But it proves ineffectual against Fuzon's fiery beam:—
* *Laughing, it tore through
That beaten mass; keeping its direction,
The cold loins of Urizen dividing.
Wounded and enraged, Urizen prepares a bow formed of the ribs of a huge serpent—'a circle of darkness'—and strung with its sinews, by which Fuzon is smitten down into seeming death. In the midst of the conflict, Ahania, who is called 'the parted soul of Urizen,' is cast forth:—
She fell down a faint shadow wand'ring
In chaos and circling dark Urizen,
As the moon anguish'd circles the earth;
Hopeless! abhorr'd! a death-shadow
Unseen, unbodied, unknown!
The mother of Pestilence!
Her lamentation, from which we draw our final extract, fills the concluding portion of the poem:—
Ah, Urizen! Love!
Flower of morning! I weep on the verge
Of non-entity: how wide the abyss
Between Ahania and thee!
****
I cannot touch his hand.
Nor weep on his knees, nor hear
His voice and bow; nor see his eyes
And joy; nor hear his footsteps and
My heart leap at the lovely sound!
I cannot kiss the place
Whereon his bright feet have trod.
But I wander on the rocks
With hard necessity.
While intent on the composition and execution of these mystic books, Blake did not neglect the humble task-work which secured him a modest independence. He was at this time busy on certain plates for a book of travels, Captain J. G. Stedman's Narrative of a Five Years Expedition against the Revolted Negroes of Surinam. This work, 'illustrated
