thunders hoarse.
Bromion spoke: 'Behold this harlot here on Bromion's bed, And let the jealous dolphins sport around the lovely maid; Thy soft American plains are mine, and mine thy north & south: Stampt with my signet3 are the swarthy children of the sun: They are obedient, they resist not, they obey the scourge: Their daughters worship terrors and obey the violent.
PLATE 2
Now thou maist marry Bromion's harlot, and protect the child Of Bromion's rage, that Oothoon shall put forth in nine moons' time.'4
3. A small seal or stamp. The allusion is to the 4. Pregnancy enhanced the market value of a branding of black slaves by their owners. female slave in America.
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VISIONS OF THE DAUGHTERS OF ALBION / 105
Then storms rent Theotqrmon's limbs; he rolld his waves around, And folded his black jealous waters round the adulterate pair; 5 Bound back to back in Bromion's caves terror & meekness dwell.
At entrance Theotormon sits wearing the threshold hard With secret tears; beneath him sound like waves on a desart shore The voice of slaves beneath the sun, and children bought with money, That shiver in religious caves beneath the burning fires
10 Of lust, that belch incessant from the summits of the earth.
Oothoon weeps not: she cannot weep! her tears are locked up; But she can howl incessant, writhing her soft snowy limbs, And calling Theotormon's Eagles to prey upon her flesh.5
'I call with holy voice! kings of the sounding air, 15 Rend away this defiled bosom that I may reflect The image of Theotormon on my pure transparent breast.'
The Eagles at her call descend & rend their bleeding prey; Theotormon severely smiles; her soul reflects the smile, As the clear spring mudded with feet of beasts grows pure & smiles.
20 The Daughters of Albion hear her woes, & eccho back her sighs.
'Why does my Theotormon sit weeping upon the threshold, And Oothoon hovers by his side, perswading him in vain? I cry, 'Arise O Theotormon, for the village dog Barks at the breaking day, the nightingale has done lamenting,
25 The lark does rustle in the ripe corn, and the Eagle returns From nightly prey, and lifts his golden beak to the pure east, Shaking the dust from his immortal pinions to awake The sun that sleeps too long. Arise my Theotormon, I am pure; Because the night is gone that clos'd me in its deadly black.'
30 They told me that the night & day were all that I could see; They told me that I had five senses to inclose me up, And they inclos'd my infinite brain into a narrow circle, And sunk my heart into the Abyss, a red round globe hot burning, Till all from life I was obliterated and erased.
35 Instead of morn arises a bright shadow, like an eye In the eastern cloud,6 instead of night a sickly charnel house, That Theotormon hears me not! to him the night and morn Are both alike: a night of sighs, a morning of fresh tears;
PLATE 3
And none but Bromion can hear my lamentations.
'With what sense is it that the chicken shuns the ravenous hawk? With what sense does the tame pigeon measure out the expanse? With what sense does the bee form cells? have not the mouse & frog
5. The implied parallel is to Zeus's punishment of ceived by the constricted ('inclos'd,' line 32) sen- Prometheus for befriending the human race, by sible eye and 'the breaking day' (line 24) of a new setting an eagle to devour his liver. era perceived by Oothoon's liberated vision. 6. The contrast is between the physical sun per
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106 / WILLIAM BLAKE
Eyes and ears and sense of touch? yet are their habitations And their pursuits as different as their forms and as their joys. Ask the wild ass why he refuses burdens, and the meek camel Why he loves man; is it because of eye, ear, mouth, or skin, Or breathing nostrils? No, for these the wolf and tyger have. Ask the blind worm the secrets of the grave, and why her spires Love to curl round the bones of death; and ask the rav'nous snake Where she gets poison, & the wing'd eagle why he loves the sun, And then tell me the thoughts of man, that have been hid of old.7
'Silent I hover all the night, and all day could be silent, If Theotormon once would turn his loved eyes upon me. How can I be defild when I reflect thy image pure? Sweetest the fruit that the worm feeds on, & the soul prey'd on by woe, The new wash'd lamb ting'd with the village smoke, & the bright swan By the red earth of our immortal river:8 I bathe my wings, And I am white and pure to hover round Theotormon's breast.'
Then Theotormon broke his silence, and he answered:
'Tell me what is the night or day to one o'erflowd with woe? Tell me what is a thought? & of what substance is it made? Tell me what is a joy? & in what gardens do joys grow? And in what rivers swim the sorrows? and upon what mountains
PLATE 4
Wave shadows of discontent? and in what houses dwell the wretched Drunken with woe, forgotten, and shut up from cold despair?
'Tell me where dwell the thoughts, forgotten till thou call them forth? Tell me where dwell the joys of old! & where the ancient loves? And when will they renew again & the night of oblivion past? That I might traverse times & spaces far remote and bring Comforts into a present sorrow and a night of pain. Where goest thou, O thought? to what remote land is thy flight? If thou returnest to the present moment of affliction Wilt thou bring comforts on thy wings and dews and honey and balm, Or poison from the desart wilds, from the eyes of the
