# The Pickering Manuscript/The Mental Traveller

The Mental Traveller
I traveld thro' a Land of Men A Land of Men & Women too And heard & saw such dreadful things As cold Earth wanderers never knew
For there the Babe is born in joy
That was begotten in dire woe Just as we Reap in joy the fruit Which we in bitter tears did Sow
And if the Babe is born a Boy He's given to a Woman Old
Who nails him down upon a rock Catches his Shrieks in Cups of gold
She binds iron thorns around his head She pierces both his hands & feet She cuts his heart out at his side
To make it feel both cold & heat
Her fingers number every Nerve Just as a Miser counts his gold She lives upon his Shrieks & cries
And She grows young as he grows old
​Till he becomes a bleeding youth And She becomes a Virgin bright Then he rends up his Manacles And binds her down for his Delight
He plants himself in all her Nerves
Just as a Husbandman his mould And She becomes his dwelling place And Garden fruitful Seventy fold
An Aged Shadow soon he fades Wandring round an Earthly Cot
Full filled all with gems & gold Which he by industry had got
And these are the gems of the Human Soul The rubies & pearls of a lovesick eye The countless gold of the akeing heart
The martyrs groan & the lovers sigh
They are his meat they are his drink He feeds the Beggar & the Poor And the way faring Traveller For ever open is his door
His grief is their eternal joy They make the roofs & walls to ring Till from the fire on the hearth A little Female Babe does spring
​And she is all of solid fire
And gems & gold that none his hand Dares stretch to touch her Baby form Or wrap her in his swaddling-band
But She comes to the Man she loves If young or old or rich or poor
They soon drive out the aged Host A Begger at anothers door
He wanders weeping far away Untill some other take him in Oft blind & age-bent sore distrest
Untill he can a Maiden win
And to allay his freezing Age The Poor Man takes her in his arms The Cottage fades before his Sight The Garden & its lovely Charms.
The Guests are scatterd thro' the land For the Eye altering alters all The Senses roll themselves in fear And the flat Earth becomes a Ball
The Stars Sun Moon all shrink away
A desart vast without a bound And nothing left to eat or drink
And a dark desart all around
​The honey of her Infant lips The bread & wine of her sweet smile The wild game of her roving Eye Does him to Infancy beguile
For as he eats & drinks he grows Younger & younger every day And on the desart wild they both
Wander in terror & dismay
Like the wild Stag she flees away Her fear plants many a thicket wild While he pursues her night & day By various arts of Love beguild
By various arts of Love & Hate Till the wide desart planted oer With Labyrinths of wayward Love Where roams the Lion Wolf & Boar
Till he becomes a wayward Babe
And she a weeping Woman Old
Then many a Lover wanders here
The Sun & Stars are nearer rolld
The trees bring forth sweet Extacy To all who in the desart roam
Till many a City there is Built
And many a pleasant Shepherds home
​But when they find the frowning Babe Terror strikes thro the region wide They cry the Babe the Babe is Born
And flee away on Every side
For who dare touch the frowning form His arm is witherd to its root Lions Boars Wolves all howling flee And every Tree does shed its fruit
And none can touch that frowning form Except it be a Woman Old She nails him down upon the Rock And all is done as I have told