Night the First

The song of the aged mother which shook the heavens with wrath,
Hearing the march of the long-resounding, long-heroic verse
Marshalled in order for the day of Intellectual battle.
The heavens quaked, the earth was moved and shuddered and the mountains
With all their woods and streams and valleys wailed in dismal fear.

Four Mighty Ones are in every Man. A perfect Unity
Cannot exist but from the Universal brotherhood of Eden
The Universal Man, to whom be glory, evermore; Amen,
Which on the nature of the Lamb's creation the Lamb's Father only,
No Individual knoweth, nor can know in all Eternity.

Los was the fourth immortal starry one, and in the Earth
Of a bright Universe, Empery attended day and night, —
Days and nights of revolving joy, — Urthona was his name.

In Eden, in the Auricular Nerves of Human Life,
Which is the Earth of Eden, he his emanations propagated
Like sons and daughters. Daughters of Beulah, sing
His fall into Division and his resurrection into Unity.
His fall into the generation of decay and death and his
Regeneration by resurrection from the dead.
Begin with Tharmas, Parent power, darkening in the West.

Lost, lost, lost are my Emanations! Enion, O Enion,
We are become a victim to the living, — wo hide in secret.
I have hidden thee, Enion in a jealous despair, O pity me,
I will build thee a labyrinth where we may dwell for ever alone.
Why wilt thou take Jerusalem from my inmost Tiriel?
Let her lay secret in the soft recesses of darkness and silence.
It is not love I bear to Enitharmon, it is Pity;
She hath taken refuge in my bosom and I cannot cast her out.

Enion said: Thy fears have made me tremble, thy terrors have surrounded me.

All love is lost, Terror succeeds, and hatred instead of love,
And stern demands of Right and Duty, instead of Liberty.
Once thou wast to me the loveliest son of heaven, but now
Why art thou terrible? Yet I love thee in thy terror still.
I am almost extinct, and soon shall be a shadow in Albion,
Unless some way can be found that I can look upon thee and live.
Hide me in some shadowy semblance, secret, whispering in my ear
In secret of soft wings, in mazes of delusive beauty.
I have looked into the secret soul of him I love,
And in the dark recesses have found sin, and cannot return.

Trembling and pale sat Tharmas, weeping into his cloud.

Sometimes I think thou art a flower expanding,
Sometimes I think thou art a fruit, breaking from its bud
In dreadful dolour and pain; and I am like an atom, —
A nothing, left in darkness; yet I am an identity.
I wish, and feel, and weep, and moan! Ah, terrible! terrible!
Why wilt thou examine every little fibre of my soul,
Spreading them out before the sun like stalks of flax to dry?

The Infant Joy is beautiful, but his anatomy
Horrible, ghast, and deadly. Nought shalt thou find in it
But dark despair and ever-brooding melancholy.
Thou wilt go mad with horror if thou examine thus
Every moment of my secret hours. Yea, I know
That I have sinned, and that my emanations are become harlots.
I am already distracted at their deeds, and if I look
Upon them more, Despair will try self-murder on my soul.
O Enion, thou art thyself a lost power in hell,
Though Heavenly beautiful to draw me to destruction.

She drew the Spectre forth from Tharmas in her shining loom
Of Vegetation, weeping in wayward infancy and sullen youth,
Listening to her soft lamentations. Soon his tongue began
To lisp out words, and soon in masculine strength augmenting he
Reared up a form of gold and stood upon the glittering rock
A shadowy human form winged, and in his depths
The dazzling gems shone clear. Rapturous in fury,
Glorying in his own eyes, exalted in terrific pride,
Searching for glory, wishing that the heavens had eyes to see,
And wishing that the earth could ope her eyelids and behold
Such wondrous beauty opening in the midst of all his glory,
That might but Enion could be found to praise, admire, and love.

Three days in self-admiring raptures on the rock he flamed,
And three dark nights repined the solitude, but the third morn
Astonished he found Enion hidden in the darksome cave.

She spoke: What am I? Wherefore was I put forth on these rocks,
Among the clouds, to tremble in the wind, in solitude?
Where is the voice that lately woke the desert? Where the face
That wept among the clouds, and where the voice that shall reply?
No other living thing is here, the sea, the earth, the heaven,
And Enion, desolate? Where art thou, Tharmas? O return.

Three days she wailed, and three dark nights sitting among the rocks,
While the bright spectre hid himself among the darkening clouds.
Then sleep fell on her eyelids in a chasm of the valley.
The seventh morn the spectre stood before her manifest.

The spectre thus spoke: Who art thou, diminutive husk and shell
Broke from my bonds? I scorn thy prison, I scorn, yet I love.

Art thou my slave? and shalt thou dare
To smite me with my tongue? Beware lest I sting also thee.

If thou hast sinned and art polluted, know that I am pure
And unpolluted, and will bring to rigid strict account
All thy past deeds. Hear what I tell thee, mark it well, remember.

This world is thine in which thou dwellest. That within thy soul,
That dark and dismal infinite where thought rolls up and down,
Is mine, and there thou goest when with one sting of my tongue
Envenomed thou rollest inward to the place whence I emerged.

She, trembling, answered: Wherefore was I born, and what am I?
A sorrow, a fear, a living torment, and a naked victim.

I thought to weave a covering for my sins from wrath of Tharmas:
Examining the sins of Tharmas, I soon found my own.
O slay me not! Thou art his wrath embodied with deceit.

In Eden, females sleep the winter in soft silken veils
Woven by their own hands to hide them in the darksome grave.
But Males immortal live renewed by Female deaths. In soft
Delight they die, and they revive in spring with music and songs.
Enion said: Farewell, I die, I hide from thy searching eyes.

So saying, from her bosom weaving soft in sinewy threads
A tabernacle of delight she sat among the Rocks
Singing her Lamentation. Tharmas groaned among his clouds,
Weeping; then, bending from his clouds he stooped his innocent head
And stretching out his holy hand on the vast deep, sublime,
Turned round the circle of Destiny with tears and bitter sighs
And said: Return, O wanderer, when the day of clouds is o'er.

So saying, he sunk down in the sea, a pale white corpse.
In torment he sunk down and flow'd among her filmy woof,
His spectre issuing from his feet in flames of fire,
In gnawing pain drawn out by her fair fingers. Every nerve
She counted, every vein and lacteal, threading them among
Her woof of terror, terrified, and drinking tears of woe:

Shuddering she wove nine days and nights, sleepless; her food was tears.

But the tenth trembling morn, the circle of Destiny complete
Rolled round the sea, englobing, in a mighty globe self-balanced.
A frowning continent appeared, where Enion in the desert
Terrified in her own creation, viewing her woven shadow,
Sat in a dread intoxication of Repentance and contrition.

What have I done, said Enion, accursed wretch — what deed?
Is this a deed of love? I know what I have done, I know
Too late now to repent. Love is changed to deadly hate,
And life is blotted out, and I remain possessed with tears.
I see the shadow of the deed within my soul wandering,
In darkness and solitude, forming seas of doubt and rocks of repentance.
Already are my eyes reverted. All that I behold
Within my soul has lost its splendour, and a brooding fear
Shadows me o'er and drives me outward to a world of woe.
I thought Tharmas a sinner, I withstood his emanation,
His secret loves and graces. Wretched me! what have I done?
For now I find those emanations were my children's souls,
And I have murdered them with cruelty above atonement.
Those that remain have fled from my cruelty into the desert,
And thou the delusive tempter to these deeds sitt'st before me.
And art thou Tharmas? All thy soft delusive beauty cannot
Tempt me to murder my own soul. I wipe my tears and smile
In this thy world, not mine: though dark I feel thy world within.

The Spectre said: Thou sinful woman, was it thy desire
That I should hide thee with my power and delight with beauty?
And now thou darkenest in my presence. Never from my sight
Shalt thou depart to weep in secret. In my jealous wings i evermore hold thee when thou goest out or comest in,
Tis thou hast darkened all my world, oh woman, lovely bane.

Thus they contended all the day among the caves of Tharmas,
Twisting in fearful forms and howling, — howling harsh, and shrieking,
Howling harsh, shrieking — mingling their bodies join in burning anguish.

Mingling his brightness with her tender limbs, then high she soared,
Half woman and half spectre. All his lovely changing colours mix
With her fair crystal clearness. In her lips and cheeks his poisons rose
In blushes like the morning, and his scaly armour softening,
A monster lovely in the heavens or wandering in the earth,
With spectre voice incessant wailing in incessant thirst,
Beauty all blushing with desire, mocking her fell despair,
Wandering desolate, a wonder abhorr'd by gods and men,
Till, with fierce pain, she brought forth on the rocks her sorrow and woe; —
Behold two little infants wept upon the desolate wind.

The first state weeping they began, and helpless as a wave
Beaten along its sightless way, growing in its motion
To its utmost goal, till strength from Enion like rich summer shining
Raised the bright, fierce boy and girl with glories from their heads out-beaming,
Drawing forth drooping mother's pity, drooping mother's sorrow.

But those in great Eternity met in the council of God
As one Man, hovering over Gilead and Hermon.
He is the good Shepherd, He is the Lord and Master
To create man morning by morning, — to give gifts at noonday.

Enion brooded over the rocks. The rough rocks groaning vegetate.

Such sorrow was given to the solitary wanderer.

The barked oak, the long-limned beech, the chestnut-tree, the pine,
The pear-tree mild, the frowning walnut, the sharp crab, apple sweet,
The rough bark opens, twittering peep forth little beaks and wings,
The nightingale, the goldfinch, robin, lark, linnet and thrush.

The goat leaped from the craggy cliff, the sheep awoke from the mould,
Upon its green stalk rose the corn, waving innumerable,
Infolding the bright infants from the desolating winds —

They sulk upon her breast, her hair became like snow on mountains,
Weaker and weaker, weeping, woeful, wearier and wearier,
Faded, and her bright eyes decayed with pity and love.

And then they wandered far away, she sought for them in vain.
In weeping blindness, stumbling, she followed them o'er rocks and mountains.

Ingrate they wandered, scorning, drawing in her spectrous life,
Repelling her away, away, by a dread repulsive power
Into Non-Entity, revolving round in dark despair
And drawing in her spectrous life in pride and haughty joy.

Till Eno, a daughter of Beulah, took a moment of time
And drew it out to seven thousand years with much care and affliction,
And many tears, and in evening years made windows into Eden.

She also took an atom of space, and opened its center out
Into infinitude, and ornamented it with wondrous care.
Astonished sat her sisters of Beulah to see her soft affection
To Enion and her children, and they pondered these things wondering,
And they alternate kept their watch over the youthful terrors.

They saw not yet the Hand Divine, for it was not revealed,
But they went on in silent hope and feminine repose.

There is from Great Eternity a mild and pleasant rest
Named Beulah, a soft moony universe, feminine, lovely,
Pure, mild and gentle, given in Mercy to all those who sleep,
Eternally created by the Lamb of God around
On all sides, within and without the Universal Man.
The Daughters of Beulah follow after sleepers in their dreams,
Creating spaces, lest they fall into Eternal Death.
The circle of Destiny complete, they gave to it a space,
Named the space Ulro, brooded over it in care and love.
They said: The Spectre is in every man insane, and most
Deformed. Through the three Heavens descending in fury and fire
We meet it with our songs and loving blandishments, and give
To it a form of Vegetation. But this Spectre of Tharmas
Is Eternal Death. What shall we do? O God, pity and help!

So spoke they, and closed the gate of the tongue in trembling fear.

Los and Enitharmon delighted in the moony spaces of Eno,
Nine times they lived among the forests, feeding on sweet fruits,
And nine bright spaces wandered, weaving mazes of delight,
Snaring the wild goats for their milk. We eat the flesh of Lambs,
A male and female, naked and ruddy as the pride of summer.

Alternate love and hate his breast, hers scorn and jealousy,
In embryon passions fill, they kissed not nor embraced for shame.
He could control the times and seasons and the days and years.
She could control the spaces, regions, desert, flood and forest,
But had no power to weave the veil of covering for her sins.
Females she drove away from Los, Los drove the males away.
They wandered long, till they sat down upon the margined sea
Conversing in the visions of Beulah in dark slumbrous bliss.
But the two youthful wonders wandered in the world of Tharmas;

Thy name is Enitharmon, said the fierce prophetic boy.

While thy mild voice fills all these caverns with sweet harmony,
O how our parents sit and mourn in their silent secret bowers!

But Enitharmon answered with a dropping tear and frowning
Dark as a dewy morning when the crimson light appears, —

We hear the warlike clarions, we view the burning spears,
Yet thou in indolence reposest, holding me in bonds.

To make us happy let them weary their immortal powers,
While we draw in their sweet delights, while we return them scorn
On scorn to feed our discontent, for if we grateful prove
They will withhold sweet love whose food is scorn and bitter roots.

Hear, I will sing a song of death: it is a song of Vala: —

The Fallen Man takes his repose, Urizen slept in the porch,
Luvah and Vala wake and fly up from the Human Heart
Into the Brain. From thence upon the pillow Vala slumbered,
And Luvah seized the Horses of Light and rose into the Chariot of Day
Sweet laughter seized me in my sleep, silent and close I laughed, —

For in the visions of Vala I walked with the Mighty Fallen One —
I heard his voice among the branches and among sweet flowers,
Why is the light of Enitharmon darkened in the dewy morn?

Why is the silence of Enitharmon a cloud and her smile a whirlwind?
Uttering this darkness in my halls in the pillars of my Holy Ones,
Why dost thou weep as Vala and wet thy veil with dewy tears
In slumbers of my night repose infusing a false morning?
Dividing the female-emanations all away from Los,
And wilt thou slay with death him who devotes himself to thee,
For the sport and amusement of Man now born to drink up all his powers?

I heard the sounding sea, I heard the voice weaker and weaker,
The voice came and went like a dream: I awoke in my sweet bliss.

Then Los smote her upon the earth; 'twas long ere she revived.
He answered, darkening now with indignation hid in smiles: —

I die not, Enitharmon, though thou singest thy song of Death,
Nor shalt thou me torment, for I behold the Fallen Man
Seeking to comfort Vala: she will not be comforted.

She rises from his throne and seeks the shadows of her garden
Weeping for Luvah, lost in bloody beams of your false morning.
Sickening lies the Fallen Man, his head sick, his heart faint,
Refusing to behold the Divine Image which all behold
And live thereby, he is sunk down into a deadly sleep.

But we, immortal in our own strength, survive by stern debate
Till we have drawn the Lamb of God into a mortal form.
And that he must be born is certain, for One must be All,
And comprehend within himself all things, both small and great.
We therefore for whose sake all things aspire to be and live
Will so receive the Divine Image that among the Reprobate
He may be devoted to destruction from his mother's womb.
Mighty achievement of your power! Beware the punishment.
I see the invisible knife descend into the gardens of Vala
Luvah walking upon the winds! I see the invisible knife.

I see the showers of blood, I see the swords and spears of futurity.

Though in the Brain of Man we live and in his circling Nerves
Though this bright world of all our joy is in the Human Brain
Where Urizen and all his hosts hang their immortal lamps,
Thou never shalt leave this cold expanse where watery Tharmas mourns.

So spoke Los. Scorn and indignation rose upon Enitharmon.

Then Enitharmon reddening fierce stretched her immortal hands: —
Descend, O Urizen, descend with horse and chariot, —
Threaten me not, O Visionary, these the punishment, —
The Human Nature shall no more remain nor Human acts
Form the rebellious spirits of Heaven, but war and princedom, victory and blood.

Night darkened as she spoke, a shuddering ran from East to West.
A groan was heard on high. The warlike clarion ceased, the spirits
Of Luvah and Vala shuddered in their orb, an orb of blood.
Eternity groaned and was troubled at the Image of Eternal Death.

The Wandering Man bow'd his faint head and Urizen descended
And the one must have murdered the Man if he had not descended.
Indignant, muttering low thunders Urizen descended,
Gloomy, sounding: — Now I am God from Eternity to Eternity.

Sullen sat Los plotting revenge. Silent he eyed the Prince
Of Light. Silent the Prince of Light viewed Los. At length a smile
Broke from Urizen, for Enitharmon brightened more.
Sullen he lowered on Enitharmon, but he smiled on Los,
Saying: — Thou art the Lord of Luvah. Into thy hands I give
The Prince of Love, the murderer; his soul is in these hands.
Pity not Vala, for she pitied not the Eternal Man,
Nor pity thou the cries of Luvah. Lo, these starry hosts,
They are thy servants if thou wilt obey my awful law.

So spoke the Prince of Light and sat beside the seat of Los.
Upon the sandy shore rested his chariot of fire.

Los answered: — Art thou one of those who when complaisant most
Mean mischief most? If you are such, lo! I am also such.
One must be Master. Try thy arts. I also will try mine,
For I perceive thou hast abundance which I claim as mine.
Urizen startled stood, but not long. Soon he cried: —

Obey my voice, young Demon; I am God from Eternity to Eternity, —
Thus Urizen spoke collected in himself in awful pride, —
Lo I am God, the terrible Destroyer, and not the Saviour.
Why should the Divine Vision control the sons of men
To forbid each his free delight, to war against his spectre?

The Spectre is the Man. The rest is only delusion and fancy.

Ten thousand thousand were his hosts of spirits on the wind,
Ten thousand thousand glittering chariots shining in the sky.
They pour upon the golden shore beside the silent ocean,
Till Earth spread forth her table wide. The Night, a silver cup
Filled with the wine of anguish, — waited at the golden feast.
But the bright sun was not as yet. He, filling all the expanse,
Slept as a bird in the blue shell that soon shall burst away.

Los saw the wound of his blow: he saw, he pitied, he wept.
Los now repented that he had smitten Enitharmon. He felt love
Arise in all his veins. He threw his arms around her loins
To heal the wound of his smiting.

They eat the fleshly bread, they drank the nervous wine;

They listened to the elemental harps and sphery song:
They viewed the dancing hours quick sporting through the sky,
With winged radiance scattering joy through the ever-changing light.
But Luvah and Vala standing in the bloody sky
On high remained alone, forsaken in fierce jealousy —
They stood above the heavens, forsaken, desolate, suspended in blood.
Descend they could not, nor from one another avert their eyes.
Eternity appeared above them as One Man infolded
In Luvah's robes of blood, and having all his afflictions,
As the sun shines down on the misty earth: such was the Vision.

But purple night, and crimson morning, and golden day descending
Through the clear changing atmosphere displayed green fields among
The varying clouds like paradises stretched in the expanse,
With towns and villages and temples, tents, sheepfolds and pastures,
Where dwell the children of the elemental worlds in harmony.

Not long in harmony they dwell. Their life is drawn away
And wintry woes succeed, — successive driven into the Void
Where Enion craves, — successive driven into the golden feast.

And Los and Enitharmon sat in discontent and scorn.
The Nuptial song arose from all the thousand thousand spirits
Over the joyful earth and sea and ascended into the heaven,
For elemental gods their thunderous organs blew creating
Delicious viands. Demons of waves their watery echoes woke.
Bright souls of vegetative life budding and blossoming
Stretch their immortal hands to smite the gold and silver strings,
With doubling voices, and loud horns, wound round and round, resounding.
Cavernous dwellers filled the enormous revelry, responsing,
And spirits of flaming fire on high governed the mighty song.

And this is the song sung at the feast of Los and Enitharmon.
The Mountain called out to the Mountain, Awake, oh Brother Mountain.
Let us refuse the Plough and Spade, the heavy Roller and
Spiked Harrow. Burn these cornfields all, throw all these fences down.

Fattened on blood and drunk with wine of life is better far
Than all these labours of harvest and vintage. See the river
Red with the blood of Men swells lustful round my rocky knees,
My clouds are not the clouds of verdant fields and groves of fruit,
But Clouds of Human Souls: my nostrils drink the Lives of Men.

The Villages lament, they faint, outstretched upon the plain.

Wailing runs round the Valleys from the Mill and from the Barn.
But most the polished Palaces, dark, silent, bow with dread,
Hiding their books and pictures underneath the dens of Earth.
The Cities send to one another saying:— My sons are mad
With wine of cruelty. Let us plat a scourge, on sister city.

Children are nourished for the slaughter. Once the child was fed
With milk, but wherefore now are children fed with wine and blood?

Enion, blind and age-bent, wept upon the desolate wind.
Why does the Raven cry aloud and no eye pities her?

Why fall the Sparrow and the Robin in the foodless winter?
Faint, shivering, they sit on leafless bush or frozen stone
Wearied with seeking food across the snowy waste, the little
Heart cold, the little tongue consumed that once in thoughtless joy
Gave songs of gratitude to waving cornfields round their nest.

Why howl the lion and the wolf? Why do they roam abroad?
Deluded by the summer's heat they sport in enormous love,
And cast their young out to the hungry winds and desert sands.
Why is the sheep given to the knife? The lamb plays in the sun.
He starts: he hears the foot of Man! He says: Take thou my wool
But spare my life: but he knows not that winter cometh fast.
The spider sits in his laboured net, eager, watching for the fly.
Presently comes a famished bird and takes away the spider.
His web is left all desolate that his little anxious heart
So careful wove and spread it out with sighs and weariness.

This was the lamentation of Enion round the golden tent.

Eternity groaned and was troubled at the image of Eternal Death,
Without the body of Man, exuded from his sickening limbs.

Now Man was come to the Palm Tree, and to the Oak of Weeping
Which stand upon the edge of Beulah, and there he sank down
From the supporting arms of the Eternal Saviour who disposed
The pale limbs of his Eternal Individuality
Upon the Rock of Ages, watching over him with love and care.

Jerusalem, his Emanation is become a ruin,
Her little ones are slain upon the top of every street,
And she herself led captive and scattered into the indefinite.
Gird on thy sword, O thou most mighty in glory and majesty.
Destroy these oppressors of Jerusalem and those that ruin Shiloh.

So spoke the Messengers of Beulah. Silently removing
The Family Divine drew up the universal tent
Above Mount Gilead and closed the messengers in clouds around
Till the time of the End. Then they elected Seven, called the Seven
Eyes of God, and the Seven Lamps of the Almighty.

The seven are one within the other. The seventh is named Jesus,
The Lamb of God blessed for ever. He followed the Man
Who wandered in Mount Ephraim seeking a Sepulchre,
His inward eyes closing from the Divine Vision, and all
His children wandering from his bosom outside fleeing away.
The Daughters of Beulah beheld the Emanation; they pitied, they wept.

They wept before the inner gates of Enitharmon's bosom,
And of her finewrought brain, and of her bowels within her loins.
These gates within, glorious, bright, open into Beulah
From Enitharmon's inward parts. But the bright female terror
Refused to open the bright gates. She closed and barred them fast
Lest Los should enter into Beulah through her beautiful gates.

The Emanation stood before the gates of Enitharmon,
Weeping. The Daughters of Beulah silent in the Porches
Spread her a couch unknown to Enitharmon. Here reposed
Jerusalem in slumbers soft, lull'd into silent rest.

Terrific raged the Eternal wheels of Intellect, and raged
The Living Creatures in the wheels, in the Wars of Eternal life.
But perverse rolled the wheels of Urizen and Luvah, back revolved
Downwards and outwards, consuming in the Wars of Eternal Death.

Then those in Great Eternity met in the councils of God
As One Man, for, contracting their exalted senses
They behold Multitude, or expanding they behold as one,
As One Man all the Universal Family, and that One Man
They call Jesus the Christ, and they in him, and he in them,
Live in perfect harmony, in Eden, the land of life,
Consulting as one Man above Mount Gilead sublime.

For messengers from Beulah came in tears and darkening clouds
Saying Shiloh is in ruins, our brother Albion is sick. He,
He whom thou lovest is sick. He wanders from his house of Eternity.
The Daughters of Beulah, terrified, have closed the gate of the tongue.
Luvah and Urizen contend in war around the holy tent.

So spoke the Ambassadors from Beulah with solemn mourning sound;
They were introduced to the Divine Presence and they kneeled down
In Beth Peor thus recounting the wars of Eternal Death: —

The Eternal Man wept in the holy tent. Our Brother in Eternity,
Even Albion whom thou lovest, wept in pain. His family
Slept round on hills and valleys in the region of his love.

But Urizen awoke, and Luvah awoke, and they conferred, thus.

Thou Luvah, said the Prince of Light, behold our sons and daughters
Repose on beds. Let them sleep on, do thou alone depart
Into thy wished kingdom, where in Majesty and Power
We may create a throne. Deep in the North I place my lot,
Thou in the South. Listen attentive. In silence of this night
I will infold the universal tent in clouds opaque, while thou
Seizest the chariots of the morning. Go; outfleeting ride
Afar into the Zenith high, bending thy furious course
Southward, with half the tents of men inclosed in clouds
Of Tharmas and Urthona. I in porches of the brain
Will lay my sceptre on Jerusalem, the Emanation,
On all her sons, and on thy sons, O Luvah, and on mine
Till dawn was wont to wake them, then my trumpet sounding loud,
Ravished away in night. My strong command shall be obeyed,
For I have placed my sentinels in stations. Each tenth man
Is bought and sold, and in dim night my word shall be their law.

Luvah replied: Dictate thou to thy equals, am not I
The Prince of all the hosts of men, nor equal know in Heaven?

If I arise into the Zenith, leaving thee to watch
The Emanation and her sons, the Satan and the Anak
Sihon and Og, wilt thou not, rebel to my laws, remain
In darkness, building thy strong throne, and in my ancient night
Daring my power wilt arm my sons against me in the deep,
My deep, my night, which thou assuming hast assumed my crown.
I will remain as well as thou, and here with hands of blood
Smite this dark sleeper in his tent, then try my strength with thee.

While thus he spoke his fury reddened o'er the holy tent.
Urizen cast deep darkness round him, silent, brooding death,
Eternal death to Luvah. Raging, Luvah poured
The lances of Urizen from chariots round the holy tent.
Discord began and yells and cries shook the wide firmament.

Beside his Anvil stood Urthona dark, a mass of iron
Glow'd furious on the anvil prepared for spades and coulters.

His sons fled from his side to join the conflict. Pale he heard
The Eternal voice. He stood. The sweat chilled on his mighty limbs.

He dropped his hammer. Dividing from his aching bosom fled
A portion of his life. Shrieking upon the wind she fled,
And Tharmas took her in, pitying. Then Enion in jealous fear
Murdered her, and hid her in her bosom, embalming her, for fear
She should arise again to life. Embalmed in Enion's bosom
Enitharmon remains. Such thing was never known before
In Eden, that one died a death never to be revived.

Urthona stood in terror, but not long. His spectre fled
To Enion, and his body fell. Tharmas beheld him fall
Endlong, a raging serpent, rolling round the holy tent.
The sons of War astonished at the glittering monster drove
Him far into the world of Tharmas, into a caverned rock.

But Urizen with darkness overspreading all the armies
Sent round his heralds secretly commanding to depart
Into the North. Sudden with thunder's sound his multitudes
Retreat from the fierce fight, all sons of Urizen at once
Mustering together in thick clouds, leaving the rage of Luvah
To pour its fury on himself, and on the Eternal Man.

Sudden, down fell they all together into an unknown space,
Deep, horrible, without end, from Beulah separate, far beneath.
The Man's exteriors are become indefinite, opened to pain,
In a fierce hungry void, and none can visit his regions.