Night the Fifth

Infected, mad, he danced on his mountains high and dark as heaven
Now fixed into one steadfast bulk his features stonify.
From his mouth curses, from his eyes issuing sparks of blighting,
Beside the anvil cold he danced with the hammer of Urthona.
Terrific, pale, Enitharmon stretched on the dreary earth,
Felt her immortal limbs freeze, stiffening, pale, inflexible.
His feet shrunk withering, from the deeps shrinking and withering,
And Enitharmon shrunk up, all their fibres withering
As plants withered by winter, leaves, stems, and roots decaying
Melt into thin air, while the seed, driven by the furious wind,
Rests on the distant mountain tops, so Los and Enitharmon
Shrunk into fixed space stood trembling on a rocky cliff,
Yet beauty, majesty, and bulk remained, but unexpansive.
As far as highest Zenith from the lowest Nadir they shrunk,
Los from the furnaces a space immense, and left the cold
Prince of Light bound in chains of intellect among the furnaces.
But all the furnaces were out and the bellows had ceased to blow.
He stood trembling and Enitharmon clung around his knees,
Their senses unexpansive in one steadfast bulk remained.

The night blew cold, and Enitharmon shrieked on the dismal wind.
Her pale hands cling around her husband, and over her weak head
Shadows of Eternal Death sit in the leaden air.

But the soft pipe, the flute and viol, organ, harp and cymbal,
And the sweet sound of silver voices calm the weary couch
Of Enitharmon, but her groans drown the immortal harps.
Loud and more loud the living music floats upon the air,
Faint and more faint the daylight waxes; wheels of turning darkness
Began in solemn revolutions. Earth convulsed with pangs
Rocked to and fro and cried out sore at the groans of Enitharmon.

Still the faint harps and silver voices calm the weary couch,
But from the caves of deepest night, ascending in clouds of mist.
The winter spreads his wide black wings across from pole to pole,
Grim frost beneath, and terrible snow linked in a marriage chain
Began a dismal dance. The winds around on pointed rocks
Settled like bats innumerable, ready to fly abroad.

The groans of Enitharmon shake the skies, the labouring earth,
Till from her heart, rending his way, a terrible child sprang forth
In thunder, smoke, and sullen flames, and howlings, fury and blood.

Soon as his burning eyes were opened, looking on the abyss,
The horrible trumpets of the deep bellowed with bitter blasts,
The enormous demons woke and howled around the new-born king,
Crying Luvah, King of Love, thou art the king of rage and death.

Urizen cast deep darkness round him, raging, Luvah poured
The spears of Urizen from chariots round the eternal tent.
Discord began, and yells and cries shook the wide firmament —

Where is sweet Vala, gloomy prophet? Where the lovely form
That drew the body of Man from heaven into this dark abyss?

Soft tears and sighs, where are you? Come forth! Shout on bloody fields.
Show thy soul, Vala! show thy bow and quiver of secret fires.

Draw thy bow, Vala, from the depth of Hell, thy black bow draw,
And twang the bowstring to our Hautbois; let thine arrows black
Sing in the sky as once they sang upon the hills of light
When dark Urthona wept in torment of the secret pain,
He wept and he divided and he laid his gloomy head
Down on the rock of Eternity in darkness of the deep,
Torn by black storms and ceaseless torrents of consuming fire.
Within his breast his fiery sons chained down and filled with cursing,
And breathing terrible blood and vengeance, gnashing his teeth with pain,
Let loose the Enormous Spirit on the darkness of the deep,
And his dark wife, that once fair crystal form divinely clear,
Within his ribs producing serpents whose souls are flames of fire.
But now the times return upon thee. Enitharmon's womb
Now holds thee, soon to issue forth. Sound, clarion of war,
Call Vala from her close recess in all her dark deceit,
Then rage on rage shall fierce redound out of her crystal quiver.

So sang the demons round red Orc, and round faint Enitharmon.
Sweat and blood stood on the limbs of Los. In globes his fiery eyelids
Faded. He roused, he seized the wonder in his hand, and went
Shuddering and weeping through the gloom and down into the deeps.

And Enitharmon nursed his fiery child in the dark deeps
Sitting in darkness: over her Los mourned in anguish fierce.
Covered with gloom this fiery boy grew, feeding on the milk
Of Enitharmon. Los around her builded pillars of iron,
And brass, and silver, and gold, fourfold, in dark prophetic fear,
For now he feared Eternal Death and uttermost extinction:
He builded Golgonooza on the lake of Udan Adan.
Upon the limit of translucence then he builded Laban.
Tharmas laid the foundation stone; Los finished it in howling woe.

But when fourteen summers, and winters, had revolved over
This solemn habitation, Los beheld the ruddy boy
Embracing his bright mother, and beheld malignant fires
In his young eyes, discerning plain that Orc plotted his death.

Grief rose upon his ruddy brows. A tightening girdle grew
Around his bosom like a bloody cord. In secret sobs
He burst it, but next morn another girdle soon succeeds
Around his bosom. Every day he viewed the fiery youth,
With silent fear, and his immortal cheeks drew deadly pale.

Till many a morn and many a night passed over in dire woe.

Forming a girdle in the day, and bursting it at night —
The girdle was always formed by day: but night 'twas burst in twain,
Falling down on the rock, an iron chain link by link locked.

Enitharmon beheld the bloody chain made of the nights and days,
Depending from the bosom of Los, — and how with grinding pain
He went each morning to his labours with the spectre dark, —
Called it the chain of jealousy. Now Los began to speak
His woes aloud to Enitharmon; since he could not hide
His uncouth plague he seized the boy in his immortal hands,
While Enitharmon followed him, weeping in dismal woe,
Up to the iron mountain top, and there the jealous chain
Fell from his bosom on the mountain, and the spectre dark
Held the fierce boy. Los nailed him down, binding over his limbs
The accursed chain. O how bright Enitharmon howled and cried
Over her son. Obdurate, Los bound down his loved joy.

The hammer of Urthona smote the rivets in terror — of brass
Tenfold. The Demon's rage flamed forth tenfold with rending fires,
Roaring, resounding, loud, loud, louder, ever louder, fired, —
The darkness, warring with waves of Tharmas, and snows of Urizen, —
Crackling the flames went up with fury from the immortal Demon.
Surrounded with flames the Demon grew, loud howling in his fires
Los folded Enitharmon in a cold white cloud, in fear
Then led her down into the deeps, and into his labyrinth,
Giving the spectre eternal charge over the howling fiend
Concentred into love of Parent, storgeous appetite, craving.

His limbs bound down mock at his chains, for over them a flame
Of circling fire unceasing plays to feed them with life, and bring
The virtues of the Eternal Worlds. Ten thousand thousand spirits
Of life lament around the Demon, going forth and returning.
At his enormous call they flee into the heavens of heavens,
And back return with wine and food, or dive into the deeps
To bring the thrilling joys of sense to quell his ceaseless rage.
His eyes, the lights of his large soul, contract, or else expand.
Contracted they behold the secrets of the infinite mountains,
The veins of gold and silver, and the hidden things of Vala,
Whatever grows from its pure bud, or wreathes a fragrant soul,
Expanded they behold the terrors of the Sun and Moon,
The elemental planets, and the orbs of eccentric fire.
His nostrils breathe a fiery flame, his locks are like the forests
Of wild beasts, there the lion glares, the tiger and wolf howl there,
And there the eagle hides her young in cliffs and precipices.

His bosom is like the starry heavens expanded. All the stars
Sing round. There waves the harvest; the vintage rejoices there.
The springs flow into rivers of delight. Spontaneous flowers
Drink, laugh and sing; the grasshopper, the emmet and the fly,
The golden moth builds there a house and spreads her silken bed.

His loins inwove with silken fires are like a furnace fierce,
As the strong bull in summer time when bees sing round the heath,
When the herds low after the shadow and after the water-spring.
The murmurous flocks cover the mountains and shine along the valley,
His knees are rocks of adamant, ruby, and emerald,
Spirits of strength in palaces rejoice in golden armour
Armed with the spear and shield they drink and rejoice over the slain,
Such is the Demon, such his terror on the nether deep.

But when returned to Grolgonooza Los and Enitharmon
Felt all the sorrow parents feel, they wept toward one another.

And Los repented that he had chained Orc upon the mountain.
And Enitharmon's tears prevailed. Parental love returned.
Though terrible his dread of that infernal chain, they rose
At midnight hasting to their much beloved care.
Nine days they travelled through the gloom of Entuthon Benython.

Los taking Enitharmon by the hand led her along
The dismal vales and up to the iron mountain tops where Orc
Howled in the furious wind. He thought to give to Enitharmon
Her son in tenfold joy, and to compensate for her tears
Even if his own death resulted, so much pity him pained.

But when they came to the dark rock and to the spectrous cave,
Lo, the young limbs had strucken root into the rock, and strong
Fibres had from the chain of jealousy inwove themselves
In a bright vegetation round the rock and round the cave,
And over the immortal limbs of the terrible fiery boy.

In vain they strove now to unchain, in vain with bitter tears
To melt the chain of jealousy. Not Enitharmon's death,
Nor the consummating of Los could ever melt the chain.
Nor could unroot the infernal fibres from their rocky bed.
Nor all Urthona's strength, nor all the power of Luvah's bulls,
Though they each morning drag the unwilling sun out of the deep,
Could uproot the infernal chain, for it had strucken root.
Into the iron rock, and grew a chain beneath the earth,
Even to the centre, wrapping round the centre and the limbs
Of Orc, with fibres become one with him, a living chain
Sustained by the Demon's life. Despair, terror, and woe and rage
Enwrap the parents in cold clouds as they bend howling o'er
The terrible boy, till fainting by his side, the parents fell.

Not long they lay, Urthona's spectre found herbs of the pit.
Rubbing their temples he revived them. All their lamentations I write not here, but all their after life was lamentation.

When satiated with grief they returned back to Golgonooza,
Enitharmon on the road of Dranthon felt the inmost gate
Of her bright heart burst open and again close with a deadly pain.
Within her heart Vala began to re-animate in bursting sobs,
And when this gate was open she beheld that dreary deep
Where bright Ahania wept. She also saw the infernal roots
Of the chain of jealousy and felt rendings of howling Orc
Bending the caverns like a mighty wind pent in the earth,
Though wide apart as furthest north is from the furthest south.

Urizen trembled where he lay to hear the howling terror.

The rocks shook, the eternal bars tugged to and fro were rifted.

Outstretched upon the stones of ice the ruins of his throne
Urizen shuddering heard, his trembling limbs shook the strong caves.

The woes of Urizen shut up in the deep dens of Urthona.

Ah! how shall Urizen the king submit to this dark mansion?

Ah! how is this? Once on the heights I stretched my throne sublime.

The mountains, once of silver, where the sons of wisdom dwelt,
And on whose tops the virgins sang, are rocks of desolation.

My fountains, once the haunt of swans, now breed the scaly tortoise,
The houses of my harpers are become a haunt of crows,
The gardens of wisdom are become a field of horrid graves,
And on the bones I drop my tears and water them in vain.

Once how I from my palace walked in gardens of delight,
The sons of wisdom stood around, the harpers came with harps,
Nine virgins clothed in light made songs to their immortal voices,
And at my banquet of new wine my head was crowned with joy.

Then in my ivory palaces I slumbered in the noon
And walked in the silent night among sweet-smelling flowers
Till on my silver bed I slept and sweet dreams hovered round,
But now my land is darkened and my wise men are departed.

My songs are turned into cries of lamentation
Heard on my mountains, and deep sighs under my palace roofs,
Because the steeds of Urizen, once swifter than the light,
Were kept back from my lord and from his chariot of mercies.

Oh, did I keep the horses of the day in silver pastures?
Oh, I refused the Lord of Day the horses of his Prince!
Oh, did I close my treasuries with roofs of solid stone
And darkened all my palace walls with envying and hate?

Oh, fool! to think that I could hide from his all-piercing eye
The gold and silver and costly stones, his holy workmanship!
Oh, fool! Could I forget the light that filled my bright spheres
Was a reflection of his face who called me from the deep.

I well remember, for I heard the mild and holy voice
Saying, Light spring up and shine, and lo, I sprang up from the deep.
He gave to me a silver sceptre, crowned with a golden crown,
And said, Go forth and guide my son who wanders on the ocean.

I went not forth, I hid myself on black clouds of my wrath,
I called the stars around my feet in the night of council dark,
The stars threw down their spears of light and fled naked away.
We fell. I seized thee, dark Urthona, in my left hand falling.

I seized thee, beauteous Luvah; thou art faded like a flower
And like a lily thy wife Vala, withered by the winds.

When thou didst bear the golden cup at the immortal tables
Thy children smote their fiery wings, crowned with the gold of heaven.

Thy pure feet stept on steps divine, too pure for other feet,
And thy fair locks shadowed thine eyes from this divine effulgence,
And thou didst keep with strong Urthona the living gates of heaven,
But now thou art bowed down with him, even to the gates of hell.

Because thou gavest Urizen the wine of the Almighty
For steeds that they might run in the golden chariot of pride
I gave to thee the steeds of light, I poured the stolen wine,
And drunken with the immortal draught fell from my throne sublime.

I will arise, explore these dens, and find that deep pulsation
That shakes my cavern with strong shudders. This may be the night
Of prophecy, and Luvah hath burst his way from Enitharmon
When thought is closed in caverns, love shows roots in deepest hell.