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.

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.

Colophon

This archival text follows the English Wikisource page The_Gates_of_Paradise, rendered or exported on June 2, 2026. The underlying text is William Blake's public-domain work; the Wikisource transcription layer is preserved here as an archival public source witness.

Source URL: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Gates_of_Paradise

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