A Vision of Albion

    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

    Enfold 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.