William Blake,
America a Prophecy — Preludium
(1793)
“ In vain! these clouds roll to & fro, & hide thee from my sight. Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy, The hairy shoulders rend the links, free are the wrists of fire: Round the terrific loins he siez'd the panting struggling womb: It joy'd: she put asider her clouds & smiled her first-born smile: As when a black cloud shews its lightnings to the silent deep. ”
