William Blake,
Vala, or The Four Zoas: Night the Seventh
“ Of Enitharmon how it buds with life & forms the bones The little heart the liver & the red blood in its labyrinths 25 By gratified desire by strong devouring appetite she fills Los with ambitious fury that his race shall all devour Then Orc cried Curse thy Cold hypocrisy. already round thy Tree In scales that shine with gold & rubies thou beginnest to weaken My divided Spirit Like a worm I rise in peace unbound 30 From wrath Now When I rage my fetters bind me more O torment O torment A Worm compelld. Am I a worm Is it in strong deceit that man is born. ”
