This is a difficult poem to analyze but according to Hirsch, Jr., E. D., "The poem is about travelling in the realm of the mind. Blake gener...
This is a difficult poem to analyze but according to Hirsch, Jr., E. D., "The poem is about travelling in the realm of the mind. Blake generalizes here "about the spiritual history of mankind out the experience of his own spiritual history."nI TRAVELL’D thro’ a land of men, nA land of men and women too; nAnd heard and saw such dreadful things nAs cold earth-wanderers never knew. n nFor there the Babe is born in joy 5nThat was begotten in dire woe; nJust as we reap in joy the fruit nWhich we in bitter tears did sow. n nAnd if the Babe is born a boy nHe’s given to a Woman Old, 10nWho nails him down upon a rock, nCatches his shrieks in cups of gold. n nShe binds iron thorns around his head, nShe pierces both his hands and feet, nShe cuts his heart out at his side, 15nTo make it feel both cold and heat. n nHer fingers number every nerve, nJust as a miser counts his gold; nShe lives upon his shrieks and cries, nAnd she grows young as he grows old. 20n nTill he becomes a bleeding Youth, nAnd she becomes a Virgin bright; nThen he rends up his manacles, nAnd binds her down for his delight. n nHe plants himself in all her nerves, 25nJust as a husbandman his mould; nAnd she becomes his dwelling-place nAnd garden fruitful seventyfold. n nAnd agèd Shadow, soon he fades, nWandering round an earthly cot, 30nFull fillèd all with gems and gold nWhich he by industry had got. n nAnd these 1 are the gems of the human soul, nThe rubies and pearls of a love-sick eye, nThe countless gold of the aching heart, 35nThe martyr’s groan and the lover’s sigh. n nThey are his meat, they are his drink; nHe feeds the beggar and the poor nAnd the wayfaring traveller: nFor ever open is his door. 40n nHis grief is their eternal joy; nThey make the roofs and walls to ring; nTill from the fire on the hearth nA little Female Babe does spring. n nAnd she is all of solid fire 45nAnd gems and gold, that none his hand nDares stretch to touch her baby form, nOr wrap her in his swaddling-band. n nBut she comes to the man she loves, nIf young or old, or rich or poor; 50nThey soon drive out the Agèd Host, nA beggar at another’s door. n nHe wanders weeping far away, nUntil some other take him in; nOft blind and age-bent, sore distrest, 55nUntil he can a Maiden win. n nAnd to allay his freezing age, nThe poor man takes her in his arms; nThe cottage fades before his sight, nThe garden and its lovely charms. 60n nThe guests are scatter’d thro’ the land, nFor the eye altering alters all; nThe senses roll themselves in fear, nAnd the flat earth becomes a ball; n nThe stars, sun, moon, all shrink away, 65nA desert vast without a bound, nAnd nothing left to eat or drink, nAnd a dark desert all around. n nThe honey of her infant lips, nThe bread and wine of her sweet smile, 70nThe wild game of her roving eye, nDoes him to infancy beguile; n nFor as he eats and drinks he grows nYounger and younger every day; nAnd on the desert wild they both 75nWander in terror and dismay. n nLike the wild stag she flees away, nHer fear plants many a thicket wild; nWhile he pursues her night and day, nBy various arts of love beguil’d; 80n nBy various arts of love and hate, nTill the wide desert planted o’er nWith labyrinths of wayward love, nWhere roam the lion, wolf, and boar. n nTill he becomes a wayward Babe, 85nAnd she a weeping Woman Old. nThen many a lover wanders here; nThe sun and stars are nearer roll’d; n nThe trees bring forth sweet ecstasy nTo all who in the desert roam; 90nTill many a city there is built, nAnd many a pleasant shepherd’s home. n nBut when they find the Frowning Babe, nTerror strikes thro’ the region wide: nThey cry ‘The Babe! the Babe is born!’ 95nAnd flee away on every side. n nFor who dare touch the Frowning Form, nHis arm is wither’d to its root; nLions, boars, wolves, all howling flee, nAnd every tree does shed its fruit. 100n nAnd none can touch that Frowning Form, nExcept it be a Woman Old; nShe nails him down upon the rock, nAnd all is done as I have told. Less
