To the Christians
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AND did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?
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MY Spectre around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way;
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Daughters of Beulah! Muses who inspire the Poet's Song, Record the journey of immortal Milton thro' your realms
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TO my friend Butts I write
My first vision of light,
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1. Then the Inhabitants of those Cities:
Felt their Nerves change into Marrow
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1. Urizen explor'd his dens
Mountain, moor, & wilderness,
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Los smitten with astonishment Frightend at the hurtling bones
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1. The voice ended, they saw his pale visage
Emerge from the darkness; his hand
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1. In terrors Los shrunk from his task:
His great hammer fell from his hand:
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1. They named the child Orc, he grew
Fed with milk of Enitharmon
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1. But Los saw the Female & pitied
He embrac'd her, she wept, she refus'd
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Why should I care for the men of thames
Or the cheating waves of charter'd streams
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1. Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific!
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Of the primeval Priests assum'd power,
When Eternals spurn'd back his religion;
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1. Earth was not: nor globes of attraction
The will of the Immortal expanded
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AFRICA
I will sing you a song of Los. the Eternal Prophet:
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The nameless shadowy female rose from out the breast of Orc,
Her snaky hair brandishing in the winds of Enitharmon;
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`Now Art has lost its mental charms
France shall subdue the world in arms.'
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I heard an Angel Singing
When the day was springing:
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My spectre around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way;
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The vision of Christ that thou dost see
Is my vision’s greatest enemy.
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I asked a thief to steal me a peach: He turn'd up his eyes.
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O holy virgin! clad in purest white,
Unlock heav'n's golden gates, and issue forth;
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The sky is an immortal tent built by the Sons of Los:
And every space that a man views around his dwelling-place
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Memory, hither come,
And tune your merry notes;
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He. Where thou dwellest, in what grove,
Tell me Fair One, tell me Love;
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The shadowy Daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc,
When fourteen suns had faintly journey'd o'er his dark abode:
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O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
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To see a world in a grain of sand, And a heaven in a wild flower,
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