MILTON E-Book

William Blake

• Herausgeber: Musaicum Books
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Seitenzahl: 103

Beschreibung

In William Blake's 'MILTON,' the reader is immersed in a unique blend of poetry and prose that showcases the author's visionary imagination. The book delves into themes of spirituality, the divine, and the complexities of human nature, drawing on the literary tradition of epic poetry while incorporating elements of Blake's own mystical beliefs. The vivid imagery and symbolic language used throughout the text serve to create a mesmerizing reading experience that challenges traditional notions of literature and religion. 'MILTON' is a profound exploration of the intersection between the earthly and the divine, offering readers a glimpse into Blake's revolutionary vision of the world. William Blake, a renowned poet, artist, and visionary, was deeply influenced by his own spiritual beliefs and experiences. His work often reflects his views on religion, politics, and the nature of creativity, making him a key figure in the Romantic movement. 'MILTON' stands as a testament to Blake's innovative approach to literature and his unique ability to blend poetic and visual elements in his work. I highly recommend 'MILTON' to readers interested in exploring the intersection of poetry, spirituality, and the human experience. William Blake's visionary masterpiece offers a captivating journey into the depths of the human soul and the mysteries of the universe.

Leseprobe

William Blake

MILTON

Published by

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2017 OK Publishing

ISBN 978-80-272-3697-8

Table of Contents

Book the First

Book the Second

Book the First

Table of Contents

Plates

Book the First

Daughters of Beulah! Muses who inspire the Poet’s Song, 

Record the journey of immortal Milton thro’ your Realms 

Of terror & mild moony lustre, in soft sexual delusions 

Of varied beauty, to delight the wanderer and repose

His burning thirst & freezing hunger! Come into my hand 

By your mild power; descending down the Nerves of my right arm 

From out the Portals of my Brain, where by your ministry 

The Eternal Great Humanity Divine planted his Paradise, 

And in it caus’d the Spectres of the Dead to take sweet form 

In likeness of himself. Tell also of the False Tongue! vegetated 

Beneath your land of shadows: of its sacrifices, and

Its offerings: even till Jesus, the image of the Invisible God, 

Became its prey; a curse, an offering, and an atonement 

For Death Eternal in the heavens of Albion, & before the Gates 

Of Jerusalem his Emanation, in the heavens beneath Beulah.

Say first! what mov’d Milton, who walk’d about in Eternity 

One hundred years, pond’ring the intricate mazes of Providence, 

Unhappy tho’ in heav’n, he obey’d, he murmur’d not, he was silent.

Viewing his Sixfold Emanation scatter’d thro’ the deep 

In torment: To go into the deep her to redeem & himself perish?

That cause at length mov’d Milton to this unexampled deed, 

A Bard’s prophetic Song! for sitting at eternal tables.

Terrific among the Sons of Albion, in chorus solemn & loud 

A Bard broke forth: all sat attentive to the awful man.

Mark well my words! they are of your eternal salvation!

Three Classes are Created by the Hammer of Los, & Woven

By Enitharmons Looms when Albion was slain upon his Mountains 

And in his Tent, thro envy of Living Form, even of the Divine Vision 

And of the sports of Wisdom in the Human Imagination

Which is the Divine Body of the Lord Jesus. blessed for ever.

Mark well my words. they are of your eternal salvation:

Urizen lay in darkness & solitude, in chains of the mind lock’d up 

Los siezd his Hammer & Tongs; he labourd at his resolute Anvil

Among indefinite Druid rocks & snows of doubt & reasoning.

Refusing all Definite Form, the Abstract Horror roofd. stony hard.

And a first Age passed over & a State of dismal woe:

Down sunk with fright a red round Globe hot burning. deep 

Deep down into the Abyss. panting: conglobing: trembling ;

And a second Age passed over & a State of dismal woe.

Rolling round into two little Orbs & closed in two little Caves 

The Eyes beheld the Abyss: lest bones of solidness freeze over all 

And a third Age passed over & a State of dismal woe.

From beneath his Orbs of Vision, Two Ears in close volutions 

Shot spiring out in the deep darkness & petrified as they grew 

And a fourth Age passed over & a State of dismal woe.

Hanging upon the wind, Two Nostrils bent down into the 

Deep And a fifth Age passed over & a State of dismal woe.

In ghastly torment sick, a Tongue of hunger & thirst flamed out

And a sixth Age passed over & a State of dismal woe.

Enraged & stifled without & within: in terror & woe, he threw his 

Right Arm to the north, his left Arm to the south, & his 

Feet Stampd the nether Abyss in trembling & howling & dismay 

And a seventh Age passed over & a State of dismal woe

Terrified Los stood in the Abyss & his immortal limbs 

Grew deadly pale; he became what he beheld: for a red 

Round Globe sunk down from his Bosom into the Deep in pangs 

He hoverd over it trembling & weeping. suspended it shook 

The nether Abyss in tremblings. he wept over it, he cherish’d it

 In deadly sickening pain: till separated into a Female pale 

As the cloud that brings the snow: all the while from his Back 

A blue fluid exuded in Sinews hardening in the Abyss

Till it separated into a Male Form howling in Jealousy

Within labouring. beholding Without: from Particulars to Generals 

Subduing his Spectre, they Builded the Looms of Generation 

They Builded Great Golgonooza Times on Times Ages on Ages 

First Orc was Born then the Shadowy Female: then All Los’s Family 

At last Enitharmon brought forth Satan Refusing Form, in vain 

The Miller of Eternity made subservient to the Great Harvest 

That he may go to his own Place Prince of the Starry Wheels

Beneath the Plow of Rintrah & the harrow of the Almighty 

In the hands of Palamabron. Where the Starry Mills of Satan 

Are built beneath the Earth & Waters of the Mundane Shell 

Here the Three Classes of Men take their Sexual texture Woven 

The Sexual is Threefold: the Human is Fourfold.

If you account it Wisdom when you are angry to be silent, and 

Not to shew it: I do not account that Wisdom but Folly.

Every Mans Wisdom is peculiar to his own Individ[u]ality 

O Satan my youngest born, art thou not Prince of the Starry Hosts 

And of the Wheels of Heaven, to turn the Mills day & night?

Art thou not Newtons Pantocrator weaving the Woof of Locke 

To Mortals thy Mills seem every thing & the Harrow of Shaddai 

A scheme of Human conduct invisible & incomprehensible 

Get to thy Labours at the Mills & leave me to my wrath.

Satan was going to reply, but Los roll’d his loud thunders.

Anger me not! thou canst not drive the Harrow in pitys paths.

Thy Work is Eternal Death, with Mills & Ovens & Cauldrons.

Trouble me no more. thou canst not have Eternal Life

So Los spoke! Satan trembling obeyd weeping along the way.

Mark well my words, they are of your eternal Salvation

Between South Molton Street & Stratford Place: Calvarys foot 

Where the Victims were preparing for Sacrifice their Cherubim 

Around their loins pourd forth their arrows & their bosoms beam 

With all colours of precious stones, & their inmost palaces 

Resounded with preparation of animals wild & tame 

(Mark well my words! Corporeal Friends are Spiritual Enemies) 

Mocking Druidical Mathematical 

Proportion of Length Bredth Highth Displaying 

Naked Beauty! with Flute & Harp & Song

Palamabron with the fiery Harrow in morning returning 

From breathing fields. Satan fainted beneath the artillery 

Christ took on Sin in the Virgins Womb, & put it off on the Cross

All pitied the piteous & was wrath with the wrathful & Los heard it.

And this is the manner of the Daughters of Albion in their beauty 

Every one is threefold in Head & Heart & Reins, & every one 

Has three Gates into the Three Heavens of Beulah which shine 

Translucent in their Foreheads & their Bosoms & their Loins 

Surrounded with fires unapproachable: but whom they please 

They take up into their Heavens in intoxicating delight 

For the Elect cannot be Redeemd, but Created continually 

By Offering & Atonement in the crue[l]ties of Moral Law 

Hence the three Classes of Men take their fix’d destinations 

They are the Two Contraries & the Reasoning Negative.

While the Females prepare the Victims. the Males at Furnaces 

And Anvils dance the dance of tears & pain. loud lightnings 

Lash on their limbs as they turn the whirlwinds loose upon 

The Furnaces, lamenting around the Anvils & this their Song

Ah weak & wide astray! Ah shut in narrow doleful form 

Creeping in reptile flesh upon the bosom of the ground 

The Eye of Man a little narrow orb closd up & dark 

Scarcely beholding the great light conversing with the Void 

The Ear, a little shell in small volutions shutting out 

All melodies & comprehending only Discord and Harmony 

The Tongue a little moisture fills, a little food it cloys 

A little sound it utters & its cries are faintly heard 

Then brings forth Moral Virtue the cruel Virgin Babylon

Can such an Eye judge of the stars? & looking thro its tubes 

Measure the sunny rays that point their spears on Udanadan 

Can such an Ear filld with the vapours of the yawning pit.

Judge of the pure melodious harp struck by a hand divine?

Can such closed Nostrils feel a joy? or tell of autumn fruits 

When grapes & figs burst their covering to the joyful air 

Can such a Tongue boast of the living waters? or take in 

Ought but the Vegetable Ratio & loathe the faint delight 

Can such gross Lips percieve? alas! folded within themselves 

They touch not ought but pallid turn & tremble at every wind

Thus they sing Creating the Three Classes among Druid Rocks 

Charles calls on Milton for Atonement. Cromwell is ready 

James calls for fires in Golgonooza. for heaps of smoking ruins 

In the night of prosperity and wantonness which he himself 

Created Among the Daughters of Albion among the 

Rocks of the Druids When Satan fainted beneath the arrows of Elynittria

And Mathematic Proportion was subdued by Living Proportion

From Golgonooza the spiritual Fourfold London eternal 

In immense labours & sorrows, ever building, ever falling, 

Thro Albions four Forests which overspread all the Earth, 

From London Stone to Blackheath east: to Hounslow west: 

To Finchley north: to Norwood south: and the weights

Of Enitharmons Loom play lulling cadences on the winds of Albion 

From Caithness in the north, to Lizard-point & Dover in the south

Loud sounds the Hammer of Los, & loud his Bellows is heard 

Before London to Hampsteads breadths & Highgates heights 

To Stratford & old Bow: & across to the Gardens of Kensington 

On Tyburns Brook: loud groans Thames beneath the iron Forge 

Of Rintrah & Palamabron of Theotorm[on] & Bromion, to forge the instruments 

Of Harvest: the Plow & Harrow to pass over the Nations

The Surrey hills glow like the clinkers of the furnace: Lambeths Vale 

Where Jerusalems foundations began; where they were laid in ruins

Where they were laid in ruins from every Nation & Oak Groves rooted

Dark gleams before the Furnace-mouth a heap of burning ashes 

When shall Jerusalem return & overspread all the Nations 

Return: return to Lambeths Vale O building of human souls 

Thence stony Druid Temples overspread the Island white 

And thence from Jerusalems ruins.. from her walls of salvation 

And praise: thro the whole Earth were reard from Ireland 

To Mexico & Peru west, & east to China & Japan; till Babel 

The Spectre of Albion frownd over the Nations in glory & war 

All things begin & end in Albions ancient Druid rocky shore 

But now the Starry Heavens are fled from the mighty limbs of Albion

Loud sounds the Hammer of Los, loud turn the Wheels of Enitharmon 

Her Looms vibrate with soft affections, weaving the 

Web of Life Out from the ashes of the Dead; Los lifts his iron Ladles 

With molten ore: he heaves the iron cliffs in his rattling chains 

From Hyde Park to the Alms-houses of Mile-end & old 

Bow Here the Three Classes of Mortal Men take their fixd destinations 

And hence they overspread the Nations of the whole Earth & hence 

The Web of Life is woven: & the tender sinews of life created 

And the Three Classes of Men regulated by Los’s hammer.

The first, The Elect from before the foundation of the World: 

The second, The Redeem’d. The Third, The Reprobate & form’d 

To destruction from the mothers womb: follow with me my plow!

Of the first class was Satan: with incomparable mildness; 

His primitive tyrannical attempts on Los: with most endearing love 

He soft intreated Los to give to him Palamabrons station; 

For Palamabron returnd with labour wearied every evening 

Palamabron oft refus’d; and as often Satan offer’d

His service till by repeated offers and repeated intreaties 

Los gave to him the Harrow of the Almighty; alas blamable 

Palamabron. fear’d to be angry lest Satan should accuse him of 

Ingratitude, & Los believe the accusation thro Satans extreme 

Mildness. Satan labour’d all day. it was a thousand years 

In the evening returning terrified overlabourd & astonish’d