 Jerusalem, by William Blake, read for LibriVox.org by Anna Roberts. And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastor's scene? And did the countenance, divine, shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem build here among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold? Bring me my arrows of desire? Bring me my spear? O clouds unfold? Bring me my chariot of fire? I will not cease from mental fight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. Jerusalem, by William Blake, read for LibriVox.org by Craig Campbell in Appleton, Wisconsin. And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastor's scene? And did the countenance, divine, shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem build here among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold? Bring me my arrows of desire? Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold? Bring me my chariot of fire? I will not cease from mental flight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. Jerusalem, by William Blake, read for LibriVox.org by CalmDragon.net. And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastor's scene? And did the countenance, divine, shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem build here among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold? Bring me my arrows of desire? Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold? Bring me my chariot of fire? I will not cease from mental flight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. Jerusalem, by William Blake, read for LibriVox.org by David Lawrence. And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastor's scene? And did the countenance, divine, shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem build here among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold? Bring me my arrows of desire? Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold? Bring me my chariot of fire? I will not cease from mental flight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. In New Poem. This recording is in the public domain. Jerusalem, by William Blake, read for LibriVox.org by Hannah Dowell. And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastor's scene? And did the countenance, divine, shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem build here among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold? Bring me my arrows of desire? Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold? Bring me my chariot of fire? I will not cease from mental flight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. Jerusalem, by William Blake, read for LibriVox.org by Evan Barnes. And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastor's scene? And did the countenance, divine, shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem build here among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold? Bring me my arrows of desire? Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold? Bring me my chariot of fire? I will not cease from mental flight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. Jerusalem, by William Blake, read for LibriVox.org by Rachel Linton, Bristol, UK. And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastor's scene? And did the countenance, divine, shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem build here among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold? Bring me my arrows of desire? Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold? Bring me my chariot of fire? I will not cease from mental flight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. Jerusalem, by William Blake, read for LibriVox.org by Secrets. And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastor's scene? And did the countenance, divine, shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem build here among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold? Bring me my arrows of desire? Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold? Bring me my chariot of fire? I will not cease from mental flight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. Jerusalem, by William Blake, read for LibriVox.org by Trisha G. And did those feet, in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God on England's pleasant pastor's scene? And did the countenance, divine, shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem build here among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold? Bring me my arrows of desire? Bring me my spear, O clouds unfold? Bring me my chariot of fire? I will not cease from mental flight, nor shall my sword sleep in my hand till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain.