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A Prophecy

Plate iii

'Five windows light the cavern'd Man: thro' one he breathes the air;

Thro' one hears music of the spheres; thro' one the eternal vine

Flourishes, that he may recieve the grapes; thro' one can look

And see small portions of the eternal world that ever groweth;

Thro' one himself pass out what time he please, but he will not;

For stolen joys are sweet, & bread eaten in secret pleasant.'

So sang a Fairy mocking as he sat on a streak'd Tulip,

Thinking none saw him; when he ceas'd I started from the trees,

And caught him in my hat as boys knock down a butterfly.

'How know you this,' said I, 'small Sir? where did you learn this song?'

Seeing himself in my possession, thus he answer'd me:

'My Master, I am yours; command me, for I must obey.'



'Then tell me what is the material world, and is it dead?'

He laughing answer'd: 'I will write a book on leaves of flowers,

If you will feed me on love-thoughts, & give me now and then

A cup of sparkling poetic fancies. So, when I am tipsie,

I'll sing to you to this soft lute, and shew you all alive

The world, where every particle of dust breathes forth its joy.'



I took him home in my warm bosom. As we went along

Wild flowers I gather'd, & he shew'd me each eternal flower.

He laugh'd aloud to see them whimper because they were pluck'd.

They hover'd round me like a cloud of incence. When I came

Into my parlour and sat down, and took my pen to write,

My Fairy sat upon the table, and dictated 'EUROPE.'



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