(William Blake)






To the Accuser Who Is the God of This World


Truly, my Satan, thou art but a Dunce,
And dost not know the Garment of the Man.
Every Harlot was a Virgin once,
Nor canst thou ever change Kate into Nan.

Tho thou art Worshipd by the Names Divine
Of Jesus and Jehovah, thou are still
The Son of Morn in weary Nights decline,
The lost Travellers Dream under the Hill.






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