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.