Plate 85

Became a Space & an Allegory around the Winding Worm They namd it Canaan & built for it a tender Moon Los smild with joy thinking on Enitharmon & he brought Reuben from his twelvefold wandrings & led him into it Planting the Seeds of the Twelve Tribes & Moses & David And gave a Time & Revolution to the Space Six Thousand Years He calld it Divine Analogy, for in Beulah the Feminine Emanations Create Space. the Masculine Create Time, & plant The Seeds of beauty in the Space: listning to their lamentation

Los walks upon his ancient Mountains in the deadly darkness Among his Furnaces directing his laborious Myriads watchful Looking to the East: & his voice is heard over the whole Earth As he watches the Furnaces by night, & directs the labourers

And thus Los replies upon his Watch: the Valleys listen silent: The Stars stand still to hear: Jerusalem & Vala cease to mourn: His voice is heard from Albion: the Alps & Appenines Listen: Hermon & Lebanon bow their crowned heads Babel & Shinar look toward the Western Gate, they sit down Silent at his voice: they view the red Globe of fire in Los's hand As he walks from Furnace to Furnace directing the Labourers And this is the Song of Los, the Song that he sings on his Watch

O lovely mild Jerusalem! O Shiloh of Mount Ephraim! I see thy Gates of precious stones: thy Walls of gold & silver Thou art the soft reflected Image of the Sleeping Man Who stretchd on Albions rocks reposes amidst his Twenty-eight Cities: where Beulah lovely terminates, in the hills & valleys of Albion Cities not yet embodied in Time and Space: plant ye The Seeds O Sisters in the bosom of Time & Spaces womb To spring up for Jerusalem: lovely Shadow of Sleeping Albion Why wilt thou rend thyself apart & build an Earthly Kingdom To reign in pride & to opress & to mix the Cup of Delusion O thou that dwellest with Babylon! Come forth O lovely-one