For the Sexes: The Gates of Paradise

by William Blake

The Gates of Paradise

Mutual Forgiveness of each Vice,
Such are the Gates of Paradise.
Against the Accuser’s chief desire
Who walkd among the Stones of Fire
Jehovah’s Finger Wrote the Law,
They Wept, then rose in Zeal & Awe
And the Dead Corpse from Sinai’s heat
Buried beneath his Mercy Seat.
O Christians, Christians, tell me Why
You rear it on your Altars high.

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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 Worship’d by the Names Divine
Of Jesus & Jehovah, thou art still
The Son of Morn in weary Night’s decline,
The lost Traveller’s Dream under the Hill.

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