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And did those feet in ancient time walk upon England's mountains green |
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and was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastures seen |
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and did the countenance divine shine forth upon our clouded hills |
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and was Jerusalem builded here among those dark satanic mills |
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Bring me my bow of burning gold, bring me my arrows of desire |
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Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold, bring me my chariot of fire |
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I will not cease from mental fight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand |
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'til we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land |