New Jerusalem, The

William Blake

	And did those feet in ancient time 
	Walk upon England's mountains green? 
	And was the holy Lamb of God 
	On England's pleasant pastures seen? 
 
	And did the Countenance Divine 
	Shine forth upon our clouded hills? 
	And was Jerusalem builded here 
	Among these 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 charriot of fire! 
 
	I will not cease from mental fight, 
	Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand 
	Till we have built Jerusalem 
	In England's green and pleasant land.

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