Page:Life of William Blake, Pictor ignotus (Volume 2).djvu/99

82. THE DEFILED SANCTUARY.

I sxw a chapel all of gold That none did dare to enter in, And many weeping stood without, Weeping, mourning, worshipping. I saw a serpent rise between The white pillars of the door, And he forced and forced and forced Till he the golden hinges tore: And along the pavement sweet, Set with pearls and rubies bright, All his shining length he drew, upon the altar white He vomited his poison out On the bread and on the wine. So I turned into a sty, And laid me down among the swine.