FOR THE SEXES THE GATES of PARADISE
[Prologue]
Mutual Forgiveness of each Vice
Such are the Gates of Paradise
Against the Accusers chief desire
Who walkd among the Stones of Fire
Jehovahs Finger Wrote the Law
Then Wept! then rose in Zeal & Awe
And the Dead Corpse from Sinais heat
Buried beneath his Mercy Seat
O Christians Christians! tell me Why
You rear it on your Altars high
Frontispiece
[PLATE]
What is Man!
The Suns Light when he unfolds it
Depends on the Organ that beholds it.
[PLATES 1–16]
The Keys of the Gates
The Catterpiller on the Leaf
Reminds thee of thy Mothers Grief
My Eternal Man set in Repose
The Female from his darkness rose
And She found me beneath a Tree
A Mandrake & in her Veil hid me
Serpent Reasonings us entice
Of Good & Evil: Virtue & Vice
Doubt Self Jealous Watry folly
Struggling thro Earths Melancholy
Naked in Air in Shame & Fear
Blind in Fire with shield & spear
Two Horn'd Reasoning Cloven Fiction
In Doubt which is Self contradiction
A dark Hermaphrodite We stood
Rational Truth Root of Evil & Good
Round me flew the Flaming Sword
Round her snowy Whirlwinds roard
Freezing her Veil the Mundane Shell
I rent the Veil where the Dead dwell
When weary Man enters his Cave
He meets his Saviour in the Grave
Some find a Female Garment there
And some a Male, woven with care
Lest the Sexual Garments sweet
Should grow a devouring Winding sheet
One Dies! Alas! the Living & Dead
One is slain & One is fled
In Vain-glory hatcht & nurst
By double Spectres Self Accurst
My Son! my Son! thou treatest me
But as I have instructed thee
On the shadows of the Moon
Climbing thro Nights highest noon
In Times Ocean falling drownd
In Aged Ignorance profound
Holy & cold I clipd the Wings
Of all Sublunary Things
And in depths of my Dungeons
Closed the Father & the Sons
But when once I did descry
The Immortal Man that cannot Die
Thro evening shades I haste away
To close the Labours of my Day
The Door of Death I open found
And the Worm Weaving in the Ground
Thou'rt my Mother from the Womb
Wife, Sister, Daughter to the Tomb
Weaving to Dreams the Sexual strife
And weeping over the Web of Life
[Epilogue] To The Accuser who is The God of This World
Truly My Satan thou art but a Dunce
And dost not know the Garment from the Man
Every Harlot was a Virgin once
Nor canst thou ever change Kate into Nan
Tho thou art Worshipd by the Names Divine
Of Jesus & Jehovah: thou art still
The Son of Morn in weary Nights decline
The lost Travellers Dream under the Hill