Jerusalem the Emanation of the Giant Albion by William Blake

[@brendantannam499]

It starts at 28:20.

[@nithaelhealing718]

thank you so much, this recording was so helpful, and beautifully read . main book starts 28.10

[@walrusassociation9317]

28:10 can be clicked on.

[@DishyLemon]

Thank you, both of you

[@Abblsdone]

Why do it blank out certain words during the reading?

[@questioneverything751]

Thank you

[@Cl0udsam222]

Reminds me of Midsommar

[@RasberrySkittle]

haha!

[@benjaminlquinlan8702]

This perhaps would be best understood of it were animated.

[@ishmaelforester9825]

'What is the price of Experience? do men buy it for a song? Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the price Of all that a man hath, his house, his wife, his children. Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy, And in the wither'd field where the farmer plows for bread in vain. It is an easy thing to triumph in the summer's sun And in the vintage and to sing on the waggon loaded with corn. It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted, To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wanderer, To listen to the hungry raven's cry in wintry season When the red blood is fill'd with wine and with the marrow of lambs. It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements, To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moan; To see a god on every wind and a blessing on every blast; To hear sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies' house; To rejoice in the blight that covers his field, and the sickness that cuts off his children, While our olive and vine sing and laugh round our door, and our children bring fruits and flowers. Then the groan and the dolor are quite forgotten, and the slave grinding at the mill, And the captive in chains, and the poor in the prison, and the soldier in the field When the shatter'd bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead. It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity: Thus could I sing and thus rejoice: but it is not so with me.' 'Compel the poor to live upon a crust of bread, by soft mild arts. Smile when they frown, frown when they smile; and when a man looks pale With labour and abstinence, say he looks healthy and happy; And when his children sicken, let them die; there are enough Born, even too many, and our earth will be overrun Without these arts. If you would make the poor live with temper, With pomp give every crust of bread you give; with gracious cunning Magnify small gifts; reduce the man to want a gift, and then give with pomp. Say he smiles if you hear him sigh. If pale, say he is ruddy. Preach temperance: say he is overgorg'd and drowns his wit In strong drink, though you know that bread and water are all He can afford. Flatter his wife, pity his children, till we can Reduce all to our will, as spaniels are taught with art.' The sun has left his blackness and has found a fresher morning, And the mild moon rejoices in the clear and cloudless night, And Man walks forth from midst of the fires: the evil is all consum'd. His eyes behold the Angelic spheres arising night and day; The stars consum'd like a lamp blown out, and in their stead, behold The expanding eyes of Man behold the depths of wondrous worlds! One Earth, one sea beneath; nor erring globes wander, but stars Of fire rise up nightly from the ocean; and one sun Each morning, like a new born man, issues with songs and joy Calling the Plowman to his labour and the Shepherd to his rest. He walks upon the Eternal Mountains, raising his heavenly voice, Conversing with the animal forms of wisdom night and day, That, risen from the sea of fire, renew'd walk o'er the Earth; For Tharmas brought his flocks upon the hills, and in the vales Around the Eternal Man's bright tent, the little children play Among the woolly flocks. The hammer of Urthona sounds In the deep caves beneath; his limbs renew'd, his Lions roar Around the Furnaces and in evening sport upon the plains. They raise their faces from the earth, conversing with the Man: 'How is it we have walk'd through fires and yet are not consum'd? How is it that all things are chang'd, even as in ancient times?'

[@ishmaelforester9825]

Just one of my favourite moments in Blake, from 'the Four Zoas,' though I think it appears elsewhere. Or this from 'America,' which is basically his version of 'the Declaration of Independence' "The morning comes, the night decays, the watchmen leave their stations; The grave is burst, the spices shed, the linen wrapped up; The bones of death, cov'ring clay, the sinews shrunk & dry'd Reviving shake, inspiring move, breathing, awakening, Spring like redeemed captives when their bonds & bars are burst. Let the slave grinding at the mill run out into the field, Let him look up into the heavens & laugh in the bright air; Let the inchained soul, shut up in darkness and in sighing, Whose face has never seen a smile in thirty weary years, Rise and look out; his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open; And let his wife and children return from the oppressor's scourge; They look behind at every step & believe it is a dream, Singing: "The Sun has left his blackness & has found a fresher morning, And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear & cloudless night; For Empire is no more, and now the Lion & Wolf shall cease." ' In thunders ends the voice. Then Albion's Angel wrathful burnt Beside the Stone of Night, and like the Eternal Lion's howl In famine & war, reply'd: "Art thou not Orc, who serpent-form'd Stands at the gate of Enitharmon to devour her children? Blasphemous Demon, Antichrist, hater of Dignities, Lover of wild rebellion, and transgressor of God's Law, Why dost thou come to Angel's eyes in this terrific form?' The Terror answer'd: "I am Orc, wreath'd round the accursed tree: The times are ended; shadows pass, the morning 'gins to break; The fiery joy, that Urizen perverted to ten commands, What night he led the starry hosts thro' the wide wilderness, That stony law I stamp to dust; and scatter religion abroad To the four winds as a torn book, & none shall gather the leaves; But they shall rot on desart sands, & consume in bottomless deeps, To make the desarts blossom, & the deeps shrink to their fountains, And to renew the fiery joy, and burst the stony roof; That pale religious letchery, seeking Virginity, May find it in a harlot, and in coarse-clad honesty The undefil'd, tho' ravish'd in her cradle night and morn; For everything that lives is holy, life delights in life; Because the soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd. Fires inwrap the earthly globe, yet man is not consum'd; Amidst the lustful fires he walks; his feet become like brass, His knees and thighs like silver, & his breast and head like gold.' At that point nobody compares to him but Shakespeare in terms of English poetry.

[@organenthusiast5803]

@@ishmaelforester9825 Wonderful, thank you for sharing.

[@BW-CC]

The Price of Great Experience is God. You would give all to have it. All

[@lukestefanik606]

🤝🙏🧘‍♂️

[@allthingsfrench1391]

It is written in allegory, just as the Bible which is not secular history, it is the story of man...Salvation History. Salvation (Salvatore) Jesus is Salvation... Jesus is IN You. The body we wear is the cross. Your own wonderful human Imagination is God. The things of the Spirit cannot be understood by the human mind. Blake is telling you the same story that the Bible tells only using England as allegory. Nothing has changed in Ceasars world. People refuse to waken to the Jesus within therefore remain man of earth never rising to their full potential as God itself. Going through the firey furnaces .... the living hell... the rot and decay that this world is until they awaken which takes 6000 years. Albion is God... that is your Imagination. God became man so that man could become God. The Bible is nothing but all the states represented by people ; Moses, Abraham , Adam, Mary... these are all various states that we must all pass through until we reach the Christ State of Conciousness. Truth embodied in a tale enters in at lowly doors. The intellect cannot receive the things of God. For a full understanding of Blake, read the teaching of Neville Goddard.