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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=38418" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Book the First</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Daughters of Beulah! Muses who inspire the Poet’s Song,<br>Record the journey of immortal Milton thro’ you Realms<br>Of terror & mild moony luster, in soft sexual delusions<br>Of varied beauty, to delight the wanderer and repose<br>His burning thirst & descending down the Nerves of my right arm<br>From out the Portals of my Brain, where by your ministry<br>The Eternal Great Humanity Divine planted his Paradise,<br>And in it caus’d the Spectres of the Dead to take sweet forms<br>In likeness of himself. Tell also of the False Tongue! vegetated<br>Beneath your land of shadows, of its sacrifices and<br>Its offerings, even till Jesus, the image of the Invisible God,<br>Became its prey – a curse, an offering and an atonement<br>For Death Eternal in the heavens of Albion, & before the Gates<br>Of Jerusalem his Emanation, in the heavens beneath Beulah.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Say first! what mov’d Milton, who walk’d about in Eternity<br>One hundred years, pond’ring the intricate mazes of Providence,<br>Unhappy tho’ in heav’n – he obey’d, he murmur’d not, he was silent<br>Viewing his Sixfold Emanation scatter’d thro’ the deep<br>In torment – To go into the deep, her to redeem & himself perish?<br>What cause at length mov’d Milton to this unexampled deed?<br>A Bard’s prophetic Song! for sitting at eternal tables,<br>Terrific among the Sons of Albion in chorus solemn & loud,<br>A Bard broke forth! all sat attentive to the awful man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Milton rose up form the heavens of Albion ardorous.<br>The whole Assembly wept prophetic, seeing in Milton’s face<br>And in his lineaments divine the shades of Death & Ulro.<br>He took off the robe of the promise, & ungirded himself from the oath of God.<br>And Milton said: ‘I go to Eternal Death! The Nations still<br>Follow after the detestable Gods of Priam, in pomp<br>Of warlike selfhood, contradicting and blaspheming.<br>When will the Resurrection come to deliver the sleeping body<br>From corruptibility? O when, Lord Jesus, wilt thou come?<br>Tarry no longer, for my soul lies at the gates of death.<br>I will arise and look forth for the morning of the grave;<br>I will go down to the sepulcher to see if morning breaks;<br>I will go down to self annihilation and eternal death,<br>Lest the Last Judgment come & find me unannihilate,<br>And I be seiz’d & giv’n into the hands of my own Selfhood.<br>The Lamb of God is seen thro’ mists & shadows, hov’ring<br>Over the sepulchers in clouds of Jehovah & winds of Elohim,<br>A disk of blood, distant; & heav’ns & earths roll dark between.<br>What do I here before the Judgment? without my Emanation?<br>With the daughters of memory & not with the daughters of inspiration?<br>I in my Selfhood am that Satan; I am that Evil One!<br>He is my Spectre! In my obedience to loose him from my Hells,<br>To claim the Hells, my Furnaces, I go to Eternal Death.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But Milton entering my Foot, I saw in the nether<br>Regions of the Imagination – also all men on Earth<br>And all in Heaven saw in the nether region of the Imagination<br>In Ulro beneath Beulah – the vast breach of Milton’s descent.<br>But I knew not that it was Milton, for man cannot know<br>What passes in his members till periods of Space & Time<br>Reveal the secrets of Eternity; for more extensive<br>Than any other earthly things are Man’s earthly lineaments.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all this Vegetable World appear’d on my left Foot,<br>As a bright sandal from’d immortal of precious stones & gold:<br>I stooped down & bound it on to walk forward thro’ Eternity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">…what time I bound my sandals<br>On to walk forward thro’ Eternity, Los descended to me;<br>And Los behind me stood, a terrible flaming Sun, just close<br>Behind my back. I turned round in terror, and behold!<br>Los stood in that fierce glowing fire, & he also stoop’d down<br>And bound my sandals on in Udan-Adan. Trembling I stood<br>Exceedingly with fear & terror, standing in the Vale<br>Of Lambeth; but he kissed me, and wish’d me health,<br>And I became One Man with him arising in my strength.<br>‘Twas too late now to recede. Los had enter’d into my soul;<br>his terrors now posses’d me whole! I arose in fury & strength.<br>‘I am that Shadowy Prophet who Six Thousand Years ago<br>Fell from my station in the Eternal bosom. Six Thousand Years<br>Are finish’d. I return! both Time & Space obey my will.<br>I in Six Thousand Years walk up and down; for not one Moment<br>Of Time is lost, nor one Event of Space unpermanent,<br>But all remain; every fabric of Six Thousand Years<br>Remains permanent. Tho’ on the Earth where Satan<br>Fell and was cut off all things vanish & are seen no more,<br>They vanish not from me & mine; we guard them first & last.<br>The generations of men run on in the tide of Time,<br>But leave their destin’d lineaments permanent for ever & ever.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Los is by mortals nam’d Time; Enitharmon is nam’d Space.<br>But they depict him bald & aged who is in eternal youth,<br>All powerful, and his locks flourish like the brows of morning.<br>He is the Spirit of Prophecy, the ever apparent Elias.<br>Time is the mercy of Eternity; without Time’s swiftness,<br>Which is the swiftest of all things, all were eternal torment.<br>All the Gods of the Kingdoms of Earth labour in Los’s Halls:<br>Every one is a fallen Son of the Spirit of Prophecy;<br>He is the Fourth Zoa, that stood around the Throne Divine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou seest the Constellations in the deep & wondrous Night;<br>They rise in order and countinue their immortal courses<br>Upon the mountains & in vales, with harp & heavenly song,<br>With flute & clarion, with cups & measures fill’d with foaming wine.<br>Glitt’ring the streams reflect the Vision of beatitude,<br>And the calm Ocean joys beneath & smooths his awful waves.<br>These are the Sons of Los, & these the Labourers of the Vintage.<br>Thou seest the gorgeous clothed Flies that dance & sport in summer<br>Upon the sunny brooks & meadows; every one the dance<br>Knows in its intricate mazes of delight artful to weave,<br>Each one to sound his instruments of music in the dace,<br>To touch each other & recede, to cross & change & return.<br>These are the Children of Los. Thou seest the Trees on mountains;<br>The wind blows heavy, loud they thunder thro’ the darksome sky,<br>Uttering prophecies & speaking instructive words to the sons<br>Of men. These are the Sons of Los, these the Visions of Eternity;<br>But we see only as it were the hem of their garments<br>When with our vegetable eyes we view these wondrous Visions.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">…<br>And every Generated Body in its inward form<br>Is a garden of delight & a building of magnificence,<br>Built by the Sons of Los in Bowlahoola & Allamanda;<br>And the herbs & flowers & furniture & beds &chambers<br>Continually woven in the Looms of Enitharmon’s Daughters,<br>In bright Cathedron’s golden Dome with care & love & tears.<br>For the various Classes of Men are all mark’d out determinate<br>In Bowlahoola, & as the Spectures choose their affinities<br>So they are born on Earth, & every Class is determinate;<br>But not by Natural, but by Spiritual power alone, because<br>The Natural power continually seeks & tends to Destruction,<br>Ending in Death, which would of itself be Eternal Death.<br>And all are Class’d by Spiritual & not by Natural power,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And every Neutral Effect has a Spiritual Cause, and Not<br>A Natural; for a natural Cause only seems: it is a Delusion<br>Of Ulro, & a ratio of the perishing Vegetable Memory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But others of the Sons of Los build Moments & Minutes & Hours<br>And Days & Months & Years & Ages & Periods, wondrous buildings;<br>And every Moment has a Couch of gold for soft repose,<br>(A Moment equals a pulsation of the artery),<br>And between every two Moments stands a Daughter of Beulah<br>To feed the Sleepers on their Couches with maternal care.<br>And Every Minute has an azure Tent with silken Veils;<br>And Every Hour has a bright golden Gate carved with skill;<br>And every Day & Night has Walls of brass & Gates of adamant,<br>Shining like precious stones & ornamented with appropriate signs;<br>And every Month a silver paved Terrace builded high;<br>And every Year invulnerable Barriers wit high Towers;<br>And every Age is Moated deep with Bridges of silver & gold;<br>And every Seven Ages is Incircled with a Flaming Fire.<br>Now Seven Ages is amounting to Two Hundred Years:<br>Each has its Guard, each Moment, Minute, Hour, Day, Month & Year.<br>All are the work of Fairy hands of the Four Elements.<br>The Guard are Angels of Providence on duty evermore.<br>Every Time less than a pulsation of the artery<br>Is equal in its period & value to Six Thousand Years;<br>For in this Period the Poet’s work is Done, and all the Great<br>Events of Time start forth & are conciev’d in such a Period,<br>Within a Moment, a Pulsation of the Artery.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Sky is an immortal Tent built by the Sons of Los;<br>And every Space that a Man views around his dwelling-place,<br>Standing on his own roof or in his garden on a mount<br>Of twenty-five cubits in height, such space is his Universe;<br>And on its verge to Sun rises & sets, the Clouds bow<br>To meet the flat Earth & the Sea I such an order’d Space.<br>The Starry heavens reach no further, but here bend and set<br>On all sides, & the two Poles turn on their valves of gold;<br>And if he move his dwelling-place, his heavens also move<br>Where’er he goes, & all his neighbourhood bewail his loss.<br>Such are the Spaces called Earth, &such its dimension.<br>As to that false appearance which appears to the reasoner,<br>As of a Globe rolling thro’ Voidness, it is a delusion of Ulro.<br>The Microscope knows not of this, nor the Telescope; they alter<br>The ration of the Spectator’s Organs, but leave Objects untouch’d.<br>For every Space larger than a red globule of Man’s blood<br>Is visionary, and is created by the Hammer of Los;<br>And every Space smaller than a Globule of Man’s blood opens<br>Into Eternity, of which this vegetable Earth is but a shadow.<br>The red Globule is the unwearied Sun by Los created<br>To measure Time and Space to mortal Men every morning.<br>Bowlahoola & Allamanda are placed on each side<br>Of that Pulsation & that Globule, terrible their power.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Blake">William Blake</a> from <i>Milton</i><div class=q>
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