The crooked horn mellows the hoarse raving serpent, terrible, but harmonious.
Bowlahoola is the Stomach in every individual man.
Los is by mortals nam'd Time, Enitharmon is nam'd Space:
But they depict him bald & aged who is in eternal youth
70All powerful and his looks flourish like the brows of morning:
He is the Spirit of Prophecy, the ever apparent Elias.
Time is the mercy of Eternity; without Time's swiftness,
Which is the swiftest of all things, all were eternal torment.
All the Gods of the Kingdoms of Earth labour in Los's Halls:
75Every one is a fallen Son of the Spirit of Prophecy:
He is the Fourth Zoa that stood around the Throne Divine.
P. 24 BUT the Wine-press of Los is eastward of Golgonooza before the Seat
Of Satan: Luvah laid the foundation & Urizen finish'd it in howling woe.
How red the sons & daughters of Luvah! here they tread the grapes:
Laughing & shouting, drunk with odours, many fall o'erwearied,
5Drown'd in the wine is many a youth & maiden: those around
Lay them on skins of Tygers & of the spotted Leopard & the Wild Ass,
Till they revive, or bury them in cool grots, making lamentation.
This Wine-press is call'd War on Earth: it is the Printing-Press
Of Los: and here he lays his words in order above the mortal brain,
10As cogs are form'd in a wheel to turn the cogs of the adverse wheel.
Timbrels & violins sport round the Wine-presses; the little Seed,
The sportive Root, the Earth-worm, the gold Beetle, the wise Emmet
Dance round the Wine-presses of Luvah: the Centipede is there:
The ground Spider with many eyes: the Mole clothed in velvet:
15The ambitious Spider in his sullen web: the lucky golden Spinner:
The Earwig arm'd: the tender Maggot emblem of immortality:
The Flea: Louse: Bug: the Tape-worm: all the Armies of Disease:
Visible or invisible to the slothful vegetating Man.
The Slow Slug: the Grasshopper that sings & laughs & drinks:
20Winter comes, he folds his slender bones without a murmur.
The cruel Scorpion is there: the Gnat: Wasp: Hornet & the Honey Bee:
The Toad & venomous Newt; the Serpent cloth'd in gems & gold.
They throw off their gorgeous raiment: they rejoice with loud jubilee
Around the Wine-presses of Luvah, naked & drunk with wine.
25There is the Nettle that stings with soft down, and there
The indignant Thistle, whose bitterness is bred in his milk.
Who feeds on contempt of his neighbour: there all the idle weeds
That creep around the obscure places shew their various limbs
23
