1. The Globe shook， and Urizen， seated

    On black clouds， his sore wound anointed；

    The ointment¹ flow'd down on the Void

    Mix'd with blood —— here the snake gets her poison！

    2. With difficulty and great pain Urizen

    Lifted on high the dead corse：

    On his shoulders he bore it to where

    A Tree hung over the Immensity.

    3. For when Urizen shrunk away

    From Eternals， he sat on a Rock，

    Barren —— a Rock which himself，

    From redounding² fancies， had petrifièd.

    Many tears fell on the Rock，

    Many sparks of vegetation.

    Soon shot the painèd root

    Of Mystery under his heel：

    It grew a thick tree： he wrote

    In silence his Book of Iron；

    Till the horrid³ plant bending its boughs⁴，

    Grew to roots when it felt the earth，

    And again sprung to many a tree，

    4. Amaz'd started Urizen when

    He beheld⁵ himself compassèd round

    And high-roofed over with trees.

    He arose， but the stems stood so thick，

    He with difficulty and great pain

    Brought his Books —— all but the Book

    Of Iron —— from the dismal⁶ shade.

    5. The Tree still grows over the Void，

    Enrooting itself all around，

    An endless labyrinth⁷ of woe⁸！

    6. The corse of his first begotten⁹

    On the accursèd Tree of Mystery，

    On the topmost stem of this Tree

    Urizen nail'd Fuzon's corse.

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