1. The voice ended: they saw his pale visage
Emerge from the darkness, his hand
On the rock of Eternity
The Book of brass. Rage seiz'd the strong--
2. Rage, fury, intense indignation,
In cataracts of fire, blood, and gall,
In whirlwinds of sulphurous smoke,
enormous forms of energy,
In living creations appear'd,
In the flames of eternal fury.
3. Sund'ring, dark'ning, thund'ring,
Rent away with a terrible crash,
Eternity roll'd wide apart,
Mountainous, all around
Departing, departing, departing,
Leaving ruinous fragments of life,
frowning cliffs, and, all between,
An Ocean of voidness unfathomable.
4. The roaring fires ran o'er the heav'ns
In whirlwinds and cataracts of blood,
And o'er the dark deserts
Fires pour thro' the void, on all sides,
On Urizen's self-begotten armies.
5. But no light from the fires! all was darkness
In the flames of Eternal fury.
6. In fierce anguish and quenchless flames
To the deserts and rocks he ran raging,
To hide; but he could
He dug mountains and hills in vast strength,
He pilèd them in incessant labour,
and pangs and fierce madness,
Long periods in burning fires labouring;
Till hoary, and age-broke, and
In despair and the shadows of death
7. And a roof vast, petrific, around
On all sides he fram'd, like
Where thousands of rivers, in veins
Of blood, pour down the mountains to cool
The eternal fires,
From Eternals; and like a black Globe,
View'd by sons of Eternity, standing
On the shore of
the infinite ocean,
Like a human heart, struggling and beating,
The vast world of Urizen appear'd.
8. And Los, round the dark globe of Urizen,
Kept watch for Eternals to confine
The obscure separation
For Eternity stood wide apart,
As the stars are apart from the earth,
9. Los wept, howling around the dark Demon,
And cursing his lot; for in anguish
Urizen was rent from his
And a fathomless Void for his feet,
And intense fires for his dwelling.
10. But Urizen, laid in a story sleep,
Unorganiz'd, rent from Eternity.
11. The Eternals said: `What is this? Death?
Urizen is a clod of clay!'
12. Los howl'd in a dismal stupor,
Groaning, gnashing, groaning,
Till the wrenching apart was healèd.
13. But the wrenching of Urizen heal'd not.
Cold, featureless, flesh or clay,
Rifted with direful changes,
lay in a dreamless night,
14. Till Los rous'd his fires, affrighted
At the formless, unmeasurable Death.