The Book of Ahania (Chapter V )

    Weeping upon the Void！

    And round the Tree of Fuzon，

    Distant in solitary night，

    Her voice was heard， but no form

    Had she； but her tears from clouds

    Eternal fell round the Tree.

    2. And the voice cried： `Ah， Urizen！ Love！

    Flower of morning！ I weep on the verge

    Of Nonentity —— how wide the Abyss

    Between Ahania and thee！

    3. `I lie on the verge of the deep；

    I see thy dark clouds ascend；

    I see thy black forests and floods，

    A horrible waste to my eyes！

    4. `Weeping I walk over rocks，

    Over dens， and thro' valleys of death.

    Why didst thou despise Ahania，

    To cast me from thy bright presence

    Into the World of Loneness？

    5. `I cannot touch his hand，

    Nor weep on his knees， nor hear

    His voice and bow， nor see his eyes

    And joy； nor hear his footsteps， and

    My heart leap at the lovely sound！

    I cannot kiss the place

    Whereon his bright feet have trod；

    But I wander on the rocks

    With hard necessity.

    6. `Where is my golden palace？

    Where my ivory bed？

    Where the joy of my morning hour？

    Where the Sons of Eternity singing，

    7. `To awake bright Urizen， my King，

    To arise to the mountain sport，

    To the bliss of eternal valleys；

    8. `To awake my King in the morn，

    To embrace Ahania's joy

    On the breath of his open bosom，

    From my soft cloud of dew to fall

    In showers of life on his harvests？

    9. `When he gave my happy soul

    To the Sons of Eternal Joy；

    When he took the Daughters of Life

    Into my chambers of love；

    10. `When I found Babes of bliss on my beds，

    And bosoms of milk in my chambers，

    Fill'd with eternal seed ——

    O！ eternal births sung round Ahania，

    In interchange sweet of their joys！

    11. `Swell'd with ripeness and fat with fatness，

    Bursting on winds， my odours，

    My ripe figs and rich pomegranates，

    In infant joy at thy feet，

    O Urizen！ sported and sang.

    12. `Then thou with thy lap full of seed，

    With thy hand full of generous fire，

    Walkèd forth from the clouds of morning；

    On the virgins of springing joy，

    On the Human soul to cast

    The seed of eternal Science.

    13. `The sweat pourèd down thy temples，

    To Ahania return'd in evening；

    The moisture awoke to birth

    My mother's joys， sleeping in bliss.

    14. `But now alone！ over rocks， mountains，

    Cast out from thy lovely bosom！

    Cruel Jealousy， selfish Fear，

    Self- destroying！ how can delight

    Renew in these chains of darkness，

    Where bones of beasts are strown

    On the bleak and snowy mountains，

    Where bones from the birth are burièd

    Before they see the light？'