The Mental Travellert
I traveld thro' a Land of Men
A Land of Men and Women too
And heard and saw such dreadful things
As cold Earth wanderers never knew
For there the Babe is born in joy
That was begotten in dire woe
Just as we Reap in joy the fruit
Which we in bitter tears did sow
And if the Babe is born a Boy
He's given to a Woman Old 10
Who nails him down upon a rock
Catches his Shrieks in Cups of gold
She binds iron thorns around his head
She pierces both his hands and feet
She cuts his heart out at his side
To make it feel both cold and heat
Her fingers number every Nerve
Just as a Miser counts his gold
She lives upon his shrieks and cries
And She grows young as he grows old
Till he becomes a bleeding youth
And she becomes a Virgin bright
Then he rends up his Manacles
And binds her down for his delight
He plants himself in all her Nerves
Just as a Husbandman his mould
And She becomes his dwelling place
And Garden fruitful Seventy fold
An aged Shadow soon he fades
Wandring round an Earthly Cot
Full filled all with gems and gold
Which he by industry had got
And these are the gems of the Human Soul
The rubies and pearls of a lovesick eye
The countless gold of the akeing heart
The martyrs groan and the lovers sigh
They are his meat they are his drink
He feeds the Beggar and the Poor
And the way faring Traveller
For ever open is his door
[...] Read more
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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