Psalm IV

Now I'll record my secret vision, impossible sight of the face of God:

It was no dream, I lay broad waking on a fabulous couch in Harlem

having masturbated for no love, and read half naked an open book of Blake

       on my lap

Lo & behold! I was thoughtless and turned a page and gazed on the living

       Sun-flower

and heard a voice, it was Blake's, reciting in earthen measure:

the voice rose out of the page to my secret ear never heard before-

I lifted my eyes to the window, red walls of buildings flashed outside,

       endless sky sad Eternity

sunlight gazing on the world, apartments of Harlem standing in the

       universe—

each brick and cornice stained with intelligence like a vast living face—

the great brain unfolding and brooding in wilderness!—Now speaking

       aloud with Blake's voice—

Love! thou patient presence & bone of the body! Father! thy careful

       watching and waiting over my soul!

My son! My son! the endless ages have remembered me! My son! My son!

       Time howled in anguish in my ear!

My son! My son! my father wept and held me in his dead arms.