Solemn heave the Atlantic waves between the gloomy nations, Swelling, belching from its deeps red clouds and raging fires. Albion is sick! America faints! enrag'd the Zenith grew. As human blood shooting its veins all round the orbed heaven, Red rose the clouds from the Atlantic in vast wheels of blood, And in the red clouds rose a Wonder o'er the Atlantic sea, Intense! naked! a Human fire, fierce glowing as the wedge Of iron heated in the furnace: his terrible limbs were fire With myriads of cloudy terrors, banners dark and towers Surrounded: heat but not light went thro' the murky atmosphere. The King of England looking westward trembles at the vision.
Three Songs from Blakeâs "America"
Song Cycle by Colin Eatock (b. 1958)
1. Solemn heave the Atlantic waves between the gloomy nations  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), written 1793, appears in America: a Prophecy
Go to the single-text view
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. Sound! sound! my loud war‑trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen Angels!  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
"Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen Angels! "Loud howls the eternal Wolf! the eternal Lion lashes his tail! "America is darken'd and my punishing demons terrified, "Crouch howling before their caverns deep, like skins dry'd in the wind. "They cannot smite the wheat, nor quench the fatness of the earth; "They cannot smite with sorrows nor subdue the plough and spade; "They cannot wall the city, nor moat round the castle of princes; "They cannot bring the stubbed oak to overgrow the hills; "Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen Angels! "Loud howls the eternal Wolf! the eternal Lion lashes his tail! "For terrible men stand on the shores, and in their robes I see "Children take shelter from the lightnings: there stands Washington "And Paine and Warren with their foreheads rear'd toward the east. "Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen Angels! "Loud howls the eternal Wolf! the eternal Lion lashes his tail!" Thus wept the Angel voice, and as he wept, the terrible blasts Of trumpets blew a loud alarm across the Atlantic deep.
Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), written 1793, appears in America: a Prophecy
Go to the single-text view
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]3. The morning comes, the night decays, the watchmen leave their stations  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
The morning comes, the night decays, the watchmen leave their stations; The grave is burst, the spices shed, the linen wrapped up; The bones of death, the cov'ring clay, the sinews shrunk & dry'd. Reviving shake, inspiring move, breathing! awakening! Spring like redeemed captives when their bonds & bars are burst; Let the slave grinding at the mill, run out into the field: Let him look up into the heavens & laugh in the bright air; Let the inchained soul shut up in darkness and in sighing, Whose face has never seen a smile in thirty weary years; Rise and look out, his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open. And let his wife and children return from the opressors scourge; They look behind at every step & believe it is a dream. Singing. The Sun has left his blackness, & has found a fresher morning And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear & cloudless night; For Empire is no more, and now the Lion & Wolf shall cease.
Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), no title, appears in America: a Prophecy, in A Prophecy, lines 37-51
See other settings of this text.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]Total word count: 467