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AMTitle; E51|        AMERICA a PROPHECY   t154

AMPub; E51|        LAMBETH

AMcolophon; E51|        Printed by William Blake in the year 1793.

AM; E51|        PRELUDIUM   t155

Am1.1;   E51|        The shadowy daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc.
Am1.2;   E51|        When fourteen suns had faintly journey'd o'er his dark abode;
Am1.3;   E51|        His food she brought in iron baskets, his drink in cups of iron;
Am1.4;   E51|        Crown'd with a helmet & dark hair the nameless female stood;
Am1.5;   E51|        A quiver with its burning stores, a bow like that of night,
Am1.6;   E51|        When pestilence is shot from heaven; no other arms she need:
Am1.7;   E51|        Invulnerable tho' naked, save where clouds roll round her loins,
Am1.8;   E51|        Their awful folds in the dark air; silent she stood as night;
Am1.9;   E51|        For never from her iron tongue could voice or sound arise;
Am1.10; E51|        But dumb till that dread day when Orc assay'd his fierce embrace.

Am1.11; E51|        Dark virgin; said the hairy youth, thy father stern abhorr'd;
Am1.12; E51|        Rivets my tenfold chains while still on high my spirit soars;
Am1.13; E51|        Sometimes an eagle screaming in the sky, sometimes a lion,
Am1.14; E51|        Stalking upon the mountains, & sometimes a whale I lash
Am1.15; E51|        The raging fathomless abyss, anon a serpent folding

Am1.16; E51|        Around the pillars of Urthona, and round thy dark limbs,
Am1.17; E51|        On the Canadian wilds I fold, feeble my spirit folds.
Am1.18; E51|        For chaind beneath I rend these caverns; when thou bringest food
Am1.19; E51|        I howl my joy! and my red eyes seek to behold thy face
Am1.20; E51|        In vain! these clouds roll to & fro, & hide thee from my sight.

Am2.1;   E52|        Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy,
Am2.2;   E52|        The hairy shoulders rend the links, free are the wrists of fire;
Am2.3;   E52|        Round the terrific loins he siez'd the panting struggling womb;
Am2.4;   E52|        It joy'd: she put aside her clouds & smiled her first-born smile;
Am2.5;   E52|        As when a black cloud shews its light'nings to the silent deep.

Am2.6;   E52|        Soon as she saw the terrible boy then burst the virgin cry.

Am2.7;   E52|        I know thee, I have found thee, & I will not let thee go;
Am2.8;   E52|        Thou art the image of God who dwells in darkness of Africa;
Am2.9;   E52|        And thou art fall'n to give me life in regions of dark death.
Am2.10; E52|        On my American plains I feel the struggling afflictions
Am2.11; E52|        Endur'd by roots that writhe their arms into the nether deep:
Am2.12; E52|        I see a serpent in Canada, who courts me to his love;
Am2.13; E52|        In Mexico an Eagle, and a Lion in Peru;
Am2.14; E52|        I see a Whale in the South-sea, drinking my soul away.
Am2.15; E52|        O what limb rending pains I feel. thy fire & my frost
Am2.16; E52|        Mingle in howling pains, in furrows by thy lightnings rent;
Am2.17; E52|        This is eternal death; and this the torment long foretold.

Am2.18; E52|        [The stern Bard ceas'd, asham'd of his own song; enrag'd he swung]   t156
Am2.19; E52|        [His harp aloft sounding, then dash'd its shining frame against]
Am2.20; E52|        [A ruin'd pillar in glittring fragments; silent he turn'd away,]
Am2.21; E52|        [And wander'd down the vales of Kent in sick & drear lamentings. ]

Am3;   E52|        A PROPHECY

Am3.2;   E52|        The Guardian Prince of Albion burns in his nightly tent,
Am3.3;   E52|        Sullen fires across the Atlantic glow to America's shore:
Am3.4;   E52|        Piercing the souls of warlike men, who rise in silent night,
Am3.5;   E52|        Washington, Franklin, Paine & Warren, Gates, Hancock & Green;   t157
Am3.6;   E52|        Meet on the coast glowing with blood from Albions fiery Prince.

Am3.7;   E52|        Washington spoke; Friends of America look over the Atlantic sea;
Am3.8;   E52|        A bended bow is lifted in heaven, & a heavy iron chain   t158
Am3.9;   E52|        Descends link by link from Albions cliffs across the sea to bind
Am3.10; E52|        Brothers & sons of America, till our faces pale and yellow;
Am3.11; E52|        Heads deprest, voices weak, eyes downcast, hands work-bruis'd,   t159
Am3.12; E52|        Feet bleeding on the sultry sands, and the furrows of the whip   t160
Am3.13; E52|        Descend to generations that in future times forget.----

Am3.14; E52|        The strong voice ceas'd; for a terrible blast swept over the heaving sea;
Am3.15; E52|        The eastern cloud rent; on his cliffs stood Albions wrathful Prince   t161
Am3.16; E52|        A dragon form clashing his scales at midnight he arose,
Am3.17; E52|        And flam'd red meteors round the land of Albion beneath[.]   t162
Am3.18; E52|        His voice, his locks, his awful shoulders, and his glowing eyes,

Am4.1;   E53|        Appear to the Americans upon the cloudy night.

Am4.2;   E53|        Solemn heave the Atlantic waves between the gloomy nations,
Am4.3;   E53|        Swelling, belching from its deeps red clouds & raging Fires!
Am4.4;   E53|        Albion is sick. America faints! enrag'd the Zenith grew.
Am4.5;   E53|        As human blood shooting its veins all round the orbed heaven
Am4.6;   E53|        Red rose the clouds from the Atlantic in vast wheels of blood
Am4.7;   E53|        And in the red clouds rose a Wonder o'er the Atlantic sea;
Am4.8;   E53|        Intense! naked! a Human fire fierce glowing, as the wedge
Am4.9;   E53|        Of iron heated in the furnace; his terrible limbs were fire
Am4.10; E53|        With myriads of cloudy terrors banners dark & towers
Am4.11; E53|        Surrounded; heat but not light went thro' the murky atmosphere

Am4.12; E53|        The King of England looking westward trembles at the vision

Am5.1;   E53|        Albions Angel stood beside the Stone of night, and saw
Am5.2;   E53|        The terror like a comet, or more like the planet red
Am5.3;   E53|        That once inclos'd the terrible wandering comets in its sphere.
Am5.4;   E53|        Then Mars thou wast our center, & the planets three flew round
Am5.5;   E53|        Thy crimson disk; so e'er the Sun was rent from thy red sphere;
Am5.6;   E53|        The Spectre glowd his horrid length staining the temple long
Am5.7;   E53|        With beams of blood; & thus a voice came forth, and shook the temple

Am6.1;   E53|        The morning comes, the night decays, the watchmen leave their stations;
Am6.2;   E53|        The grave is burst, the spices shed, the linen wrapped up;
Am6.3;   E53|        The bones of death, the cov'ring clay, the sinews shrunk & dry'd.
Am6.4;   E53|        Reviving shake, inspiring move, breathing! awakening!
Am6.5;   E53|        Spring like redeemed captives when their bonds & bars are burst;

Am6.6;   E53|        Let the slave grinding at the mill, run out into the field:
Am6.7;   E53|        Let him look up into the heavens & laugh in the bright air;
Am6.8;   E53|        Let the inchained soul shut up in darkness and in sighing,
Am6.9;   E53|        Whose face has never seen a smile in thirty weary years;
Am6.10; E53|        Rise and look out, his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open.
Am6.11; E53|        And let his wife and children return from the opressors scourge;
Am6.12; E53|        They look behind at every step & believe it is a dream.
Am6.13; E53|        Singing. The Sun has left his blackness, & has found a fresher morning
Am6.14; E53|        And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear & cloudless night;
Am6.15; E53|        For Empire is no more, and now the Lion & Wolf shall cease.

Am7.1;   E53|        In thunders ends the voice. Then Albions Angel wrathful burnt
Am7.2;   E53|        Beside the Stone of Night; and like the Eternal Lions howl
Am7.3;   E53|        In famine & war, reply'd. Art thou not Orc, who serpent-form'd
Am7.4;   E53|        Stands at the gate of Enitharmon to devour her children;
Am7.5;   E53|        Blasphemous Demon, Antichrist, hater of Dignities;

Am7.6;   E54|        Lover of wild rebellion, and transgresser of Gods Law;
Am7.7;   E54|        Why dost thou come to Angels eyes in this terrific form?

Am8.1;   E54|        The terror answerd: I am Orc, wreath'd round the accursed tree:
Am8.2;   E54|        The times are ended; shadows pass the morning gins to break;
Am8.3;   E54|        The fiery joy, that Urizen perverted to ten commands,
Am8.4;   E54|        What night he led the starry hosts thro' the wide wilderness:
Am8.5;   E54|        That stony law I stamp to dust: and scatter religion abroad
Am8.6;   E54|        To the four winds as a torn book, & none shall gather the leaves;
Am8.7;   E54|        But they shall rot on desart sands, & consume in bottomless deeps;
Am8.8;   E54|        To make the desarts blossom, & the deeps shrink to their fountains,
Am8.9;   E54|        And to renew the fiery joy, and burst the stony roof.
Am8.10; E54|        That pale religious letchery, seeking Virginity,
Am8.11; E54|        May find it in a harlot, and in coarse-clad honesty
Am8.12; E54|        The undefil'd tho' ravish'd in her cradle night and morn:
Am8.13; E54|        For every thing that lives is holy, life delights in life;
Am8.14; E54|        Because the soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd.
Am8.15; E54|        Fires inwrap the earthly globe, yet man is not consumd;
Am8.16; E54|        Amidst the lustful fires he walks: his feet become like brass,
Am8.17; E54|        His knees and thighs like silver, & his breast and head like gold.

Am9.1;   E54|        Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets & alarm my Thirteen Angels!
Am9.2;   E54|        Loud howls the eternal Wolf! the eternal Lion lashes his tail!
Am9.3;   E54|        America is darkned; and my punishing Demons terrified
Am9.4;   E54|        Crouch howling before their caverns deep like skins dry'd in the wind.
Am9.5;   E54|        They cannot smite the wheat, nor quench the fatness of the earth.
Am9.6;   E54|        They cannot smite with sorrows, nor subdue the plow and spade.
Am9.7;   E54|        They cannot wall the city, nor moat round the castle of princes.
Am9.8;   E54|        They cannot bring the stubbed oak to overgrow the hills.
Am9.9;   E54|        For terrible men stand on the shores, & in their robes I see
Am9.10; E54|        Children take shelter from the lightnings, there stands Washington
Am9.11; E54|        And Paine and Warren with their foreheads reard toward the east
Am9.12; E54|        But clouds obscure my aged sight. A vision from afar!
Am9.13; E54|        Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets & alarm my thirteen Angels:
Am9.14; E54|        Ah vision from afar! Ah rebel form that rent the ancient
Am9.15; E54|        Heavens; Eternal Viper self-renew'd, rolling in clouds
Am9.16; E54|        I see thee in thick clouds and darkness on America's shore.
Am9.17; E54|        Writhing in pangs of abhorred birth; red flames the crest rebellious
Am9.18; E54|        And eyes of death; the harlot womb oft opened in vain
Am9.19; E54|        Heaves in enormous circles, now the times are return'd upon thee,
Am9.20; E54|        Devourer of thy parent, now thy unutterable torment renews.
Am9.21; E54|        Sound! sound! my loud war trumpets & alarm my thirteen Angels!
Am9.22; E54|        Ah terrible birth! a young one bursting! where is the weeping mouth?
Am9.23; E54|        And where the mothers milk? instead those ever-hissing jaws
Am9.24; E54|        And parched lips drop with fresh gore; now roll thou in the clouds

Am9.25; E55|        Thy mother lays her length outstretch'd upon the shore beneath.
Am9.26; E55|        Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets & alarm my thirteen Angels!
Am9.27; E55|        Loud howls the eternal Wolf: the eternal Lion lashes his tail!

Am10.1;   E55|        Thus wept the Angel voice & as he wept the terrible blasts
Am10.2;   E55|        Of trumpets, blew a loud alarm across the Atlantic deep.
Am10.3;   E55|        No trumpets answer; no reply of clarions or of fifes,
Am10.4;   E55|        Silent the Colonies remain and refuse the loud alarm.

Am10.5;   E55|        On those vast shady hills between America & Albions shore;
Am10.6;   E55|        Now barr'd out by the Atlantic sea: call'd Atlantean hills:
Am10.7;   E55|        Because from their bright summits you may pass to the Golden world
Am10.8;   E55|        An ancient palace, archetype of mighty Emperies,
Am10.9;   E55|        Rears its immortal pinnacles, built in the forest of God
Am10.0;   E55|        By Ariston the king of beauty for his stolen bride,

Am10.11; E55|        Here on their magic seats the thirteen Angels sat perturb'd
Am10.12; E55|        For clouds from the Atlantic hover o'er the solemn roof.

Am11.13; E55|        Fiery the Angels rose, & as they rose deep thunder roll'd
Am11.14; E55|        Around their shores: indignant burning with the fires of Orc
Am11.15; E55|        And Bostons Angel cried aloud as they flew thro' the dark night.

Am11.16; E55|        He cried: Why trembles honesty and like a murderer,
Am11.17; E55|        Why seeks he refuge from the frowns of his immortal station!
Am11.18; E55|        Must the generous tremble & leave his joy, to the idle: to the pestilence!
Am11.19; E55|        That mock him? who commanded this? what God? what Angel!
Am11.20; E55|        To keep the gen'rous from experience till the ungenerous
Am11.21; E55|        Are unrestraind performers of the energies of nature;
Am11.22; E55|        Till pity is become a trade, and generosity a science,
Am11.23; E55|        That men get rich by, & the sandy desart is giv'n to the strong
Am11.24; E55|        What God is he, writes laws of peace, & clothes him in a tempest
Am11.25; E55|        What pitying Angel lusts for tears, and fans himself with sighs
Am11.26; E55|        What crawling villain preaches abstinence & wraps himself
Am11.27; E55|        In fat of lambs? no more I follow, no more obedience pay.

Am12.1;   E55|        So cried he, rending off his robe & throwing down his scepter.
Am12.2;   E55|        In sight of Albions Guardian, and all the thirteen Angels
Am12.3;   E55|        Rent off their robes to the hungry wind, & threw their golden scepters
Am12.4;   E55|        Down on the land of America. indignant they descended
Am12.5;   E55|        Headlong from out their heav'nly heights, descending swift as fires
Am12.6;   E55|        Over the land; naked & flaming are their lineaments seen
Am12.7;   E55|        In the deep gloom, by Washington & Paine & Warren they stood
Am12.8;   E55|        And the flame folded roaring fierce within the pitchy night
Am12.9;   E55|        Before the Demon red, who burnt towards America,
Am12.10; E55|        In black smoke thunders and loud winds rejoicing in its terror

Am12.11; E56|        Breaking in smoky wreaths from the wild deep, & gath'ring thick
Am12.12; E56|        In flames as of a furnace on the land from North to South

Am13.1;   E56|        What time the thirteen Governors that England sent convene
Am13.2;   E56|        In Bernards house; the flames coverd the land, they rouze they cry
Am13.3;   E56|        Shaking their mental chains they rush in fury to the sea
Am13.4;   E56|        To quench their anguish; at the feet of Washington down fall'n
Am13.5;   E56|        They grovel on the sand and writhing lie, while all

Am13.6;   E56|        The British soldiers thro' the thirteen states sent up a howl
Am13.7;   E56|        Of anguish: threw their swords & muskets to the earth & ran
Am13.8;   E56|        From their encampments and dark castles seeking where to hide
Am13.9;   E56|        From the grim flames; and from the visions of Orc; in sight
Am13.10; E56|        Of Albions Angel; who enrag'd his secret clouds open'd
Am13.11; E56|        From north to south, and burnt outstretchd on wings of wrath cov'ring
Am13.12; E56|        The eastern sky, spreading his awful wings across the heavens;
Am13.13; E56|        Beneath him roll'd his num'rous hosts, all Albions Angels camp'd
Am13.14; E56|        Darkend the Atlantic mountains & their trumpets shook the valleys
Am13.15; E56|        Arm'd with diseases of the earth to cast upon the Abyss,
Am13.16; E56|        Their numbers forty millions, must'ring in the eastern sky.

Am14.16; E56|        In the flames stood & view'd the armies drawn out in the sky
Am14.17; E56|        Washington Franklin Paine & Warren Allen Gates & Lee:
Am14.18; E56|        And heard the voice of Albions Angel give the thunderous command:
Am14.19; E56|        His plagues obedient to his voice flew forth out of their clouds
Am14.20; E56|        Falling upon America, as a storm to cut them off
Am14.21; E56|        As a blight cuts the tender corn when it begins to appear.
Am14.22; E56|        Dark is the heaven above, & cold & hard the earth beneath;
Am14.23; E56|        And as a plague wind fill'd with insects cuts off man & beast;
Am14.24; E56|        And as a sea o'erwhelms a land in the day of an earthquake;   t163

Am14.25; E56|        Fury! rage! madness! in a wind swept through America
Am14.26; E56|        And the red flames of Orc that folded roaring fierce around
Am14.27; E56|        The angry shores, and the fierce rushing of th'inhabitants together:
Am14.28; E56|        The citizens of New-York close their books & lock their chests;
Am14.29; E56|        The mariners of Boston drop their anchors and unlade;
Am14.30; E56|        The scribe of Pensylvania casts his pen upon the earth;
Am14.31; E56|        The builder of Virginia throws his hammer down in fear.

Am14.32; E56|        Then had America been lost, o'erwhelm'd by the Atlantic,
Am14.33; E56|        And Earth had lost another portion of the infinite,
Am14.34; E56|        But all rush together in the night in wrath and raging fire
Am14.35; E56|        The red fires rag'd! the plagues recoil'd! then rolld they back with fury

Am15.1;   E56|        On Albions Angels; then the Pestilence began in streaks of red
Am15.2;   E56|        Across the limbs of Albions Guardian, the spotted plague smote Bristols

Am15.3;   E57|        And the Leprosy Londons Spirit, sickening all their bands:
Am15.4;   E57|        The millions sent up a howl of anguish and threw off their hammerd mail,
Am15.5;   E57|        And cast their swords & spears to earth, & stood a naked multitude.
Am15.6;   E57|        Albions Guardian writhed in torment on the eastern sky
Am15.7;   E57|        Pale quivring toward the brain his glimmering eyes, teeth chattering
Am15.8;   E57|        Howling & shuddering his legs quivering; convuls'd each muscle & sinew
Am15.9;   E57|        Sick'ning lay Londons Guardian, and the ancient miter'd York
Am15.10; E57|        Their heads on snowy hills, their ensigns sick'ning in the sky

Am15.11; E57|        The plagues creep on the burning winds driven by flames of Orc,
Am15.12; E57|        And by the fierce Americans rushing together in the night
Am15.13; E57|        Driven o'er the Guardians of Ireland and Scotland and Wales
Am15.14; E57|        They spotted with plagues forsook the frontiers & their banners seard
Am15.15; E57|        With fires of hell, deform their ancient heavens with shame & woe.
Am15.16; E57|        Hid in his caves the Bard of Albion felt the enormous plagues.
Am15.17; E57|        And a cowl of flesh grew o'er his head & scales on his back & ribs;
Am15.18; E57|        And rough with black scales all his Angels fright their ancient heavens
Am15.19; E57|        The doors of marriage are open, and the Priests in rustling scales
Am15.20; E57|        Rush into reptile coverts, hiding from the fires of Orc,
Am15.21; E57|        That play around the golden roofsin wreaths of fierce desire,
Am15.22; E57|        Leaving the females naked and glowing with the lusts of youth

Am15.23; E57|        For the female spirits of the dead pining in bonds of religion;
Am15.24; E57|        Run from their fetters reddening, & in long drawn arches sitting:
Am15.25; E57|        They feel the nerves of youth renew, and desires of ancient times,
Am15.26; E57|        Over their pale limbs as a vine when the tender grape appears

Am16.1;   E57|        Over the hills, the vales, the cities, rage the red flames fierce;
Am16.2;   E57|        The Heavens melted from north to south; and Urizen who sat
Am16.3;   E57|        Above all heavens in thunders wrap'd, emerg'd his leprous head
Am16.4;   E57|        From out his holy shrine, his tears in deluge piteous
Am16.5;   E57|        Falling into the deep sublime! flag'd with grey-brow'd snows
Am16.6;   E57|        And thunderous visages, his jealous wings wav'd over the deep;
Am16.7;   E57|        Weeping in dismal howling woe he dark descended howling
Am16.8;   E57|        Around the smitten bands, clothed in tears & trembling shudd'ring cold.
Am16.9;   E57|        His stored snows he poured forth, and his icy magazines
Am16.10; E57|        He open'd on the deep, and on the Atlantic sea white shiv'ring.
Am16.11; E57|        Leprous his limbs, all over white, and hoary was his visage.
Am16.12; E57|        Weeping in dismal howlings before the stern Americans
Am16.13; E57|        Hiding the Demon red with clouds & cold mists from the earth;
Am16.14; E57|        Till Angels & weak men twelve years should govern o'er the strong:
Am16.15; E57|        And then their end should come, when France reciev'd the Demons light.

Am16.16; E57|        Stiff shudderings shook the heav'nly thrones! France Spain & Italy,
Am16.17; E57|        In terror view'd the bands of Albion, and the ancient Guardians
Am16.18; E57|        Fainting upon the elements, smitten with their own plagues


Am16.19; E58|        They slow advance to shut the five gates of their law-built heaven
Am16.20; E58|        Filled with blasting fancies and with mildews of despair
Am16.21; E58|        With fierce disease and lust, unable to stem the fires of Orc;
Am16.22; E58|        But the five gates were consum'd, & their bolts and hinges melted
Am16.23; E58|        And the fierce flames burnt round the heavens, & round the abodes of men

Am16.24; E58|        FINIS
ED-AM; E58|        [Canceled Plates]   t165
AM-b.1;   E58|        Reveal the dragon thro' the human; coursing swift as fire
AM-b.2;   E58|        To the close hall of counsel, where his Angel form renews.

AM-b.3;   E58|        In a sweet vale shelter'd with cedars, that eternal stretch
AM-b.4;   E58|        Their unmov'd branches, stood the hall; built when the moon shot forth,
AM-b.5;   E58|        In that dread night when Urizen call'd the stars round his feet;
AM-b.6;   E58|        Then burst the center from its orb, and found a place beneath;
AM-b.7;   E58|        And Earth conglob'd, in narrow room, roll'd round its sulphur Sun.

AM-b.8;   E58|        To this deep valley situated by the flowing Thames;
AM-b.9;   E58|        Where George the third holds council. & his Lords & Commons meet:
AM-b.10; E58|        Shut out from mortal sight the Angel came; the vale was dark
AM-b.11; E58|        With clouds of smoke from the Atlantic, that in volumes roll'd
AM-b.12; E58|        Between the mountains, dismal visions mope around the house.

AM-b.13; E58|        On chairs of iron, canopied with mystic ornaments,
AM-b.14; E58|        Of life by magic power condens'd; infernal forms art-bound
AM-b.15; E58|        The council sat; all rose before the aged apparition;
AM-b.16; E58|        His snowy beard that streams like lambent flames down his wide breast
AM-b.17; E58|        Wetting with tears, & his white garments cast a wintry light.

AM-b.18; E58|        Then as arm'd clouds arise terrific round the northern drum;
AM-b.19; E58|        The world is silent at the flapping of the folding banners;
AM-b.20; E58|        So still terrors rent the house: as when the solemn globe
AM-b.21; E58|        Launch'd to the unknown shore, while Sotha held the northern helm,
AM-b.22; E58|        Till to that void it came & fell; so the dark house was rent,
AM-b.23; E58|        The valley mov'd beneath; its shining pillars split in twain,
AM-b.24; E58|        And its roofs crack across down falling on th'Angelic seats.

AM-c.1;   E58|        [Then Albions Angel rose] resolv'd to the cove of armoury:   t166
AMc.2;   E58|        His shield that bound twelve demons & their cities in its orb,   t167
AM-c.3;   E58|        He took down from its trembling pillar; from its cavern deep,
AM-c.4;   E58|        His helm was brought by Londons Guardian, & his thirsty spear
AM-c.5;   E58|        By the wise spirit of Londons river: silent stood the King breathing damp mists:   t168
AM-c.6;   E58|        And on his aged limbs they clasp'd the armour of terrible gold.   t169

AM-c.7;   E59|        Infinite Londons awful spires cast a dreadful cold   t170
AM-c.8;   E59|        Even on rational things beneath, and from the palace walls   t171
AM-c.9;   E59|        Around Saint James's chill & heavy, even to the city gate.   t172

AM-c.10; E59|        On the vast stone whose name is Truth he stood, his cloudy shield
AM-c.11; E59|        Smote with his scepter, the scale bound orb loud howld; th' ancie[nt] pillar   t173
AM-c.12; E59|        Trembling sunk, an earthquake roll'd along the massy pile.   t174

AM-c.13; E59|        In glittring armour, swift as winds; intelligent as clouds;   t175
AM-c.14; E59|        Four winged heralds mount the furious blasts & blow their trumps
AM-c.15; E59|        Gold, silver, brass & iron clangors clamoring rend the shores.   t176
AM-c.16; E59|        Like white clouds rising from the deeps, his fifty-two armies
AM-c.17; E59|        From the four cliffs of Albion rise, mustering around their Prince;   t177
AM-c.18; E59|        Angels of cities and of parishes and villages and families,
AM-c.19; E59|        In armour as the nerves of wisdom, each his station holds.   t178

AM-c.20; E59|        In opposition dire, a warlike cloud the myriads stood
AM-c.21; E59|        In the red air before the Demon; [seen even by mortal men:   t179
AM-c.22; E59|        Who call it Fancy, & shut the gates of sense, & in their chambers,
AM-c.23; E59|        Sleep like the dead.] But like a constellation ris'n and blazing
AM-c.24; E59|        Over the rugged ocean; so the Angels of Albion hung,
AM-c.25; E59|        a frowning shadow, like an aged King in arms of gold,   t180
AM-c.26; E59|        Who wept over a den, in which his only son outstretch'd
AM-c.27; E59|        By rebels hands was slain; his white beard wav'd in the wild wind.   t181

AM-c.28; E59|        On mountains & cliffs of snow the awful apparition hover'd;
AM-c.29; E59|        And like the voices of religious dead, heard in the mountains:
AM-c.30; E59|        When holy zeal scents the sweet valleys of ripe virgin bliss;
AM-c.31; E59|        Such was the hollow voice that o'er America lamented.   t182

ED-AM; E59|        [Fragment]

ED-AM; E59|        [d]   t183

AM-d.1;   E59|        As when a dream of Thiralatha flies the midnight hour:
AM-d.2;   E59|        In vain the dreamer grasps the joyful images, they fly
AM-d.3;   E59|        Seen in obscured traces in the Vale of Leutha, So
AM-d.4;   E59|        The British Colonies beneath the woful Princes fade.

AM-d.5;   E59|        And so the Princes fade from earth, scarce seen by souls of men
AM-d.6;   E59|        But tho' obscur'd, this is the form of the Angelic land.


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