And did those feet in ancient times Walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy lamb of God On England's pleasant pasture's scene? And did the countenance divine Shined forth upon our clouded hills And was Jerusalem built here Among those dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold Bring me my arrows of desire Bring me my spear, o clouds unfold Bring me my chariot of fire I will not seize from mental fight Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land