The Clouds of Ololon folded as a Garment dipped in blood,
Written within & without in woven letters: & the Writing
Is the Divine Revelation in the Litteral expression:
15A Garment of War. I heard it nam'd the Woof of Six Thousand Years.
And I beheld the Twenty-four Cities of Albion
Arise upon their Thrones to Judge the Nations of the Earth:
And the Immortal Four in whom the Twenty-four appear Four-fold
Arose around Albion's body: Jesus wept, & walked forth
20From Felpham's Vale clothed in Clouds of blood, to enter into
Albion's Bosom, the bosom of death, & the Four surrounded him
In the Column of Fire in Felpham's Vale: then to their mouths the Four
Applied their Four Trumpets, & then sounded to the Four winds.
Terror struck in the Vale I stood at that immortal sound:
25My bones trembled, I fell outstretch'd upon the path
A moment, & my Soul returned into its mortal state,
To Resurrection & Judgment in the Vegetable Body:
And my sweet Shadow of delight stood trembling by my side.
Immediately the Lark mounted with a loud trill from Felpham's Vale,
30And the Wild Thyme from Wimbleton's green & impurpled Hills.
And Los & Enitharmon rose over the Hills of Surrey:
Their clouds roll over London with a south wind: soft Oothoon
Pants in the Vales of Lambeth, weeping o'er her Human Harvest.
Los listens to the Cry of the Poor Man: his Cloud
35Over London in volume terrific, low bended in anger.
Rintrah & Palamabron view the Human Harvest beneath.
Their Wine-presses & Barns stand open: the Ovens are prepar'd:
The Waggons ready: terrific Lions & Tygers sport & play:
All Animals upon the Earth are prepar'd in all their strength
P. 45 TO go forth to the Great Harvest & Vintage of the Nations.
Finis.
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