I see the Four-fold Man, The Humanity in deadly sleep 
 And its fallen Emanation, the Spectre and its cruel Shadow. 
 I see the Past, Present and Future existing all at once 
 Before me. O Divine Spirit, sustain me on thy wings, 
 That I may awake Albion from his long and cold repose; 
 For Bacon and Newton, sheath'd in dismal steel, their terrors hang 
 Like iron scourges over Albion: reasonings like vast serpents 
 Infold around my limbs, bruising my minute articulations. 

 I turn my eyes to the schools and universities of Europe 
 And there behold the Loom of Locke, whose Woof rages dire, 
 Wash'd by the Water-wheels of Newton: black the cloth 
 In heavy wreaths folds over every nation: cruel works 
 Of many Wheels I view, wheel without wheel, with cogs tyrannic 
 Moving by compulsion each other, not as those in Eden, which, 
 Wheel within wheel, in freedom revolve in harmony and peace.