Tell me what is the night or day to one o’erflowed with woe?
Tell me what is a thought? & of what substance is it made?
Tell me what is a joy? & in what gardens do joys grow?
And in what rivers swim the sorrows? and upon what mountains?
Tell me where dwell the thoughts, forgotten till thou call them forth?
Tell me where dwell the joys of old! & where the ancient loves?
And when will they renew again & the night of oblivion past?
That I might traverse times & spaces far remote and bring
Comforts into a present sorrow and pain.
William Blake ~ Visions of the Daughters of Albion
“Albion was dying. However, the women agreed to violate their own precepts in order to save their people. They prayed the Great Good would understand and forgive.”
The Book of Rhino