I see the Four-fold Man, The Humanity in deadly sleep 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 repose For Bacon and Newton, sheath'd in dismal steel, their terrors hang Like iron scourges over Albion: reasonings like vast serpents Infold around my limbs, bruising my minute articulations I turn my eyes to the schools and universities of Europe And there behold the Loom of Locke, whose Woof rages dire 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 revolve in harmony and peace