A land of men and women too；
And heard and saw such dreadful things
As cold earth-wanderers never knew.
For there the Babe is born in joy
That was begotten1 in dire2 woe3；
Just as we reap in joy the fruit
Which we in bitter tears did sow.
And if the Babe is born a boy
He's given to a Woman Old，
Who nails him down upon a rock，
Catches his shrieks4 in cups of gold.
She binds5 iron thorns around his head，
She pierces both his hands and feet，
She cuts his heart out at his side，
To make it feel both cold and heat.
Her fingers number every nerve，
Just as a miser6 counts his gold；
She lives upon his shrieks and cries，
And she grows young as he grows old.
Till he becomes a bleeding Youth，
And she becomes a Virgin7 bright；
Then he rends8 up his manacles，
And binds her down for his delight.
He plants himself in all her nerves，
Just as a husbandman his mould；
And she becomes his dwelling- place
And garden fruitful seventyfold.
And agd Shadow， soon he fades，
Wandering round an earthly cot，
Full filld all with gems9 and gold
Which he by industry had got.
And these are the gems of the human soul，
The rubies10 and pearls of a love-sick eye，
The countless11 gold of the aching heart，
The martyr's groan12 and the lover's sigh.
They are his meat， they are his drink
He feeds the beggar and the poor
And the wayfaring13 traveller：
For ever open in his door.
His grief is their eternal joy；
They make the roofs and walls to ring；
Till from the fire on the hearth14
A little Female Babe does spring.
And she is all of solid fire
And gems and gold， that none his hand
Dares stretch to touch her baby form，
Or wrap her in his swaddling-band.
But she comes to the man she loves，
If young or old， or rich or poor；
They soon drive out the Agd Host，
A beggar at another's door.
He wanders weeping far away，
Until some other take him in；
Oft blind and age-bent， sore distrest，
Until he can a Maiden15 win.
And to allay16 his freezing age，
The poor man takes her in his arms；
The cottage fades before his sight，
The garden and its lovely charms.
The guests are scatter'd thro' the land，
For the eye altering alters all；
The senses roll themselves in fear，
And the flat earth becomes a ball；
The stars， sun， moon， all shrink away
A desert vast without a bound，
And nothing left to eat or drink，
And a dark desert all around.
The honey of her infant lips，
The bread and wine of her sweet smile，
The wild game of her roving eye，
Does him to infancy17 beguile18；
For as he eats and drinks he grows
Younger and younger every day；
And on the desert wild they both
Wander in terror and dismay.
