V) To William

He saw visions of angels,
Angels and devils
In the forests of the night.
He brought fire to the alters
And light to the smoke city.
He shouted from the pinnacles of the sun
Renouncing seventeen hundred years of deception,
And laid the foundations
Of Jerusalem
In our green and pleasant land.
 
Now forgotten
Or misunderstood,
His revolution
Has become a children's rhyme
And mumblers song.
His dreams are faded cracked paper,
His words are just
A little girl lost,
Lying in bed
With the black worm
And the sick rose.
 
He saw visions of angels
And sang with devils and demons.
He showed us gods and monsters,
Heaven and hell.
And we forsook him
For nightingales and daffodils,
Mists and mellow fruitfulness,
and weary plodding ploughmen.
 
He saw visions of angels;
And we remain blind.