps,
Nine virgins cloth’d in light compos’d the song to their immortal voices,
And at my banquets of new wine my head was crown’d with joy.
“Then in my ivory pavilions I slumber’d in the noon
And walked in the silent night among sweet smelling flowers,
Till on my silver bed I slept & sweet dreams round me hover’d,
But now my land is darken’d & my wise men are departed.
“My songs are turned into cries of Lamentation
Heard on my Mountains, & deep sighs under my palace roofs,
Because the Steeds of Urizen, once swifter than the light,
Were kept back from my Lord & from his chariot of mercies.
“O did I keep the horses of the day in silver pastures!
O I refus’d the lord of day the horses of his prince!
O did I close my treasuries with roofs of solid stone
And darken all my Palace walls with envyings & hate!
“0 Fool! to think that I could hide from his all piercing eyes
The gold & silver & costly stone, his holy workmanship !
O Fool! could I forget the light that filled my bright spheres
Was a reflection of his face who call’d me from the deep!
“I well remember, for I heard the mild & holy voice
Saying, ‘O light, spring up & shine,’ & I sprang up from the deep.
He gave me a silver scepter, & crown’d me with a golden crown,
& said, ‘Co forth & guide my Son who wanders on the ocean.’
“I went not forth: I hid myself in black clouds of my wrath;
I call’d the stars around my feet in the night of councils dark;
The stars threw down their spears & fled naked away.
We fell. I siez’d thee, dark Urthona. In my left hand falling
“I siez’d thee, beauteous Luvah; thou art faded like a flower
And like a lilly is thy wife Vala wither’d by winds.
When thou didst bear the golden cup at the immortal tables
“Thy pure feet step’d on the steps divine, too pure for other feet,
And thy fair locks shadow’d thine eyes from the divine effulgence,
Then thou didst keep with Strong Urthona the living gates of heaven,
But now thou art bow’d down with him, even to the gates of hell.
“Because thou gavest Urizen the wine of the Almighty
For Steeds of Light, that they might run in thy golden chariot of pride,
I gave to thee the Steeds, I pour’d the stolen wine
And drunken with the immortal draught fell from my throne sublime.
“I will arise, Explore these dens, & find that deep pulsation
That shakes my cavern with strong shudders; perhaps this is the night
Of Prophecy, & Luvah hath burst his way from Enitharmon.
When Thought is clos’d in Caves Then love shall shew its root in deepest Hell.”
[URIZEN’S BOOK OF BRASS]
And Urizen Read in his book of brass in sounding tones:
“Listen, O Daughters, to my voice. Listen to the Words of Wisdom,
So shall [you] govern over all; let Moral Duty tune your tongue,
But be your hearts harder than the nether millstone.
To bring the Shadow of Enitharmon beneath our wondrous tree,
That Los may Evaporate like smoke & be no more,
Draw down Enitharmon to the spectre of Urthona,
And let him have dominion over Los, the terrible shade.
Compell the poor to live upon a Crust of bread, by soft mild arts.