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The New Jerusalem



    The New Jerusalem

    William Blake


    And did those feet in ancient time

    Walk upon England's mountains green?

    And was the holy Lamb of God

    On England's pleasant pastures seen?

    And did the Countenance Divine

    Shine forth upon our clouded hills?

    And was Jerusalem builded here

    Among these dark Satanic Mills?

    Bring me my bow of burning gold!

    Bring me my arrows of desire!

    Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!

    Bring me my charriot of fire!

    I will not cease from mental fight,

    Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand

    Till we have built Jerusalem

    In England's green and pleasant land.


    This poem is one of many published by the EServer, a nonprofit collective.