Reveal the dragon thro’ the human; coursing swift as fire
To the close hall of counsel, where his Angel form renews.
In a sweet vale shelter’d with cedars, that eternal stretch
Their unmov’d branches, stood the hall; built when the moon shot forth,
In that dread night when Urizen call’d the stars round his feet;
Then burst the center from its orb, and found a place beneath;
And Earth conglob’d, in narrow room, roll’d round its sulphur Sun.
To this deep valley situated by the flowing Thames;
Where George the third holds council & his Lords & Commons meet:
Shut out from mortal sight the Angel came; the vale was dark
With clouds of smoke from the Atlantic, that in volumes roll’d
Between the mountains, dismal visions mope around the house.
On chairs of iron, canopied with mystic ornaments,
Of life by magic power condens’d; infernal forms art-bound
The council sat; all rose before the aged apparition;
His snowy beard that streams like lambent flames down his wide breast
Wetting with tears, & his white garments cast a wintry light.
Then as arm’d clouds arise terrific round the northern drum;
The world is silent at the flapping of the folding banners;
So still terrors rent the house: as when the solemn globe
Launch’d to the unknown shore, while Sotha held the northern helm,
Till to that void it came & fell; so the dark house was rent,
The valley mov’d beneath; its shining pillars split in twain,
And its roofs crack across down falling on th’Angelic seats.
To the close hall of counsel, where his Angel form renews.
In a sweet vale shelter’d with cedars, that eternal stretch
Their unmov’d branches, stood the hall; built when the moon shot forth,
In that dread night when Urizen call’d the stars round his feet;
Then burst the center from its orb, and found a place beneath;
And Earth conglob’d, in narrow room, roll’d round its sulphur Sun.
To this deep valley situated by the flowing Thames;
Where George the third holds council & his Lords & Commons meet:
Shut out from mortal sight the Angel came; the vale was dark
With clouds of smoke from the Atlantic, that in volumes roll’d
Between the mountains, dismal visions mope around the house.
On chairs of iron, canopied with mystic ornaments,
Of life by magic power condens’d; infernal forms art-bound
The council sat; all rose before the aged apparition;
His snowy beard that streams like lambent flames down his wide breast
Wetting with tears, & his white garments cast a wintry light.
Then as arm’d clouds arise terrific round the northern drum;
The world is silent at the flapping of the folding banners;
So still terrors rent the house: as when the solemn globe
Launch’d to the unknown shore, while Sotha held the northern helm,
Till to that void it came & fell; so the dark house was rent,
The valley mov’d beneath; its shining pillars split in twain,
And its roofs crack across down falling on th’Angelic seats.
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