English poem
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 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. 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. 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. 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: