A Vision of Albion

    And its fallen Emanation， the Spectre and its cruel Shadow.

    I see the Past， Present， and Future existing all at once

    Before me. O Divine Spirit！ sustain me on thy wings，

    That I may awake Albion from his long and cold repose¹；

    For Bacon and Newton， sheath'd in dismal² steel， their terrors hang

    Like iron scourges³ over Albion. Reasonings like vast Serpents

    Enfold around my limbs， bruising⁴ my minute articulations.

    I turn my eyes to the Schools and Universities of Europe，

    And there behold⁵ the Loom⁶ of Locke， whose Woof rages dire⁷，

    Wash'd by the Water-wheels of Newton： black the cloth

    In heavy wreaths folds over every Nation： cruel Works

    Of many Wheels I view， wheel without wheel， with cogs tyrannic，

    Moving by compulsion each other； not as those in Eden， which，

    Wheel within wheel， in freedom revolve⁸， in harmony and peace.