Poem William Blake

For a Picture of the Last Judgement

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Egremont’s Countess can controll
The flames of Hell that round me roll;
If she refuse, I still go on
Till the Heavens & Earth are gone,
Still admir’d by Noble minds,
Follow’d by Envy on the winds,
Re-engrav’d Time after Time,
Ever in their Youthful prime.
My Designs unchang’d remain.
Time may rage, but rage in vain.
For above Time’s troubled Fountains,
On the Great Atlantic Mountains,
In my Golden House on high,
There they shine Eternally.

Mark The Concentrated Hazels
You and your whole race

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