Page:The prophetic books of William Blake, Milton.djvu/50

 Go forth Reapers with rejoicing, you sowed in tears,

But the time of your refreshing cometh: only a little moment

Still abstain from pleasure & rest, in the labours of eternity,

And you shall Reap the whole Earth from Pole to Pole: from Sea to Sea:

Beglning at Jerusalem's Inner Court, Lambeth ruin'd and given

To the detestable Gods of Priam, to Apollo: and at the Asylum

Given to Hercules who labour in Tirzah's Looms for bread,

Who set Pleasure against Duty: who Create Olympic crowns

To make Learning a burden, & the Work of the Holy Spirit, Strife:

The Thor & cruel Odin who first rear'd the Polar Caves.

Lambeth mourns, calling Jerusalem: she weeps & looks abroad

For the Lord's coming, that Jerusalem may overspread all Nations.

Crave not for the mortal & perishing delights, but leave them

To the weak, and pity the weak as your infant care; Break not

Forth in your wrath lest you also are vegetated by Tirzah.

Wait till the judgement is past, till the Creation is consumed,

And then rush forward with me into the glorious spiritual

Vegetation: the Supper of the Lamb & his Bride: and the

Awaking of Albion our friend and ancient companion.

So Los spoke. But lightnings of discontent broke on all sides round

And murmurs of thunder rolling heavy long & loud over the mountains,

While Los call'd his Sons around him to the Harvest & the Vintage.

Thou seest the Constellations in the deep & wondrous Night:

They rise in order and continue their immortal courses

Upon the mountains & in vales with harp & heavenly song,

With flute & clarion: with cups & measures fill'd with foaming wine.

Glitt'ring the streams reflect the Vision of beatitude,

And the calm Ocean joys beneath & smooths his awful waves:

P. 26 THESE are the Sons of Los, & these the Labourers of the Vintage.

Thou see'st the gorgeous clothed Flies that dance & sport in summer

Upon the sunny brooks & meadows: every one the dance

Knows in its intricate mazes of delight artful to weave:

Each one to sound his instruments of music in the dance,

To touch each other & recede: to cross & change & return.

These are the Children of Los. Thou seest the Trees on mountains:

The wind blows heavy, loud they thunder thro' the darksom sky,

Uttering prophecies & speaking instructive words to the sons

Of men: These are the Sons of Los: These the Visions of Eternity.

But we see only as it were the hem of their garments

When with our vegetable eyes we view these wondrous Visions. 26