- Title:
- "His western heaven with rocky clouds..." (Plate 31)
- Part Of:
Collective Title: Jerusalem: The Emanation of The Giant Albion, Copy E
- Date:
- 1804 to 1820
- Materials & Techniques:
- Relief etching printed in orange ink, with watercolor and pen and black ink on moderately thick, smooth, cream wove paper
- Dimensions:
- Sheet: 13 1/2 x 10 3/8 inches (34.3 x 26.4 cm), Plate: 8 3/4 x 6 3/8 inches (22.3 x 16.2 cm)
- Inscription(s)/Marks/Lettering:
Inscribed in orange ink, upper right: "31"
Lettered inside image: "His western heaven with rocky clouds of death & despair. | Fearing that Albion should turn his back against the Divine Vision | Los took his globe of fire to search the interiors of Albion's | Bosom, in all the terrors of friendship, entering the caves | Of despair & death, to search the tempters out, walking among | Albion's rocks & precipices: caves of solitude & dark despair. | And saw every Minute Particular of Albion degraded & murder'd, | But saw not by whom; they were hidden within in the minute particulars | Of which they had possess'd themselves: and there they take up | The articulations of a man's soul, and laughing throw it down | Into the frame, then knock it out upon the plank, & souls are bak'd | In bricks to build the pyramids of Heber & Terah. But Los | Search'd in vain; clos'd from the minutia he walk'd, difficult | He came down from Highgate thro' Hackney & Holloway towards London, | Till he came to old Stratford & thence to Stepney & the Isle | Of Leutha's Dogs, thence thro' the narrows of the River's side | And saw every minute particular, the jewels of Albion, running down | The kennels of the streets & lanes as if they were abhorr'd. | Every Universal Form was become barren mountains of Moral | Virtue; and every Minute Particular harden'd into grains of sand: | And all the tendernesses of the soul cast forth as filth & mire. | Among the winding places of deep contemplation intricate, | To where the Tower of London frown'd dreadful over Jerusalem; | A building of Luvah builded in Jerusalem's eastern gate to be | His secluded Court: thence to Bethlehem where was builded | Dens of despair in the house of bread ; enquiring in vain | Of stones and rocks he took his way, for human form was none: | And thus he spoke, looking on Albion's City with many tears. | What shall I do? what could I do, if I could find these Criminals? | I could not dare to take vengeance: for all things are so constructed | And builded by the Divine hand that the sinner shall always escape, | And he who takes vengeance alone is the criminal of Providence: | If I should dare to lay my finger on a grain of sand | In way of vengeance, I punish the already punish'd; O whom | Should I pity if I pity not the sinner who is gone astray? | O Albion, if thou takest vengeance, if thou revengest thy wrongs, | Thou art for ever lost ! What can I do to hinder the Sons Of Albion from taking vengeance ? or how shall I them perswade ? | So spoke Los, travelling thro' darkness & horrid solitude : | And he beheld Jerusalem in Westminster & Marybone, | Among the ruins of the Temple; and Vala who is her Shadow. | Jerusalem's Shadow bent northward over the Island white. | At length he sat on London Stone, & heard Jerusalem's voice. | Albion, I cannot be thy Wife, thine own Minute Particulars | Belong to God alone, and all thy little ones are holy, | They are of Faith & not of Demonstration: wherefore is Vala | Cloth'd in black mourning upon my river's currents? Vala awake! | I hear thy shuttles sing in the sky, and round my limbs | I feel the iron threads of love & jealousy & despair. | Vala reply'd. Albion is mine! Luvah gave me to Albion, | And now recieves reproach & hate. Was it not said of old, | Set your Son before a man & he shall take you & your sons | For slaves; but set your Daughter before a man & She | Shall make him & his sons & daughters your slaves for ever. | And is this Faith? Behold the strife of Albion & Luvah | Is great in the east, their spears of blood rage in the eastern heaven. | Urizen is the champion of Albion, they will slay my Luvah: | And thou, O harlot daughter, daughter of despair, art all | This cause of these shakings of my towers on Euphrates. | Here is the House of Albion, & here is thy secluded place, | And here we have found thy sins; & hence we turn thee forth, | For all to avoid thee; to be astonish'd at thee for thy sins; | Because thou art the impurity & the harlot; & thy children, | Children of whoredoms; born for Sacrifice, for the meat & drink | Offering: to sustain the glorious combat & the battle & war, | That Man may be purified by the death of thy delusions. | So saying she her dark threads cast over the trembling River, | And over the valleys; from the hills of Hertfordshire to the hills | Of Surrey across Middlesex, & across Albion's House | Of Eternity; pale stood Albion at his eastern gate."
- Credit Line:
- Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection
- Copyright Status:
- Public Domain
- Accession Number:
- B1992.8.1(31)
- Classification:
- Prints
- Collection:
- Prints and Drawings
- Subject Terms:
- clouds | literary theme | net | religious and mythological subject | text | thread | weaving, hand | women
- Access:
- Accessible in the Study Room [Request]
- Link:
- https://collections.britishart.yale.edu/catalog/tms:3461
- Export:
- XML
- IIIF Manifest:
- JSON
William Blake (Tate Britain, 2000-11-02 - 2001-02-04) [YCBA Objects in the Exhibition]
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