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PARADISE LOST 
 
 See book 1 |vigt CXL 
 
T H K 
 
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 See bookl page-XXm 
 
 KEW-YORK. CHARLES WELl.S , 
 36 Gold Stieiu 
 
^1 
 
 MILTON'S 
 
 POETICAL WORKS, 
 
 CONSISTING OF PARADISE LOST, PARADISE 
 REGAINED, MASK OF COMUS, SAMSON 
 AGONISTES, AND POEMS ON SE- 
 VERAL OCCASIONS, 
 &c. &c. 
 
 TOGETHER WITH 
 THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, 
 
 COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 PUBLISHED BY CHARLES WELLS, 
 
^^'$^ 
 
 Transfer 
 ■nglrieers School Ultfu 
 
 June 29, x»3i 
 
 PiEBcy & Reed, Printers, 9, Spruce-st., N. Y. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 OF 
 PARADISE LOST, 
 
 LiFF OF Milton, 5 
 
 The Verse, 11 
 
 Book I 15 
 
 Book II, '. 39 
 
 Book III, ^ 69 
 
 Book IV, 91 
 
 Book V, 121 
 
 Book VI, 147 
 
 Book VII, 173 
 
 Book VIII, 193 
 
 Book IX, 213 
 
 Book X, 247 
 
 Book XI, 279 
 
 Book XII, 805 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OP 
 
 JOHN MILTON. 
 
 From a family and town of his name in Oxfordshire, our au- 
 thor derived his descent : but he was born at London, in the year 
 1608. His father, John Milton, by profession a scrivener, lived 
 in a reputable manner on a competent estate, entirely his own 
 acquisition, havjig been early disinherited by his parents for re- 
 nouncing the communion of the church of Rome, to which they 
 were zealously devoted. 
 
 Our author was the favourite of his father's hopes, who, to cul- 
 tivate the great genius which early displayed itseltj was at the 
 expense of a domestic tutor, whose care and capacity his pupil 
 hath gratefully celebrated in an excellent Latin elegy. At his 
 initiation he is said to have applied himself to letters with such 
 indefatigable industry, that he rarely was prevailed upon to quit 
 his studies before midnight; which not only made him frequently 
 subject to severe pains in his head, but likewise occasioned that 
 weakness in his eyes, which terminated in a total privation of sight. 
 From a domestic education he was removed to St. Paul's school, 
 to complete his acquaintance with the classics, under the care o 
 Dr. Gill ; and, after a short stay there, was transplanted to 
 Christ's College, in Cambridge, where he distinguished himself in 
 all kinds of academical exercises. Of this society he continued a 
 member till he commenced master of arts ; and then, leaving tho 
 university, he returned to his father, who had quitted the town, 
 and lived at Horton, in Buckinghamshire, where he pursued liis 
 studies with unparalleled assiduity and success. 
 
 After some years spent in this studious retirement, his mother 
 died, and then he prevailed with his father to gratify an inclinr.tion 
 1* 
 
THE LIFE OF 
 
 he had long entertained of seeing foreign countries. Sir Henry 
 Wotton, at that time provost of Eton College, gave him a letter of 
 advice for the direction of his travels. Having employed his cu- 
 riosity about two years in France and Italy, on the news of a civil 
 war breaking out in England, he returned, without taking a sur- 
 vey of Greece and Sicily, as at his setting out the scheme was pro- 
 jected. At Paris the lord viscount Scudamore, ambassador from 
 king Charles I, at the court of France, introduced him to the ac- 
 quaintance of Grotius, who at that time was honoured with the 
 same character there by Christiana, queen of Sweden. In Rome, 
 Genoa, Florence, and other cities of Italy, he contracted a fami- 
 liarity with those who were of highest reputation for wit and 
 learning, several of whom gave him very obhging testimonies of 
 their friendship and esteem. 
 
 Returning from his travels, he found England on the point of 
 being involved in blood and confusion. He retired to lodgings 
 provided for him in the cit}' ; which being commodious for the re- 
 ception of his sister's sons, and some other young gentlemen, he 
 undertook their education. 
 
 In this philosophical course he continued, without a wife till 
 the year 1643, when he married Mary, the daughter of Richard 
 Powell, of Forest-Hill in Oxfordshire, a gentleman of estate and 
 reputation in that county, and of principles so very opposite to his 
 son-in-law, that the marriage is more to be wondered at than the 
 separation which ensued, in little more than a month after she 
 had cohabited with him in London. Her desertion provoked hira 
 both to write several treatises concerning the doctrine and disci- 
 pline of divorce, and also to pay his addresses to a young lady of 
 great wit and beauty ; but, before he had engaged her affections 
 to conclude the marriage treaty, in a visit at one of his relations, 
 he found his wife prostrate before him, imploring forgiveness and 
 seconciUation. It is not to be doubted but an interview of that na- 
 ture, so little expected, must wonderfully affect .him ; and perhaps 
 the impressions it made on his imagination, contributed much to 
 the painting of that pathetic scene in Paradise Lost* in which 
 Eve addresseth herself to Adam for pardon and peace. At the rn- 
 lercession of his friends who were present, after a short reluctance, 
 he generously sacrificed all his resentment to her tears : 
 
 soon his heart relented 
 
 Towards her, his life so late and sole delight 
 Now at his feet submissive in distress. 
 
 And after this reunion, so far was he from retaining any unkind 
 memory of the provocations which he had received from her ill 
 conduct, that when the king's cause was entirely suppressed, and 
 her father, who had been active in his loyalty, was exposed to sc- 
 
 * Book X, page 171. 
 
THE LIFE OP 7 
 
 questration, Milton received both him and his family to protection, 
 and free entertainment, in his own house, till their affairs were ac- 
 commodated by his interest in the victorious faction. 
 
 A commission to constitute him adjutant general to sir William 
 Waller was promised, but soon superceded, by Waller's being laid 
 aside, when his masters thought it proper to new model their army. 
 However, the keenness of his pen had so effectually recommended 
 im to Cromwell's esteem, that, when he took the reins of gov- 
 rnment into his own hand, he advanced him to be Latin sec- 
 retary, both to himself and the parliament ; the former of these 
 preferments he enjoyed both under the usurper and his son, the 
 other until king Charles II was restored. For some time he had 
 an apartment for his family at Whitehall : but his health requir- 
 ing a freer accession of air, he was obliged to remove from thence 
 to lodgings which opened into St. James' Park. Not long after his 
 settlement there, his wife died in childbed ; and much about the 
 time of her death, a guttaserena, which had for several years been 
 gradually increasing, totally extinguished his sight. In this mel- 
 ancholy condition, he was easily prevailed with to think of taking 
 another wife, who was Catharine, the daughter of captain Wood- 
 cock, of Hackney ; and she too, in less than a year after their mar- 
 riage, died in the same unfortunate manner as the former had 
 done ; and in his twenty-third sonnet he does honour to her 
 memory. 
 
 Being a second time a widower, he employed his friend Dr. 
 Paget to make choice of a third consort, on whose recommendation 
 he married Elizabeth, the daughter of Mr. Minshul, a Cheshire 
 gentleman, by whom he had no issue. Three daughters, by his 
 first wife, were then living ; the two elder of whom are said to have 
 been very serviceable to him in his studies ; for having been in- 
 structed to pronounce not only the modern, but also the Latin, 
 Greek, and Hebrew languages, they read in their respective origi 
 nals, whatever authors he wanted to consult, though they under- 
 stood none but their mother tongue. 
 
 We come now to take a survey of him in that point of view, in 
 which he will be looked upon by all succeeding ages with equal 
 delight and admiration. An interval of about twenty years had 
 elapsed since he wrote the Mask of Gomus, L' Allegro, II Pense 
 roso, and Lycidas, all in such an exquisite strain, that though he 
 had left no other monuments of his genius behind him, his name 
 had been immortal ; but neither the infirmities of age and constitu- 
 tion, nor the vicissitudes of fortune, could depress the vigour of his 
 mind, or divert it from executing a design he had long conceived of 
 writing an heroic poem.* The fall of man was a subject that he 
 had some years before fixed on for a tragedy, which he intended to 
 form by the models of antiquity ; and some, not without probability 
 say, the play opened with that speech in the fourth book of Para- 
 
 ♦ Paradise Lost, Book IX, pao;e 213. 
 
8 JOHN MILTOT^. 
 
 dise Lost, 1. 33, which is addressed by satan to the sun. Were it 
 material, I believe I could produce other passages, which more 
 plainly appear to have been originally intended for the scene : but 
 whatever truth there may be in this report, it is certain, that 
 he did not begin to mould his subject, m the form which it bears 
 now, before he had concluded his controversy \^ith Salmasius, and 
 More, when he had wholly lost the use of his eyes, and was forced 
 to employ, in the office of an amanuensis, any friend who acciden- 
 tally paid him a visit. Yet under all these discouragements, and 
 various interruptions, in the year 1669, he_ published his Paradise 
 Lost, the noblest poem (next to those of Homer and Virgil) that 
 ever the wit of man produced in any age or nation. Need I men- 
 tion any other evidence of its inestimable worth, than that the 
 finest geniuses who have succeeded him, have ever esteemed it a 
 merit, to relish and illustrate its beauties'] 
 
 And now, perhaps, it may pass for a fiction, what witn great 
 veracity I affirm to be fact, that Milton, after -having with much 
 difficulty prevailed to have this divine poem licensed for the press, 
 could sell the copy for no more than fifteen pounds: the payment 
 of which valuable consideration depended upon the sa e ot tiiree 
 numerous impressions. So unreasonably may personal prejudice 
 affect the most excellent performances ! . ^ i . 
 
 About two Years after, he published Paradise Regained: but 
 
 Oh, what a failing of ims there ! of which I will say no move, 
 
 than that there is scarcely a more remarkable instance ot the trail- 
 ty of human reason than our author gave, in preterring this poem 
 to Paradise Lost. , . 
 
 And thus ha\-ing attended ham to the sixty-sixth year of his age, 
 as closely as such imperfect lights as men of letters and returement 
 usually leave to guide our inquiry would allow, it now only remains 
 to be recorded, that, in the year 1674, the gout put a period to his 
 life at Bunhill, near London ; from whence his body was conveyed 
 to St. Giles' church, by Cripplegate, where it lies interred m the 
 chancel, and a neat monument has lately been erected to perpetuate 
 
 his memory. , i i ^t 
 
 In his youth he is said to have been extremely handsome ; the 
 colour of his hair was a fight brown, the symmetry of his teatures 
 exact, enlivened with an agreeable air, and a bcautitul mixture ot 
 fair and ruddy. His stature, (as we find it measured by _ himself) 
 did not exceed the middle size, neither too lean nor corpuient; his 
 limbs well proportioned, nervous and acUvc, serviceable in all ro 
 spects to his exercising the sword, in which he much delighted 
 and wanted neither skill nor courage to resent an affront from men 
 of the most athletic constitutions. In his diet he was abstemious ; 
 not delicate in the choice of his dishes ; and strong liquors ot all 
 kinds were his aversion. His deportment was erect, open, atlable ; 
 his conversation easy, cheerful, instructive ; his wit on all occasions 
 at command, facetious, grave, or satirical, as the subject required. 
 His judgment, when disengaged from religious and politica specu- 
 lations, was just and penetrating, his apprehension quick, lus me- 
 
THE LIFE OF, &C. 9 
 
 mory tenacious of what he read, his reading only not so extensive 
 as his genius, for that was universal. And having treasured up 
 such immense store of science, perhaps the faculties of his soul 
 jjrew more vigorous after he was deprived of sight : and his imagi- 
 /5ation, (naturally sublime and enlarged by reading romances, of 
 which he was much enamoured in his youth,) when it was wholly 
 abstracted from material objects, was more at liberty to make sue 
 amazing excursions into the ideal world, when in composing h* 
 divine work he was tempted to range, 
 
 Beyond the visible diurnal sphere. 
 
 "With so many accomplishments, not to have had some faults and 
 misfortunes to be laid in the balance, with the fame and felicity of 
 writing Paradise Lostf would have been too great a portion for 
 humanity. 
 
 ELIJAH FENTON. 
 
THE VERSE 
 
 The measure is English heroic verse without rhyme, as that oi 
 Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin ; rhj^me being no neces- 
 sary adjunct or true ornament of poem or good verse, in longer 
 works especially, but the invention of a barbarous age, to set oft 
 wretched matter, and lame metre ; graced, indeed, since, by the use 
 of some famous modern poets, carried away by custom, but much to 
 their own vexation, hinderance, and constraint, to express many 
 tilings otherwise, and for the most part worse than else they would 
 have expressed them. Not without cause, therefore, some, both 
 Italian and Spanish poets, of prime note, have rejected rhyme, both 
 in longer and shorter works, as have also long since our best En- 
 glish tragedies, as a thing of itself, to all judicious ears, trivial and 
 of no true musical delight ; which consists only in apt numbers, St 
 quantity of syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one 
 verse into another, not in the jingling sound of like endings, a fault 
 avoided by the learned ancients, both in poetry and all good oratory. 
 This neglect then of rhyme so httle is to be taken for a defect, 
 though it may seem so perhaps to vulgar readers, that it is rather 
 to be esteemed an example set, the first in English, of ancient liberty 
 recovered to heroic poem, from the troublesome and modem bondage 
 of rhyming. 
 
THE 
 
 FIRST BOOK 
 
 OP 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Tins first book proposes, first in brief, the whole subject, Man's 
 disobedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise wherein he waa 
 placed : Then touches the prime cause of his fall, the Serpent, 
 or rather Satan in the serpent ; who revolting from God, and 
 drawing to his side many legions of Angels, was by the com- 
 mand of God driven out of Heaven with all his crew into the 
 great deep. Which action passed, over, the poem hastens into 
 the midst of things, presentmg Satan with his angels now fall- 
 ing into Hell described here, not in the centre (for Heaven and 
 Earth may be supposed as yet not made, certainly not yet ac- 
 cursed,) but in a place of utter darkness, fitliest called Chaos : 
 Here Satan with his Angels lying on the burning lake, thun- 
 derstruck and astonished, after a certain space recovers, as from 
 confusion, calls up him who next in order and dignity lay by 
 him ; they confer of their miserable fall, Satan awakens all his 
 legions, who lay till then in the same manner confoundcil. They 
 rise, their numbers, array of battle, their chief leaders named, 
 according to the idols known afterwards in Canaan and the 
 countries adjoining. To these Satan directs his speech, comforts 
 them with hope yet of regaining Heaven, but tells them lastly of 
 a new world and new kind of creature to be created, according 
 to an ancient prophecy, or report in Heaven ; for that Angels 
 were long before this visible creation, was the opinion of many 
 Ancient Fathers. To find out the truth of this prophecy, and 
 what to determine thereon, he refers to a full council. What his 
 associates thence attempt. Pandemonium, the palace of Satan 
 rises, suddenly built out of the deep : The infernal peers thert 
 sit in council. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
 Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
 Brought death into the world, and all our wo, 
 With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
 Restore us, and regain the blissful seat. 
 Sing, heav'nly Muse, that on th*^ sacred top 
 Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 
 That Shepherd,=^ who first taught the chosen seedy 
 In the beginning, how the heav'ns and earth 
 Rose out of chaos : or if Sion hill 
 Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flow*d 
 Fast by the oracle of God ; I thence 
 Invoke thy aid to my advent'rous song, 
 That with no middle flight intends to soar 
 Above th' Aonian mount, while it pursues 
 Things unattempted yet, in prose or rhyme. 
 And chiefly Thou, Spirit, that dost prefer 
 Before all temples th' upright heart and pure, 
 Instruct me, for thou know'st ; Thou from the first 
 Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread, 
 Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss, 
 And mad'st it pregnant : what in me is dark, 
 Illumine ; what is low raise and support ; 
 That to the height of this great argument 
 
 * " That Shepherd," Moses, who kept the flock of Jethrp* 
 
16 PARADISE LOST^ [bOOK 1. 
 
 I may assert eternal providence, 
 And justify the ways of God to men* 
 
 Say first, for heav'n hides nothing from thy view, 
 Nor the deep tract of hell ; say first, virhat cause 
 Mov'd our grand parents, in that happy state, 
 Favour'd of heav'n so highly, to fall off 
 From their Creator, and transgress his will 
 For one restraint, lords of the world besides ? 
 Who first seduc'd them to that foul revolt ? 
 Th' infernal serpent ; he it was, whose guile, 
 Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived 
 The mother of mankind, what time his pride 
 Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host 
 Of rebel angels : by whose aid, aspiring 
 To set himself in glory, above his peers. 
 He trusted to have equalPd the Most High, 
 If he oppos'd; and, with ambitious aim 
 Against the throne and monarchy of God, 
 Rais'd impious war in heav'n, and battle proud, 
 With vain attempt. Him the almighty power 
 Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky, 
 With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
 To bottomless perdition, there to dwell 
 In adamantine chains and penal fire. 
 Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms. 
 Nine times the space that measures day and night 
 To mortal men, he with his horrid crew 
 Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf. 
 Confounded, though immortal : but his doom 
 Reserv'd him to more wrath ; for now the thought 
 Both of lost happiness, and lasting pain. 
 Torments him ; round he throws his baleful eyes, 
 That witness'd huge affliction and dismay, 
 Mix'd with obdurate pride and steadfast hate : 
 At once, as far as angels ken, he views 
 The dismal situation waste and wild ; 
 A dungeon horrible on all sides round. 
 As one great furnace flam'd ; yet from those flamc» 
 No light, but rather darkness visible 
 
BOOK 1.] PARADISE LOST. 17 
 
 Serv'd only to discover sights of wo, 
 
 Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 
 
 And rest can never dwell, hope never comes 
 
 That comes to all ; but torture without end 
 
 Still urges, and a fiery delage, fed 
 
 With ever-burning sulphur unconsum'd : 
 
 Such place eternal justice had prepar'd 
 
 For those rebellious ; here their pris'n ordain'd 
 
 In utter darkness, and their portion set 
 
 As far remov'd from God and light of heav'n, 
 
 As from the centre thrice to th' utmost pole. 
 
 O how unlike the place from whence they fell ! 
 
 There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelm'd 
 
 With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, 
 
 He soon discerns ; and welt'ring by his side 
 
 One next himself in pow'r, and next in crime, 
 
 Long after known in Palestine, and nam'd 
 
 Beelzebub. To whom th' arch-enemy. 
 
 And thence in heav'n called Satan, with bold words 
 
 Breaking the horrid silence, thus began : 
 
 If thou beest he ; but O how fali'n ! how chang'd 
 From him, who, in the happy realms of light, 
 •Cloth'd with transcendent brightness, didst outshine 
 Myriads though bright ! If he whom mutual league, 
 United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 
 And hazard in the glorious enterprise 
 Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd 
 In equal ruin ! Into what pit thou seest. 
 From what height fali'n ; so much the stronger prov'd 
 He with his thunder : and till then who knew 
 The force of those dire arms ? yet not for those, 
 Nor what the potent victor in his rage 
 Can else inflict, do I repent or change. 
 Though chang'd in outward lustre, that fix'd mind, 
 And high disdain from sense of injur 'd merit. 
 That with the mightiest rais'd me to contend, 
 And to the fierce contention brought along 
 Innumerable force of spirits arm'd, 
 That durst dislike his reig-n, and, me preferring, 
 2* 
 
18 PARADISE LOST. [boOK t. 
 
 His Utmost pow'r with adverse pow'r opposed 
 
 In dubious battle on the plains of heav'n, 
 
 And shook his throne. What though the field be lost ? 
 
 All is not lost : th' unconquerable will, 
 
 And study of revenge, immortal hate, 
 
 And courage never to submit or yield, 
 
 And what is else not to be overcome ; 
 
 That glory never shall his wrath or might 
 
 Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace 
 
 With suppliant knee, and deify his power, 
 
 Who from the terror of this arm so late 
 
 Doubted his empire ; that were low indeed, 
 
 That were an ingnominy, and shame beneath 
 
 This downfal ; since, by fate, the strength of gods 
 
 And this empyreal substance cannot fail ; 
 
 Since, through experience of this great event. 
 
 In arms not worse, in foresight much advanc'd, 
 
 We may with more successful hope, resolve 
 
 To wage, by force or guile, eternal war, 
 
 Irreconcileable to our grand foe. 
 
 Who now triumphs, and, in th' excess of joy 
 
 Sole reigning, holds the tyranny of heaven.' 
 
 So spake th' apostate angel, though in pain, 
 Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair : 
 And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer : 
 
 O prince, O chief of many throned powers, 
 That led th' embattl'd seraphim to war. 
 Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds 
 Fearless, endanger'd heav'n's perpetual King, 
 And put to proof his high supremacy, 
 Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate 
 Too well I see and rue the dire event, 
 That with sad overthrow and foul defeat 
 Hath lost us Heav'n, and all this mighty host 
 In horrible destruction laid thus low, 
 As far as gods and heav'nly essences 
 Can perish : for the mind and spirit remain 
 Invincible, and vigour soon returns, 
 Thouo^h all our glory extinct, and happy state 
 
BOOK I.] PARADISE LOST. 19 
 
 Here swallow'd up in endless misery. 
 
 But what if he our conqueror (whom, I now 
 
 Of force believe Almighty, since no less 
 
 Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours) 
 
 Have left us in this our spirit and strength entire, 
 
 Strongly to suffer and support our pains, 
 
 That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, 
 
 Or do him mightier service as his thralls 
 
 By right of war, whate'er his bus'ness be. 
 
 Here in the heart of hell to work in fire, 
 
 Or do his errands in the gloomy deep ; 
 
 What can it then avail, though yet we feel 
 
 Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being. 
 
 To undergo eternal punishment? 
 
 Whereto with speedy words th' arch-fiend replied : 
 
 Fall'n cherub ! to be weak is miserable. 
 Doing or suff'ring; but of this be sure. 
 To do aught good, never will be our task, 
 But ever to do ill our sole delight. 
 As being the contrary to his high will 
 Whom we resist. If then his providence 
 Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, 
 Our labour must be to pervert that end, 
 And out of good still to find means of evil ; 
 Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps • 
 
 Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb 
 His inmost counsels from their destin'd aim. 
 But see ! the angry victor hath recall'd 
 His ministers of vengeance and pursuit. 
 Back to the gates of heav'n ; the sulphurous hail, 
 Shot after us in storm, o'erblown, bath laid 
 The fiery surge, that from the precipice 
 Of heav'n receiv'd us falling ; and the thunder, 
 Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage. 
 Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now 
 To bellow through the vast and boundless deep. 
 Let us not slip th' occasion, whether scorn, 
 Or satiate fury, yield it from our foe. 
 Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 
 
20 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK I. 
 
 The seat of desolation, void of light, 
 
 Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 
 
 Casts pale and dreadful ? Thither let us tend 
 
 From off the tossing of these fiery waves ; 
 
 There rest if any rest can harbour there : 
 
 And, re-assembling our afflicted powers, 
 
 Consult how we may henceforth most ofTend 
 
 Our enemy; our own loss how repair; 
 
 How overcome this dire calamity ; 
 
 What reinforcement we may gain from hope ; 
 
 If not what resolution from despair. 
 
 Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate, 
 With head uplift above the wave, and eyes 
 That sparkling blaz'd, his other parts beside, 
 Prone on the flood, extended long and large, 
 Lay floating many a rood ; in bulk as huge 
 As whom the fables name of monstrous size, 
 Titanian, or earth-born, that warr'd on Jove : 
 Briareos or Typhon, whom the den 
 By ancient Tarsus held ; or that sea beast 
 Leviathan, which God of all his works 
 Created hugest that swim th' ocean stream : 
 Him, haply slumb'ring on the Norway foam, 
 The pilot of some small night founder'd skiff 
 Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, 
 With fix'd anchor in his scaly rind 
 Moors by his side under the lee, w^hile night 
 Invests the sea, and wish'd morn delays : 
 So stretched out huge in length, the arch-fiend lay 
 Chain'd on the burning lake : nor ever thence 
 Had risen or heav'd his head, but that the will 
 And high permission of all-ruling heav'n 
 Left him at large to his own dark designs ; 
 That with reiterated crimes, he might 
 Heap on himself damnation, while he sought 
 Evil to others ; and, enrag'd, might see 
 How all his malice serv'd but to bring forth 
 Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy shown 
 On man by him seduced, but on himself 
 
BOOK I.] FABADISE LOST. 21 
 
 Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance pour'd. 
 
 Forthwith upright he rears from oflf the pool 
 
 His mighty stature ; on each hand the flames, 
 
 Driv'n backward, slope their pointing spires, and roll'd 
 
 In billows, leave i' th' midst a horrid vale. 
 
 Then with expanded wings he steers liis flight 
 
 Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air 
 
 That felt unusual weight ; till on dry land 
 
 He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd 
 
 With solid, as the lake with liquid fire ; 
 
 And such appear 'd in hue : as when the force 
 
 Of subterranean wind transports a hill 
 
 Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter 'd side 
 
 Of thund'ring .^tna, whose combustible 
 
 And fuell'd entrails, thence conceiving fire, 
 
 Sublim'd with mineral fury, aid the winds, 
 
 And leave a singed bottom all involv'd 
 
 With stench and smoke : such resting found the sole 
 
 Of unblest feet. Him foUow'd his next mate. 
 
 Both glorying to have 'scap'd the Stygian flood 
 
 As gods, and by their own recover'd strength, 
 
 Not by the sufi* 'ranee of supernal power. . 
 
 Is this the region, this the soil, the clime, ^-^ 
 
 Said then the lost arch-angel, this the seat 
 That we must change for heaven; this mournful 
 For that celestial light ? Be it so ! since he [gloom 
 Who now is sov'reign can dispose and bid 
 What shall be right : farthest from him is best. 
 Whom reason hath equall'd, force hath made supreme 
 Above his equals ! Farewell, happy fields, 
 Where joy for ever dwells. Hail horrors ! hail 
 Infernal world ! and thou profoundest hell. 
 Receive thy new possessor ! one who brings 
 A mind not to be chang'd by place or time. 
 The mind is its own place, and in itself 
 Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n. 
 What matter where if I be still the same. 
 And what I should be, all but less than he 
 Whom thunder hath made greater ? Here at least 
 
22 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK L 
 
 "We shall be free : th' Almighty hath not built 
 Here, for his envy will not drive us hence i 
 Here we may reign secure, and in my choice, 
 To reign is worth ambition, though in hell : 
 Better to reign in hell, than serve in heav'n ! 
 But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, 
 Th' associates and copartners of our loss, 
 Lie thus astonish'd on th' oblivious pool, 
 And call them not to share with us their part, 
 In this unhappy mansion ; or once more 
 With ralli'd arms, to try what may be yet 
 Regain'd in heav'n, or what more lost in hell ? 
 
 So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub 
 Thus answer'd : Leader of those armies bright, 
 Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foiled ! 
 If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge 
 Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft 
 In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge 
 Of battle when it rag'd, in all assaults 
 Their surest signal, they will soon resume 
 New courage, and revive, though now they lie 
 Grovelling and prostrate on yon lake of fire, 
 As we ere while, astounded and amaz'd ; 
 No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious height. 
 
 He scarce had ceas'd, when the superior fiend 
 Was moving to the shore : his pond'rous shield. 
 Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, 
 Behind him cast ; the broad circumference 
 Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb 
 Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views 
 At evening from the top of Fesole, 
 Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands. 
 Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. 
 His spear, to equal which the tallest pine 
 Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast 
 Of some great admiral, were but a wand, 
 He walk'd with, to support uneasy steps 
 Over the burning marie, not like those steps 
 On heaven's azure ] and the torrid clime 
 
BOOK I.] PARADISE LOST* 23 
 
 Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire : 
 
 Nathless he so endur'd, till on the beach 
 
 Of that inflamed sea, he stood, and call'd 
 
 His legions, artgel forms, who lay entranc'd 
 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 
 
 In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades, 
 
 High over-arch'd, embow'r ; or scatter'd sedge 
 
 Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd 
 
 Hath vex'd the Red-Sea coast, whose waves o'erthrew 
 
 Busiris and his Memphian chivalry. 
 
 While with perfidious hatred they pursu'd . 
 
 The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld 
 
 From the safe shore, their floating carcasses 
 
 And broken chariot wheels : so thick bestrewn, 
 
 Abject and lost lay these, covering the flood. 
 
 Under amazement of their hideous change. 
 
 He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep 
 
 Of hell resounded. Princes, potentates, 
 
 Warriors, the flower of heav'n ! once yours, now lost I 
 
 If such astonishment as this can seize 
 
 Eternal spirits ; or have ye chosen this place, 
 
 After the toil of battle, to repose 
 
 Yorur wearied virtue, for the ease you find 
 
 To slumber here, as in the vales of heav'n ? 
 
 Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 
 
 T' adore the conqueror, who now beholds 
 
 Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood. 
 
 With scatter'd arms and ensigns, till anon 
 
 His swift pursuers from heav'n's gates discern 
 
 Th' advantage, and descending, tread us down 
 
 Thus drooping, or with link'd thunderbolts 
 
 Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf? 
 
 wake, arise, or be for ever fali'n ! 
 
 They heard, and were abash 'd, and up they sprang 
 Upon the wing ; as when men wont to watch 
 On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread. 
 Rouse, and bestir themselves ere well awake. 
 Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 
 In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel ; 
 
21 ^ PARADISE LOST. [BOOK I. 
 
 Yet to their general's voice they soon obey'd 
 
 Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
 
 Of Amram's son, in Egypt's evil day, 
 
 Wav'd round the coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud 
 
 Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind. 
 
 That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung 
 
 Like night, and darken'd aii the land of Nile : 
 
 So numberless were those bad angels seen 
 
 Hovering on wing under the cope of hell, 
 
 'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires; 
 
 Till, as a signal giv'n, th' uplifted spear 
 
 Of their great suhan waving to direct 
 
 Their course, in even balance down they light 
 
 On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain ; 
 
 A multitude, like which the populous north 
 
 Pour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass 
 
 Rhene or the Danaw, when her barb'rous sons 
 
 Came like a deluge on the south, and spread 
 
 Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands. 
 
 Forthwith from every squadron, and each band, 
 
 The heads, and leaders, thither haste where stood 
 
 Their great commander ; godlike shapes, and form* 
 
 Excelling human ; princely dignities, 
 
 And pow'rs that erst in heaven sat on thrones ; 
 
 Though of their names in heav'nly records now 
 
 Be no memorial, blotted out and raz'd 
 
 By their rebellion, from the book of life. 
 
 Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve 
 
 Got them new names, till, wand'ring o'er the earth, 
 
 Through God's high suff 'ranee for the trial of man;. 
 
 By falsities and lies, the greatest part 
 
 Of mankind they corrupted to forsake 
 
 God their Creator, and th' invisible 
 
 Glory of him that made them, to transform 
 
 Oft to the image of a brute, adom'd 
 
 "With gay religions, full of pomp and gold. 
 
 And devils to adore for deities : 
 
 Then were they known to men by various names. 
 
BOOK I.] PARADISE LOST. 25 
 
 And various idols through the heathen world, [last, 
 Say, Muse, their names then known ; who first, who 
 Eous'd from the slumber, on that fiery couch. 
 At their great emp'ror's call, as next in worth 
 Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, 
 While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 
 The chief were those, who, from the pit of hell 
 Koaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix 
 Their seats long after, next the seat of God, 
 Their altars by his altar ; gods ador'd 
 Among the nations round ; and durst abide 
 Jehovah thund'ring out of Sion, thron'd 
 Between the cherubim ; yea, often plac'd 
 Within his sanctuaiy itself, their shrines. 
 Abominations ; and with cursed things 
 His holy rites and solemn feasts profan'd, 
 And with their darkness durst affront his light. 
 First, Moloch, horrid king, besmear'J with blood 
 Of human sacrifice, and parents' teais, 
 Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud 
 Their children's cries unheard, that passed through 
 To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite [fire 
 
 Worshipp'd in Rabba and her wat'ry plain, 
 In Argob, and in Basan, to the stream 
 Of utmost Arnon ; nor content with such 
 Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart 
 Of Solomon, he led by fraud, to build 
 His temple right against the temple of God, 
 On that opprobrious hill ; and made his grove 
 The pleasant valley of Hinnom, Tophet thence 
 And black Gehenna call'd, the type of hell. 
 Next, Chemos, th' obscene dread of Moab's sons, 
 From Aroar to Nebo, and the wild 
 Of southmost Abarim : in Hesebon 
 And Horonaim, Seon's realm, beyond 
 The flow'ry dale of Sibma clad with vines, 
 And Eleale to th' Asphaltic pool. 
 Peor his other name, when he entic'd 
 Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile, 
 3 
 
26 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK I. 
 
 To do ilim wanton rites, which cost them wo. 
 Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarg'd 
 E'en to that hill of scandal, by the grove 
 Of Moloch homicide, lust hard by hate ; 
 Till good Josiah drove them thence to hell. 
 With these came they, who, from the bord'ring flood 
 Of old Euphrates, to the brook that parts 
 Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 
 Of Baalim and Ashtorath, those male, 
 These feminine : for spirits, when they please, 
 Can either sex assume, or both ; so soft 
 And uncompounded is their essence pure, 
 Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, 
 Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones. 
 Like cumbrous flesh ; but, in what shape they choose 
 Dilated or condens'd, bright or obscure, 
 Can execute their airy purposes. 
 And works of love or enmity fulfil. 
 For those the race of Israel oft forsook 
 Their living strength, and unfrequented left 
 His righteous altar, bowing lowly down 
 To bestial gods ; for which their heads as low 
 Bow'd down in battle, sunk before the spear 
 Of despicable foes. With these in troop 
 Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians call'd 
 Astarte, queen of Heav'n, with crescent horns : 
 To whose bright image nightly by the moon, 
 Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs ; 
 In Sion, also not unsung, where stood 
 Her temple on th' offensive mountain, built 
 By that uxorious king, whose heart, though la^ge, 
 Beguil'd by fair idolatresses, fell 
 To idols foul. Thammuz came next behind, 
 . Whose annual wound in Lebanon, allur'd 
 ' The Syrian damsels to lament his fate 
 In amorous ditties all a summer's day, 
 While smooth Adonis frpm his native rock 
 Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood 
 Of Thammuz yearly wounded : the love-tale 
 
BOOK I.J PARADISE LOST. 27 
 
 Infected Sion's daughters with like heat, 
 
 Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch, 
 
 Ezekiel saw, when, by the vision led, 
 
 His eye survey'd the dark idolatries 
 
 Of alienated Judah. Next came one 
 
 Who mourn'd in earnest when the captive ark 
 
 Maim'd his brute image, head and hands lopt off 
 
 In his own temple, on the grunsel edge,^ 
 
 Where he fell flat, and sham'd his worshippers. 
 
 Dagon his name, sea monster, upward man 
 
 And downward fish : yet had his temple high 
 
 Rear'd in Azotus, dreaded through the coast 
 
 Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon, 
 
 And Accaron, and Gaza's frontier bounds. 
 
 Him follow'd Rimmon, whose delightful seat 
 
 Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks 
 
 Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. 
 
 He also 'gainst the house of God was bold: 
 
 A leper once he lost, and gain'd a king, 
 
 Ahaz, his sottish conqu'ror, whom he drew 
 
 God's altar to disparage, and displace 
 
 For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn 
 
 His odious off'rings, and adore the gods 
 
 Whom he had vanquish'd. After these, appear'd 
 
 A crew, who, under names of old renown, 
 
 Osiris, Isis, Orus, and their train. 
 
 With monstrous shapes and sorceries, abus'd 
 
 Fanatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 
 
 Their wand'ring gods, disguis'd in brutish forms 
 
 Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape 
 
 fh' infection, when their borrow'd gold compos'd 
 
 The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king 
 
 Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 
 
 Likening his Maker to the grazed ox, 
 
 Jehovah, who in one night, when he pass'd 
 
 From Egypt marching, equall'd with one stroke 
 
 Both her first-born and all her bleating gods. 
 
 ♦ " Grunsel, or groundsil edge :" the threshold of the tempW-gate. 
 
28 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK T 
 
 Belial came last, than whom, a spirit more lewd 
 Fell not from heav'n, or more gross to love 
 Vice for itself: to him no temple stood, 
 Or altar smok'd : yet who more oft than he 
 In temples, and at altars, when the priest 
 Turns atheist ? as did Eli's sons, who fill'd 
 With lust and violence the house of God ! 
 n courts and palaces he also reigns, 
 And in luxurious cities, where the noise 
 Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, 
 And injury, and outrage : and when night 
 Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons 
 Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. 
 Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night 
 In Gibeah, when the hospitable door 
 Expos 'd a matron to avoid worse rape. 
 These were the prime in order, and in might ; 
 The rest were long to tell, though far renown'd, 
 Th' Ionian gods, of Javan's issue, held 
 Gods, yet confess'd later than heav'n and earth, 
 Their boasted parents : Titan, heav'n's first-born, 
 With his enormous brood, and birthright seiz'd 
 By younger Saturn ; he from mightier Jove, 
 His own and Rhea's son, like measure found ; 
 So Jove usurping reign'd : these first in Crete 
 And Ida known, thence on the snowy top 
 Of cold Olympus, rul'd the middle air, 
 Their highest Heav'n ; or on the Delphian cliflfj 
 Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 
 Of Doric land ; or who with Saturn old 
 Fled o'er Adria to th' Hesperian fields. 
 And o'er the Celtic roam'd the utmost isles. 
 
 All these and more came flocking ; but with looks 
 Down-cast and damp ; yet such wherein appear'd 
 Obscure some glimpse of joy, t' have found their chief 
 Not in despair, t' have found themselves not lost 
 In loss itself; which on his count'nance cast 
 Like doubtful hue : but he, his wonted pride 
 Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore 
 
BOOK I-l PARADISE LOST. 29 
 
 Semblance of worth, not substance, gently rais'd 
 
 Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears. 
 
 Then straight commands that at the warlike sonnd 
 
 Of trumpets loud, and clarions, be uprear'd 
 
 His mighty standard : that proud honour clai?^*' < 
 
 Azazel as his right, a cherub tall ; 
 
 Who forthwith from the glitt'ring staff unfurl V 
 
 Th' imperial ensign, which full high advanc'd, 
 
 Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind. 
 
 With gems and golden lustre rich emblaz'd, 
 
 Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while 
 
 Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds : 
 
 At which the universal host up-sent 
 
 A shout, that tore hell's concave, and beyond 
 
 Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 
 
 All in a moment through the gloom were seen 
 
 Ten thousand banners rise into the air. 
 
 With orient colours waving : with them rose 
 
 A forest huge of spears ; and thronging helms 
 
 Appear'd, and serried shields'^ in thick array, 
 
 Of depth immeasureable : anon they move 
 
 In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 
 
 Of flutes and soft recorders ; such as rais'd 
 
 To height of noblest temper, heroes old 
 
 Arming to battle ; and, instead of rage. 
 
 Deliberate valour breath'd, firm and unmov'd 
 
 With dread of death to flight, or foul retreat ; 
 
 Nor wanting pow'r to mitigate and 'swage 
 
 With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase 
 
 Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain, 
 
 From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, 
 
 Breathing united force, with fix'd thought, 
 
 Mov'd on in silence to soft pipes, that charm'd 
 
 Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil ; and now 
 
 Advanc'd in view they stand, a horrid front 
 
 Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise 
 
 Of warriors old, with order'd spear and shield, 
 
 " Serried shield ;"' locked ; from the French Serrer 
 
 3* 
 
•*^0 PARADISE LOST. [boOK I. 
 
 Awaiting what command their might}'- chief 
 
 Had to impose : he through the armed files 
 
 Darts his experienc'd eye, and soon traverse 
 
 The whole battallionj views their order due. 
 
 Their visages and stature as of gods ; 
 
 Their number last he sums. And now his heart 
 
 Distends with pride, and hard'ning, in his strength 
 
 Glories : for never since created man, 
 
 Met such embodi'd force, as nam'd with these. 
 
 Could merit more than that small infantry 
 
 Warr'd on by cranes ; though all the giant brood 
 
 Of Phlegra with th' heroic race were join'd 
 
 That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side 
 
 Mix'd with auxiliar gods ; and what resounds 
 
 In fable or romance of Uther's son, 
 
 Begirt with British and Armoric knights ; 
 
 And all who since, baptiz'd or infidel, 
 
 Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban. 
 
 Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, 
 
 Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore. 
 
 When Charlemagne with all his peerage fell 
 
 By Fontarabbia. Thus far these, beyond 
 
 Compare of mortal prowess, yet observ'd 
 
 Their dread commander : he, above the rest 
 
 In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 
 
 Stood like a tower : his form had yet not lost 
 
 All her original brightness, nor appear'd 
 
 Less than archangel ruin'd, and th' excess 
 
 Of glory obscur'd : as when the sun, new risen, 
 
 Looks through the horizontal misty air, 
 
 Shorn of his beams ; or from behind the moon 
 
 In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds 
 
 On half the nations, and with fear of change 
 
 Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd so, yet shone 
 
 Above them all, th' archangel : but his face 
 
 Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd, and care 
 
 Sat on his faded cheeK, but under brows 
 
 Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride 
 
 Waiting revenge : cruel hii eye, but cast 
 
BOOK I.J PARADISE LOST. 31 
 
 Signs of remorse and passion to behold 
 
 The fellows of his crime, the followers rather, 
 
 (Far other once beheld in bliss,) condemn'd 
 
 For ever now to have their lot in pain, 
 
 Millions of spirits for his fault amerc'd 
 
 Of heav'n, and from eternal splendours flung 
 
 For his revolt, yet faithful how they stood, 
 
 Their glory wither'd : as when heaven's fire * 
 
 Hath scath'd the forest oaks, or mountain pines, 
 
 With singed top their stately growth though bare, 
 
 Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepar'd 
 
 To .speak ; whereat their doubled ranks they bend 
 
 From wing to wing, and half enclose him round 
 
 With all his peers : attention held them mute. 
 
 Thrice he assay'd, and thrice in spite of scorn, 
 
 Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth ! at last 
 
 Words, interwove with sighs, found out their way. 
 
 O myriads of immortal spirits ! O powers 
 Matchless, but with th' Almighty ! and that strife 
 Was not inglorious, though th' event was dire, 
 As this place testifies, and this dire change, 
 Hateful to utter ! but what pow'r of mind, 
 Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth 
 Of knowledge past, or present, could have fear'd 
 How such united force of gods, how such 
 As stood like these, could ever know repulse ? 
 For who can yet believe, though after loss, 
 That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
 Hath emptied heav'n, shall fail to reascend, 
 Self-rais'd, and repossess their native seat ? 
 For me, be witness all the host of heaven. 
 If counsels difTerent, or dangers shunn'd 
 By me, have lost our hopes. But he, who reigns 
 Monarch in heav'n, till then as one secure 
 Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute. 
 Consent or custom, and his regal state 
 Put forth at full, but still his strength conceal'd. 
 Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. 
 Henceforth his might we know, and know our own, 
 
32 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK I 
 
 So as not either to provoke, or dread 
 
 New war provok'd ! our better part remains 
 
 To work in close design, by fraud or guile, 
 
 What force effected not : that he no less 
 
 At length from us may find, who overcomes 
 
 By force, hath overcome but half his foe. 
 
 Space may produce new worlds ; whereof so rife 
 
 There went a fame in heav'n that he ere long 
 
 Intended to create, and therein plant 
 
 A generation, whom his choice regard 
 
 Should favour equal to the sons of heaven ; 
 
 Thither, if hut to pry, shall be perhaps 
 
 Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere: 
 
 For this infernal pit shall never hold 
 
 Celestial spirits in bondage, nor th' abyss 
 
 Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts 
 
 Full counsel must mature : peace is despair'd ; 
 
 For who can think submission ? War then, war 
 
 Open or understood, must be reeolv'd. 
 
 He spake : and to confirm his words, out flew 
 Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs 
 Of mighty cherubim ; the sudden blaze 
 Far round illumin'd hell : highly they rag'd 
 Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms 
 Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war, 
 Hurling defiance toward the vault of heav'n. 
 
 There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 
 Belch'd fire and rolling smoke ; the rest entire 
 Shone with a glossy scurf, undoubted sign 
 That in his womb was hid metallic ore. 
 The work of sulphur. Thither, wing'd with speed, 
 A num'rous brigade hasten'd : as when bands 
 Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe arm'd, 
 l^ot-erun the royal camp, to trench a field. 
 Or cast a rampart. Mammon led them on, 
 Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell 
 From heav'n ; for e'en in heaven his looks and thoughts 
 Were always downward bent, admiring more 
 The riches of heaven's pavement, ^vodden gold, 
 
BOOK I.J PARADISE LOST. 33 
 
 Than ought divine or holy else enjoy 'd 
 
 In vision beatific ; by him first 
 
 Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 
 
 Ransack'd the centre, and v^rith impious hands, 
 
 Rifled the bowels of their mother earth 
 
 For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew 
 
 Open'd into the hill a spacious wound, 
 
 And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire 
 
 That riches grow in hell ; that soil may best 
 
 Deserve the precious bane. And here let those. 
 
 Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring, tell 
 
 Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings, 
 
 Learn how theii* greatest monuments of fame, 
 
 And strength, and art, are easily outdone 
 
 By spirits reprobate, and in an hour 
 
 What in an age they, with incessant toil 
 
 And hands innumerable, scarce perform. 
 
 Nigh on the plain in many cells prepar'd, 
 
 That underneath had veins of liquid fire 
 
 Sluic'd from the lake, a second multitude 
 
 "With wond'rous art founded the massy ore, 
 
 Sev'ring each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross ; 
 
 A third as soon had form'd within the ground 
 
 A various mould, and from the boiling cells 
 
 By strange conveyance fiU'd each hollow nook : 
 
 As in an organ, from one blast of wind. 
 
 To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes. 
 
 Anon out of the earth a fabric huge 
 
 Rose like an exhalation, with the sound 
 
 Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet. 
 
 Built like a temple, where pilasters round 
 
 Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid 
 
 With golden architrave ; nor did they want 
 
 Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven , 
 
 The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, 
 
 Nor great Alcairo, such magnificence 
 
 Equall'd in all their glories, to enshrine 
 
 Belus or Serapis, their gods, or seat 
 
 Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove 
 
34 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK L 
 
 In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile 
 
 Stood fix'd her stately height ; and straight the doors, 
 
 Opening their brazen folds, discover wide 
 
 Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 
 
 And level pavement ; from the arched rool 
 
 Pendent by subtle magic, many a row 
 
 Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed 
 
 With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light 
 
 As from a sky. The hasty multitude 
 
 Admiring enter'd ; and the work some praise, 
 
 And some the architect : his hand was known 
 
 In heaven by many a tower'd structure high, 
 
 Where scepter'd angels held their residence, 
 
 And sat as princes, whom the supreme King 
 
 Exalted to such a pow'r, and gave to rule, 
 
 Each in his hierachy, the orders bright. 
 
 Nor was his name unheard or unador'd 
 
 In ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian land 
 
 Men call'd him Mulciber ; and how he fell 
 
 From heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove 
 
 Sheer o'er the crystal battlements : from morn 
 
 To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eye, 
 
 A summer's day ; and with the setting sun 
 
 Dropt from the zenith like a falling star, 
 
 On Lemnos th' jJEgean isle : thus they relate, 
 
 Erring ; for he with this rebellious rout 
 
 Fell long before ; nor aught avail'd him now 
 
 T' have built in heav'n high tow'rs ; nor did he 'scape 
 
 By all his engines, but was headlong sent 
 
 With his industrious crew to build in hell. 
 
 Meanwhile the winged heralds, by command 
 Of sov'reign pow'r, with awful ceremony 
 And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim 
 A solemn council, forthwith to be held 
 At Pandemonium, the high capital 
 Of Satan and his peers : their summons call'd 
 From every band and squared regiment 
 By place or choice the worthiest ; they anon 
 With hundreds and with thousands trooping came 
 
BOOK I ] PARADISE LOST. 85 
 
 Attended : all access was throngM ; the gates 
 
 And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall 
 
 (Though like a cover'd field, where champions bold 
 
 Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldan's chair, 
 
 Defied the best of Panim chivalry 
 
 To mortal combat, or career with lance) 
 
 Thick swarm'd both on the ground, and in the air 
 
 Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees 
 
 In spring time, when the sun with Taurus rides, 
 
 Pour forth the pop'lous youth about the hive 
 
 In clusters ; they among fresh dews and flow'rs 
 
 Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, 
 
 The suburb of their straw-built citadel 
 
 New rubb'd with balm, expatiate and confer 
 
 Their state affairs. So thick the airy crowd 
 
 Swarm'd and were straitenM ; till, the signal given, 
 
 Behold a wonder ! They but now who seem'd 
 
 In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons, 
 
 Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room 
 
 Throng numberless; like that pygmean race 
 
 Beyond the Indian mount ; or fairy elves, 
 
 Whose midnight revels, by a forest side 
 
 Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, 
 
 Or dreams he sees, while over-head the moon 
 
 Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth 
 
 Wheels her pale coarse ; they, on their mirth and dance 
 
 Intent, with jocund music charm his ear; 
 
 At once Avith joy and fear his heart rebounds. 
 
 Thus incorporeal spirits to smallest forms 
 
 Reduc'd their shapes immense, and were at large, 
 
 Though without number still, amidst the hall 
 
 Of that infernal court. But far within. 
 
 And in their own dimensions, like themselves. 
 
 The great seraphic lords and cherubim 
 
 In close recess and secret conclave sat ; 
 
 A thousand demi-gods on golden seats. 
 
 Frequent and full. After short silence then. 
 
 And summons read, tne ?rear consult oeoran 
 
 EXT; jF TiiE FfRST Book. 
 
^ 
 
THE 
 
 SECOND BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The consultation begun, Satan debates whether another battle be 
 to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven : Some advise it, 
 others dissuade : A third proposal is preferred, mentioned before 
 by Satan, to search the truth of that prophecy or tradition in 
 Heaven concerning another world, and another kind of creature, 
 equal, or not much inferior to themselves, about this time to be 
 created : Their doubt who shall be sent on this difficult search ; 
 Satan, their chief, undertakes alone the voyage, is honoured and 
 applauded. The council thus ended, the rest betake them sev- 
 eral ways, and to several employments, as their inclinations lead 
 them, to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on 
 his journey to Hell gates, finds them shut, and who sat there 
 to guard them, by whom at length they are opened, and discover 
 to him the great gulf between Hell and Heaven ; with what dif- 
 ficulty he passes through, directed by Chaos, the Power of that 
 place^ to the sight of the new world which he sought. 
 
PA.RAD1SE LOST. 
 
 BDOK II. 
 
 High on a throne of royal state, which far 
 
 O'ltshone the weahh of Ormus, and of Ind, 
 
 Or where the gorgeous east with richest hand 
 
 Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, 
 
 Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd 
 
 To that bad eminence ; and from despair 
 
 Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires 
 
 Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue 
 
 Vain war with heav'n, and by success untaught. 
 
 His proud imaginations thus display d. 
 
 Pow'rs and Dominions, Deities of heav'n. 
 For since no deep within her gulf can hold 
 Immortal vigour, though oppress'd and fallen, 
 I give not heav'n for lost. From this descent 
 Celestial virtues rising, will appear 
 More glorious and more dread than from no fall , 
 And trust themselves to fear no second fate. 
 Me, though just right, and the fix'd laws of heav*n, 
 Did first create your leader, next free choice, 
 With what besides, in council or in fight. 
 Hath been achiev'd of merit, yet this loss 
 Thus far at least recover'd hath much more 
 Establwsh'd in a safe unenvied throne, 
 Yielded with full consent. The happier state 
 In luvdv'n, which follows dignity, might draw 
 Envy from each mferior; but who here 
 
40 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK H 
 
 Will envy whom the highest place, exposes 
 Foremost to stand against the Thund'rer's aim, 
 Your bulwark, and condemns to greater share 
 Of endless pain ? where there is then no good 
 For which to strive, no strife can grow up there 
 From faction ; for none sure will claim in hell 
 Precedence, none whose portion is so small 
 Of present pain, that with ambitious mind 
 Will covet more. With this advantage then 
 To union and firm faith, and firm accord, 
 More than can be in heav'n, we now return 
 To claim our just inheritance of old, 
 Surer to prosper than prosperity- 
 Could have assured us; and by what best way. 
 Whether of open war or covert guile, 
 We now debate ; who can advise, may speak. 
 
 He ceas'd, and next him Moloch, scepter'd king 
 Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Spirit 
 That fought in heav'n, now fiercer by despair , 
 His trust was with th' Eternal to be deemed 
 Equal in strength, and rather than be less 
 Car'd not to be at all ; with that care lost 
 Went all his fear : of God, or hell, or worse 
 He reck'd not, and these words thereafter spake : 
 
 My sentence is for open war ; of wiles. 
 More unexpert, I boast not ; them let those 
 Contrive who need, or when they need, not now 
 For while they sit contriving, shall the rest, 
 Millions that stand in arms and longing wait 
 The signal to ascend, sit ling'ring here, 
 Heav'n's fugitives, and for their dwelling place 
 Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, 
 The prison of his tyranny who reigns 
 By our delay? No, let us rather choose, 
 Arm'd with hell flames and fury, all at once 
 O'er heav'n's high tow'rs to force resistless way, 
 Turning our Tort'rer into horrid arms 
 Against the torturer : when to meet the noise 
 Of his almighty engine, he shall hear 
 
BOOK II,] PARADISE LOST. 41 
 
 Infernal thunder, and for lightning see 
 Black fire and horror shot with equal rage 
 Among his Angels, and his throne itself 
 Mix'd with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire, 
 His own invented torments. But perhaps 
 The way seems difficult and steep to scale 
 With upright wing, against a higher foe. 
 Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench 
 Of that forgetful lake benumb not still, 
 That in our proper motion we ascend 
 Up to our native seat : descent and fall 
 To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, 
 When the fierce foe hung o'er our broken rear 
 Insulting, and pursu'd us through the deep, 
 With what compulsion and laborious flight 
 We sunk thus low? Th' ascent is easy then ; 
 Th' event is fear'd : should we again provoke 
 Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find 
 To our destruction ; if there be in hell 
 Fear to be worse destroy'd ; what can be worse 
 Than to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemird' 
 In this abhorred deep to utter wo ; 
 Where pain of unextinguishable fire 
 Must exercise us without hope of end 
 The vassals of his anger, when the scourge 
 Inexorably, and the tort'ring hour 
 Calls us to penance ? More destroy'd than thus 
 We should be quite abolish'd and expire. 
 What fear we then ? what doubt we to incense 
 His utmost ire ? which to the height enrag'd. 
 Will either quite consume us, and reduce 
 To nothing this essentia], happier far 
 Than miserable to have eternal being : 
 Or if our substance be indeed divine. 
 And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 
 On this side nothing : and by proof, we feel 
 Our pow'r sufficient to disturb his heav'n, 
 And with perpetual inroads to alarm, 
 4 • 
 
42 PARADISE LOST. {bOOK H. 
 
 Though inaccesible, his fatal throne :* 
 Which if not victory, is yet revenge. 
 
 He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd 
 Desp'rate revenge, and battle dangerous 
 To less than gods. On th' other side rose up 
 Belial, in act more graceful and humane ; 
 A fairer person lost not heav'n ; he seem'd 
 For dignity compos'd and high exploit : 
 But all was false and hollow ; though his tongue 
 Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear 
 The better reason, to perplex and dash 
 Maturest counsels : for his thoughts were low ; 
 To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds 
 Tim'rous and slothful : yet he pleas'd the ear, 
 And with persuasive accent thus began. 
 
 I should be much for open war, O peers ! 
 As not behind in hate ; if what was urg'd 
 Main reason to persuade immediate war, 
 Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast 
 Ominous conjecture on the whole success : 
 When he who most excels in feats of arms, 
 In what he counsels and in what excels ; 
 Mistrustful grounds his courage on despair, 
 And utter dissolution, as the scope 
 Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. 
 First, what revenge ? the tow'rs of heav'n are filPd 
 With armed watch, that renders all access 
 Impregnable ; oft on the bord'ring deep 
 Incamp their legions, or with obscure wing 
 Scout far and wide into the realm of night, 
 Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way 
 By force, and at our heels all hell should rise 
 With blackest insurrection, to confound 
 Heav'n's purest light, yet our great enemy, 
 All incorruptible, would on his throne 
 Sit unpolluted, and th' etherial mould 
 Incapable of stain would soon expel 
 
BOOK II.] PARADISE LOST. 43 
 
 Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire 
 Victorious. Thus repuls'd our final hope 
 Is flat despair ; we must exasperate 
 Th' almighty victor to spend all his rage, 
 And that must end us, that must be our cure. 
 To be no more ; sad cure ; for who would lose, 
 Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
 Those thoughts that wander through eternity, 
 To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost 
 In the wide womb of uncreated night. 
 Devoid of sense and motion ? and who knows, 
 Let this be good, whether our angry foe 
 Can give it, or will ever ? how he can, 
 Is doubtful ; that he never will, is sure. 
 Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, 
 Belike through impotence, or unaware. 
 To give his enemies their wish, and end 
 Them in his anger, whom his anger saves 
 To punish endless ? Wherefore cease we then ? 
 Say they w^ho counsel war, we are decreed, 
 Reserv'd, and destin'd to eternal wo ; 
 Whatever doing, what can v;e suffer more. 
 What can we suffer worse ? Is this then worst, 
 Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms ? 
 What ! when we fled amain, pursu'd and struck 
 With heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought 
 The deep to shelter us ? this hell then seem'd 
 A refuge from those wounds : or when we lay 
 Chain'd on the burning lake ? that sure was worse 
 What if the breath, that kindled those grim fires, 
 Awak'd, should blow them into sevenfold rage, 
 And plunge us in the flames ? or from above 
 Should intermitted vengeance, arm again 
 His red right hand to plague us ? what if all 
 Her stores were open'd, and this firmament 
 Of hell should spout her cataracts of fire. 
 Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall 
 One day upon our heads ; while we perhaps 
 Designing or exhorting- oflorious war. 
 
44 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK II. 
 
 Caught in a fiery tempest shall be hurl'd 
 
 Each on his rock transfix'd, the sport and prey 
 
 Of wracking whirlwinds, or forever sunk 
 
 Under yon boiling ocean wrapt in chains ; 
 
 There to converse with everlasting groans, 
 
 Unrespited, unpitied, unrepriev'd, 
 
 Ages of hopeless end ? this would be worse. 
 
 War therefore, open or conceal'd, alike 
 
 My voice dissuades ; for what can force or guile 
 
 With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye 
 
 Views all things at one view ? he from heav'n's height 
 
 All these our motions vain, sees and derides ; 
 
 Not more almighty to resist our might 
 
 Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. 
 
 Shall we then live thus vile, the race of heuv'n 
 
 Thus trampled, thus expell'd to suffer here 
 
 Chains and these torments ? better these than worse, 
 
 By my advice; since fate inevitable 
 
 Subdues us, and omnipotent decree. 
 
 The victor's will. To suffer, as to do. 
 
 Our strength is equal, nor the law unjust 
 
 That so ordains : this was at first resolv'd, 
 
 If we were wise, against so great a foe 
 
 Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. 
 
 I laugh when those who at the spear are bold 
 
 And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear 
 
 What yet they know must follow, to endure 
 
 Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain. 
 
 The sentence of their conqu'ror : this is now 
 
 Our doom ; which if we can sustain and bear, 
 
 Our supreme foe in time may much remit 
 
 His anger, and perhaps thus far remov'd 
 
 Not mind us not offending, satisfy'd 
 
 With what is punish'd ; whence these raging fires 
 
 Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. 
 
 Our purer essence then will overcome 
 
 Their noxious vapour, or innur'd not feel, 
 
 Or chang'd at length, and to the place conformed 
 
 In temper and in nature, will receive 
 
BOOK 11.] PARADISE LOST. 45 
 
 Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain, 
 
 This horror -will grow mild, this darkness light ; 
 
 Besides what hope the never-ending flight 
 
 Of future days may bring, what chance, what change 
 
 Worth waiting, since our present lot appears 
 
 For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, 
 
 If we procure not to ourselves more wo. 
 
 Thus Belial with words cloth'd in reason's garb, 
 Counsel'd ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth. 
 Not peace : and after him, thus Mammon spake • 
 
 Either to disenthrone the king of heav'n 
 We war, if war we best, or to regain 
 Our own right lost : him to unthrone we then 
 May hope, when everlasting fate shall yield 
 To fickle chance, and Chaos judge the strife; 
 The former vain to hope argues as vain 
 The latter : for what place can be for us 
 Within heav'ns bound, unless heav'n 's lord supreme 
 We overpow'r ? Suppose he should relent, 
 And publish grace to all, on promise made 
 Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
 Stand in his presence humble, and receive 
 Strict laws impos'd, to celebrate his throne 
 With warbled hymns, and to his godhead sing 
 Forc'd hallelujahs ; while he lordly sits 
 Our envied Sov'reign, and his altar breathes 
 Ambrosial odours, and ambrosial flow'rs, 
 Our servile off 'rings ? This must be our task 
 In heav'n, this our delight ; how wearisome 
 Eternity so spent in worship paid 
 To whom we hate ! Let us not then pursue 
 By force impossible, by leave obtain'd, 
 Unacceptable, though in heav'n, our state 
 Of splendid vassalage ; but rather seek 
 Our own good from ourselves, and from our own 
 Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess, 
 Free and to none accountable, preferring 
 Hard liberty before the easy yoke 
 Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear 
 
46 PARADISE LOST. [bOOIC II. 
 
 Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, 
 
 Useful of hurtful, prosp'rous of adverse 
 
 We can create, and in what place soe'er 
 
 Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain 
 
 Through labour and endurance. This deep world 
 
 Of darkness do we dread ? How oft amidst 
 
 Thick clouds and dark, doth heav'n's all-ruling Sire 
 
 Choose to reside, his glory unobscur'd, 
 
 And with the majesty of darkness round 
 
 Covers his throne ; from whence deep thunders roar 
 
 Must'ring their rage, and heav'n resembles hell? 
 
 As he our darkness, cannot we his light 
 
 Imitate when we please ? This desert soil 
 
 Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold ; 
 
 Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise 
 
 Magnificence ; and what can heav'n show more ? 
 
 Our torments also may in length of time 
 
 Become our elements, these piercing fires 
 
 As soft as now severe, our temper chang'd 
 
 Into their temper ; which must needs remove 
 
 The sensible of pain.=^ All things invite 
 
 To peaceful counsels, and the settled state 
 
 Of order, how in safety best we may 
 
 Compose our present evils, with regard 
 
 Of what we are and were, dismissing quite 
 
 All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise. 
 
 He scarce had finish'd, when such murmur fiU'd 
 Th' assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 
 The sound of blust'ring winds, which all night long 
 Had rous'd the seas, now with hoarse cadence lull 
 Sea-faring men o'er-watch'd, whose bark by chance. 
 Or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay 
 After the tempest : such applause was heard 
 As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleas'd, 
 Advising peace : for such another field 
 They dreaded worse than hell : so much the fear 
 Of thunder and the sword of Michael 
 
 ♦ " The sensible of pain :" the s<»n8il»ility or faculty of fteling. 
 
BOOK 11.] PARADISE LOST. 47 
 
 Wrought still within them ; and no less desire 
 
 To found this nether empire, which might rise 
 
 By policy and long process of time, 
 
 In emulation opposite to heav'n. 
 
 Which when Beelzebub perceiv'd, than whom, 
 
 Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 
 
 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd 
 
 A pillar of state, deep on his front engraven 
 
 Deliberation sat, and public care ; 
 
 And princely counsel in his face yet shone, 
 
 Majestic though in ruin : sage he stood, 
 
 With Atlantean shoulders, fit to bear 
 
 The weight of mightiest monarchies ; his look 
 
 Brew audience and attention still as night, 
 
 Or summers noontide air, while thus he spake : 
 
 Thrones and Imperial Pow'rs, offspring of heav'n, 
 
 Ethereal Virtues ; ot these titles now 
 
 Must we renounce, and changing style be call'd 
 
 Princes of hell ? for so the pop'kr vote 
 
 Inclines us, here to continue, and build up here 
 
 A growing empire ; doubtless, while we dream, 
 
 And know not that the King of heav'n hath doom'd 
 
 This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat 
 
 Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt 
 
 From heav'n 's high jurisdiction, in new league 
 
 Banded against his throne, but to remain 
 
 In strictest bondage, though thus far remov'd 
 
 Under the inevitable curb, reserv'd 
 
 His captive multitude : for He, be sure, 
 
 In height or depth, still first and last will reign 
 
 Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part 
 
 By our revolt, but over hell extend 
 
 His empire, and with iron sceptre rule 
 
 Us here, as with his golden those in heav'n. 
 
 What sit we then projecting peace and war ? 
 
 War hath determin'd us, and foil'd with loss 
 
 Irreparable ; terms of peace yet none 
 
 Vouchsaf'd or sought ; for what peace will be giv'n 
 
 10 us enslav'd, but custody severe, 
 
48 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK XI 
 
 And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
 
 Inflicted ? and what peace can we return, 
 
 But to our pow'r hostility and hate, 
 
 Untam'd reluctance, and revenge though slow, 
 
 Yet ever plotting how the Conqu'ror least 
 
 May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice 
 
 In doing what we most in suff'ring feel ? 
 
 Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need 
 
 With dang'rous expedition to invade 
 
 Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault or seige, 
 
 Or ambush from the deep. What if we find 
 
 Some easier enterprise ? There is a place, 
 
 (If ancient and prophetic fame in heav'n 
 
 Err not) another world, the happy seat^ 
 
 Of some new race call'd Man, about this time 
 
 To be created like to us, though less 
 
 In pow'r and excellence, but favoured more 
 
 Of him who rules above ; so was his will 
 
 Pronounc'd among the gods, and by an oath, 
 
 That shook heav'n 's whole circumference, confirm d 
 
 Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn 
 
 What creatures there inhabit, of what mould, 
 
 Or substance ; how indu'd, and what their pow'r, 
 
 And where their weakness, how attempted best, 
 
 By force or subtlety. Though heav'n be shut, 
 
 And heav'n's high Arbitrator sit secure 
 
 In his own strength, this place may lie expos'd ; 
 
 The utmost border of his kingdom, left, 
 
 To their defence who hold it : here perhaps 
 
 Some advantageous act may be achiev'd 
 
 By sudden onset, either with hell fire 
 
 To waste his whole creation, or possess 
 
 All as our own, and drive, as we were driven, 
 
 The puny inhabitants, or if not drive. 
 
 Seduce them to our party, that their God 
 
 May prove their foe, and with repenting hand 
 
 Abolish his own works. This would surpass 
 
 Common revenge, and interrupt his joy 
 
 In our confusion, and our joy upraise 
 
BOOK 11. j i aradise lost. 40 
 
 In his disturbance ; when his darling sons, 
 Hurl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse 
 Their frail original, and faded bliss, 
 Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth 
 Attempting, or to sit in darkness here, 
 Hatching vain empires. Thus Beelzebub 
 Pleaded his devilish counsel, first devis'd 
 By Satan, and in part propos'd : for whence, 
 But from the author of all ill, could spring 
 So deep a malice, to confound the race 
 Of mankind in one root, and earth with hell 
 To mingle and involve, done all to spite 
 The great Creator ? But their spite still serves 
 His glory to augment. The bold design 
 Pleas'd highly those infernal States, and joy 
 Sparkled in all their eyes ; with full assent 
 They fote ; whereat his speech he thus renews. 
 "Well have ye judg'd, well ended long debate, 
 Synod of gods, and like to what ye are. 
 Great things resolv'd, whicn from the lowest deep, 
 Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, 
 Nearer our ancient seat ; perhaps in view 
 Of those bright confines, whence with neighb'ring arms 
 And opportune excursion we may chance 
 Ke-enter heav'n ; or else in some mild zone 
 Dwell not un visited of heav'n 's fair light 
 Secure, and at the bright'ning orient beam 
 Purge off this gloom ; the soft delicious air, 
 To heal the scar of these corrosive fires. 
 Shall breath her balm. But first whom shall we send 
 In search of this new world ? whom shall we find 
 Sufficient? who shall tempt with wand'ring feet 
 The dark unbottom'd infinite abyss. 
 And through the palpable obscure find out 
 His uncouth way, to spread his airy flight 
 Upborne with indefatigable wings 
 Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive 
 The happy isle? what strength, what ait can then 
 Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe 
 5 
 
60 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK Il» 
 
 Through the strict sentries and stations thick 
 Of angels watching round ? Here he had need 
 All circumspection, and we now no less 
 Choice in our suffrage ; for on whom we send, 
 The weight of all, and our last hope relies. 
 
 This said, he sat ; and expectation held 
 His look suspense, awaiting who appear'd 
 To second, or oppose, or undertake 
 The perilous attempt ; hut all sat mute, 
 Pond'ring the danger with deep thoughts ; and each 
 In others' count'nance, read his own dismay 
 Astonish'd : none among the choice and prime 
 Of those heav'n-warring champions could be found 
 So hardy as to proffer or accept 
 Alone the dreadful voyage ; till at last, 
 Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised 
 Above his fellows, with monarchial pride. 
 Conscious of highest worth, unmov'd, thus spake . 
 
 O progeny of heav'n, empyreal thrones, 
 With reason hath deep silence and demur 
 Seiz'd us, though undismay'd : long is the way 
 And hard, that out of hell leads up to light ; 
 Our prison strong ; this huge convex of fire, 
 Outrageous to devour, immures us round 
 Ninefold, the gates of burning adamant 
 Barr'd over to prohibit all egress. 
 These pass'd, if any pass, the void profound 
 Of unessential Night receives him next 
 Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being 
 Threatens him ; plung'd in that abortive gulf. 
 If thence he 'scape, into whatever world, 
 Or unknown region, what remains him less 
 Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape ? 
 But I should ill become this throne, O peers. 
 And this imperial sov'reignty adorn'd 
 With splendour, arm'd with pow'r if ought proposed 
 And judg'd of public moment, in the shape 
 Of difficulty or danger, could deter 
 Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume 
 
BOOK II.] PARADISE LOST. 61 
 
 These royalties, and not refuse to reign, 
 
 Kefusing to accept as great a share 
 
 Of hazard as of honour, due alike 
 
 To him who reigns, and so much to him due 
 
 Of hazard more, as he above the rest 
 
 High honour'd sits ? Go therefore, mighty pow'rs, 
 
 Terror of heav'n, though fall'n ; intend at home, 
 
 While here shall be our home, what best may ease 
 
 The present misery, and render hell 
 
 More tolerable ; if there be cure or charm 
 
 To respite or deceive, or slack the pain 
 
 Of this ill mansion : intermit no watch 
 
 Against a wakeful foe, while I abroad 
 
 Through all the coasts of dark destruction, seek 
 
 Deliverance for us all : this enterprise 
 
 None shall partake with me. Thus saying rose 
 
 The monarch, and prevented all reply, 
 
 Prudent lest from his resolution rais'd, 
 
 Others among the chief might offer now 
 
 (Certain to be refus'd) what erst they fear'd; 
 
 And so refus'd might in opinion stand 
 
 His rivals, winning cheap the high repute 
 
 Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they 
 
 Dreaded not more th' adventure than his voice 
 
 Forbidding ; and at once with him they rose ; 
 
 Their rising all at once was as the sound 
 
 Of thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend 
 
 With awful reverence prone ; and as a God 
 
 Jlxtol him equal to the Highest in heav'n : 
 
 Nor fail'd they to express how much they praised, 
 
 That for the general safety he despis'd 
 
 His own : for neither do the spirits damn'd 
 
 Lose all their virtue, lest bad men should boast 
 
 Their specious deeds on earth, which glory excites, 
 
 Or close ambition varnish'd o'er with zeal. 
 
 Thus they their doubtful consultations dark 
 
 Ended, rejoicing in their matchless chief: 
 
 As when from mountain tops the dusky clouds 
 
 Ascending, while the north-wind sleeps, o'erspread 
 
62 PARADISE LOST. fflOOK II. 
 
 Heav'ri's cheerful face, the louring element 
 
 Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape, snow or shower; 
 
 If chance the radiant sun with farewell sweet 
 
 Extend his evening beam, the fields revive, 
 
 The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds 
 
 Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. 
 
 O shame to men ! Devil with Devil damn'd 
 
 Firm concord holds, men only disagree 
 
 Of creatures rational, though under hope 
 
 Of heav'nly grace : and God proclaiming peace, 
 
 Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 
 
 Among themselves, and levy cruel wars. 
 
 Wasting the earth, each other to destroy : 
 
 As if (which might induce us to accord) 
 
 Man had not hellish foes enow besides. 
 
 That day and night for his destruction wait. 
 
 The Stygian council thus dissolved ; and forth 
 In order came the grand infernal peers : 
 Midst came their mighty paramount, and seem'd 
 Alone th' antagonist of heav'n, nor less 
 Than hell's dread emperor, with pomp supreme, 
 And godlike imitated state ; him round 
 A globe of fiery Seraphim enclos'd 
 With bright emblazonry, and horrent arms. 
 Then of their session ended, they bid cry 
 With trumpet's regal sound, the great result : 
 Towards the four winds four speedy Cherubim 
 Put to their mouths the sounding alchymy 
 By heralds' voice explain'd ; the hollow abyss 
 Heard far and wide, and all the host of hell 
 With deaf'ning shout return'd them loud acclaim. 
 Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat rais'd 
 By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Powers 
 Disband, and wand'ring, each his several way 
 Pursues, as inclination or sad choice 
 Leads him perplex'd, where he may likeliest find 
 Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain 
 The irksome hours, till his great chief return. 
 Part on the plain, or in the air sublime, 
 
BOOK II-l PARADISE tOsT. 63 
 
 Upon the wing, or in swift race contend, 
 As at th' Olympian games or Pythian fields ; 
 Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 
 With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. 
 As when to warn proud cities, war appears 
 Wag'd in the troubled sky, and armies rush 
 To battle in the clouds, before each van 
 Prick forth the airy knights, and couch their spears 
 Till thickest legions close : with feats of arms 
 From either end of heav'n the welkin burns. 
 Others with vast Typhosan rage more fell 
 Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 
 In whirlwind ; hell scarce holds the wild uproar. 
 As when Alcides, from QEchalia crown'd 
 With conquest, felt th' envenom'd robe, and tore 
 Through pain, up by the roots Thessalian pines, 
 And Lichas from the top of (Eta threw 
 Into th' Euboic sea. Others more mild, 
 Retreated in a silent valley, sing 
 With notes angelical to many a harp 
 Their own heroic deeds and hapless fall 
 By doom of battle ; and complain that fate 
 Free virtue should inthral to force or chance. 
 Their song was partial, but the harmony 
 (What could it less when Spirits immortal sing ?) 
 Suspended hell, and took with ravishment 
 The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet 
 (For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense,) 
 Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, 
 In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high 
 Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, 
 Fix'd fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute. 
 And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost. 
 Of good and evil much they argued, then 
 Of happiness and final misery. 
 Passion and apathy, and glory, and shame. 
 Vain vnsdom all, and false philosophy : 
 Yet with a pleasing sorcery could charm 
 Pain for a while, or anguish, and excite 
 5* 
 
54 PARADISE LOST. [bOOIL n. 
 
 Fallacious hope, or arm th' obdured breast 
 
 With stubborn patience as with triple steel. 
 
 Another part in squadrons and gross bands, 
 
 On bold adventure to discover wide 
 
 That dismal world, if any clime perhaps 
 
 Might yield them easier habitation, bend 
 
 Four ways their flying march, along the banks 
 
 Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge 
 
 Into the burning lake their baleful streams ; 
 
 Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate ; 
 
 Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep; 
 
 Cocytus nam'd, of lamentation loud 
 
 Heard on the rueful stream : fierce Phlegethon, 
 
 Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. 
 
 Far off from these a slow and silent stream, 
 
 Lethe the river of oblivion rolls 
 
 Her wat'ry labrinth, whereof who drinks. 
 
 Forthwith his former state and being forgets, 
 
 Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. 
 
 Beyond this flood a frozen continent 
 
 Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms 
 
 Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land 
 
 Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems 
 
 Of ancient pile ; all else deep snow and ice : 
 
 A gulf profound as that Serbonion bog 
 
 Betwixt Damiata and mount Casius old. 
 
 Where armies v/hole have sunk : the parching air 
 
 Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of fire. 
 
 Thither by harpy footed furies haul'd 
 
 At certain revolutions all the damn'd 
 
 Are brought ; and feel by turns the bitter change 
 
 Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce, 
 
 From beds of raging fire, to starve in ice ^ 
 
 Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine 
 
 Immoveable, infix'd, and frozen round 
 
 Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire. 
 
 They ferry over this Lethean sound 
 
 Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment. 
 
 And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach 
 
BOOK 11.] PARADISE LOST. 55 
 
 The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose 
 
 In sweet forgetfulness all pain and wo, 
 
 All in one moment, and so near the brink ; 
 
 But fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt 
 
 Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards 
 
 The ford, and of itself the water flies 
 
 All taste of living wight, as once it fled 
 
 The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on 
 
 In confus'd march forlorn, th' advent'rous bands 
 
 With shudd'ring horror pale, and eyes aghast, 
 
 View'd first their lamentable lot, and found 
 
 No rest : through many a dark and dreary vale 
 
 They pass'd, and many a region dolorous, 
 
 O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp. 
 
 Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of 
 
 death, 
 A universe of death, which God by curse 
 Created evil, for evil only good. 
 Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds 
 Perverse all monstrous all prodigious things, 
 Abominable, unutterable, and worse 
 Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd, 
 Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimeraeas dire. 
 
 Meanwhile the Adversary of God and Man, 
 Satan, with thoughts infiam'd of highest design, 
 Puts on swift wings, and tow'rds the gates of hell 
 Explores his solitary flight : sometimes 
 He scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left, 
 Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 
 Up to the fiery concave, tow'ring high. 
 As when far off at sea a fleet descry'd 
 Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds 
 Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 
 Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring 
 Their spicy drugs : they on the trading flood 
 Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape 
 Ply, stemming nightly tow'rd the pole. So seemed 
 Far off the flying Fiend : at last appear 
 Hell bounds high reaching to the horrid roof, 
 
66 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK II. 
 
 And thrice threefold the gates; three folds were brasa 
 Three iron, three of adamantine rock 
 Impenetrable, empaPd with circling fire,* 
 Yet unconsum'd. Before the gates there sat 
 On either side a formidable shape ; 
 The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair, 
 But ended foul in many a scaly fold 
 Voluminous and vast, a serpent arm'd 
 With mortal sting : about her middle round 
 A cry of hell hounds never ceasing bark'd 
 With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung 
 A hideous peal ; yet when they list, would creep, 
 If ought disturbed their noise into her womb. 
 And kennel there, yet there still bark'd and howl'd 
 Within, unseen. Far less abhorr'd than these 
 Vex'd Sc^dla bathing in the sea that parts 
 Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore : 
 Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when call'd 
 In secret ; riding through the air she comes, 
 Lur'd with the smell of infant blood, to dance 
 With Lapland witches, while the lab'ring moon 
 Eclipses at their charms. The other shape. 
 If shape it might be call'd, that shape had none 
 Distinguishable, in member, joint, or limb ; 
 Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd 
 For each seem'd either ; black it stood as Night, ^ 
 Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as hell, 
 And shook a dreadful dart ; what seem'd his head 
 The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 
 Satan was now at hand, and from his seat 
 The monster moving onward, came as fast 
 With horrid strides, hell trembled as he strode, 
 rh' undaunted Fiend what this might be admir'd, 
 Admir'd, not fear'd : God and his Son except. 
 Created thing naught valu'd he nor shunn'd ; 
 And with disdainful look thus first began : 
 Whence and what art thou, execrable shape ! 
 
 ♦ " Empal'd with circling fire ;'' paled or hedged in. 
 
BOOK II.] PARADISE LOST. 67 
 
 That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance 
 Thy miscreated front athwart my way 
 To yonder gates ? Through them I m&an to pass, 
 That be assur'd, without leave ask'd of thee ; 
 Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof. 
 Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of heav'n. 
 
 To whom the goblin full of wrath reply'd : 
 Art thou that traitor Angel, art thou he 
 Who first broke peace in heav'n, and faith till then 
 Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms 
 Drew after him the third part of heav'n's sons 
 Conjur'd against the Highest, for which both thou 
 And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd 
 To waste eternal days in wo and pain ? 
 And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of heav'n, 
 Hell-do om'd, and breath'st defiance here, and scorn 
 Where I reign king, and to enrage thee more, 
 Thy king and lord ? Back to thy punishment, 
 False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, 
 Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue 
 Thy ling'ring, or with one stroke of this dart 
 Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before. 
 
 So spake the grisly terror, and in shape. 
 So speaking and so threat'ning, grew tenfold 
 More dreadful and deform : on th' other side 
 Incens'd with indignation, Satan stood 
 Unterrify'd, and like a comet burn'd. 
 That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge 
 In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 
 Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head 
 Levell'd his deadly aim ; their fatal hands 
 No second stroke intend, and such a frown 
 Each cast at th' other, as when two black clouds 
 With heav'n's artillery fraught, come rattling on 
 Over the Caspian, then stand front to front 
 Hovering a space, till winds, the signal blow 
 To join their dark encounter in mid air : 
 So frown'd the mighty combatants, that hell 
 Grew darker at their frown, so match'd they stood ; 
 
53 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK XL 
 
 For never but once more was either like 
 To meet so great a foe : and now great deeds 
 Had been achiev'd, whereof all hell had rung, 
 Had not the snaky sorceress that sat 
 Fast by hell gate, and kept the fatal key, 
 Kis'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. 
 O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry'd, 
 Against thy only son ? What fury, O Son, 
 Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart 
 Against thy Father's head ? and know'st for whom ? 
 For him who sits above and laughs the while 
 At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute 
 Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids : 
 His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both. 
 She spake, and at her words the hellish pest 
 Forbore ; then these, to her, Satan return'd : 
 
 So strange thy outcry, and thy words, so strange 
 Thou interposest, that my sudden hand 
 Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds 
 What it intends ; till first I know of thee, 
 What thing thou art, thus double form'd and why 
 In this infernal vale first met thou call'st 
 Me Father, and that phantasm call'st my son ; 
 T know thee not, nor ever saw till now 
 Sight more detestable than him and thee. 
 
 T' whom thus the port'ress of hell gate reply'd : 
 Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem 
 Now in thine eye so foul ? once deem'd so fair 
 In heav'n, when at th' assembly, and in sight 
 Of all the Seraphim with thee combin'd 
 In bold conspiracy 'gainst heay'n's King, 
 All on a sudden, miserable pain 
 Surpriz'd thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swum 
 In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast 
 Threw forth, till on the left side opening wide, 
 Likest to thee in shape and count'nance bright, 
 Then shining heav'nly fair, a goddess arm'd 
 Out of thy head I sprung; amazement seiz'd 
 All th' host of heav'n ; back they recoil'd afraid 
 
BOOK II.] PARADISE LOST. 69 
 
 At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a sign 
 
 Portentous held me ; but familiar grown, 
 
 I pleas'd, and with attractive graces won 
 
 The most averse ; thee chiefly, who full oft 
 
 Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing, 
 
 Becam'st enamour'd, and such joy thou took'st 
 
 With me in secret, that my womb conceiv'd 
 
 A growing burden. Meanwhile war arose 
 
 And fields were fought in heav'n ; wherein remain'd 
 
 (For what could else ?) to our almighty foe 
 
 Clear victory, to our part loss and rout 
 
 Through all the empyrean : down they fell 
 
 Into this deep, and in the gen'ral fall 
 
 I also ; at which time this pow'rful key 
 
 Driv'n headlong from the pitch of Heav'n, down 
 
 Into my hand was giv'n, with charge to keep 
 
 These gates for ever shut, which none can pass 
 
 Without my opening. Pensive here I sat 
 
 Alone, but long I sat not, till my womb 
 
 Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown, 
 
 Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes. 
 
 At last this odious offspring whom thou seest 
 
 Thine own begotton, breaking violent way. 
 
 Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain 
 
 Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew 
 
 Transform'd : but he my inbred enemy 
 
 Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart 
 
 Made to destroy : I fled, and cry'd out Death ! 
 
 Hell trembled at the hideous name, an 1 sigh'd 
 
 From all her caves, and back resounded Death ! 
 
 I fled, but he pursued, (though more, it seems, 
 
 Inflam'd with lust than rage) and swifter far, 
 
 Me overtook his mother all dismay'd, 
 
 And in embraces forcible and foul 
 
 Engend'ring with me, of that rape begot 
 
 These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry 
 
 Surround me as thou saw'st, hourly conceiv'd 
 
 And hourly born, with sorrow infinite 
 
 To me ; for when they list, into the womb 
 
60 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK II. 
 
 That bred them, they return, and howl and gnaw 
 My bowels, their repast ; then bursting forth 
 Afresh with conscious terrors vex me round, 
 That rest or intermission none I find. 
 Before mine eyes in opposition sits 
 Grim Death my son and foe, who sets them on, 
 And me his parent would full soon devour 
 For want of other prey, but that he knows 
 His end with mine involv'd ; and knows that I 
 Should prove a bitter morsel, and his bane, 
 Whenever that shall be ; so Fate pronounc'd 
 But thou, Father, I forewarn thee, shun 
 His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope 
 To be invulnerable in those bright arms, 
 Though temper'd heav'nly, for that mortal dint, 
 Save he who reigns above, none can resist. 
 
 She finish'd, and the subtle Fiend his lore 
 Soon learn'd, now milder, and thus answer'd smooth: 
 Dear daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy sire, 
 And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledge 
 Of dalliance had with thee in heav'n, and joys 
 Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change 
 Befall'n us unforseen, unthought of; know 
 I come no enemy, but to set free 
 From out this dark and dismal house of pain 
 Both him and thee, and all the heav'nly host 
 Of spirits, that in our just pretences arm'd, 
 Fell with us from on high : from them I go 
 This uncouth errand sole, and one for all 
 Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread 
 Th' unfounded deep, and through the void immfenK; 
 To search with wand'ring quest a place foretold 
 
 hould be, and by concurring signs, ere now 
 Created vast and round, a place of bliss 
 In the purlieus of heav'n, and therein plac'd 
 A race of upstart creatures, to supply 
 Perhaps our vacant room, though more remov'd 
 Lest heav'n surcharg'd with potent multitude 
 Might hap to move new broils ; be this or aught 
 
BOOK II.] PARADISE LOST. 61 
 
 Than this more secret now design 'd, I haste 
 To know, and this once known, shall soon return, 
 And bring ye to the place where Thou and Death 
 Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 
 Wing silently the buxom air,^ embalm'd 
 With odours ; there ye shall be fed and fiU'd 
 Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey. 
 
 He ceas*d, for both seem'd highly pleas'd, and Death 
 Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear 
 His famine should be fill'd, and bless'd his maw 
 Destin'd to that good hour: no less rejoic'd 
 His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire. 
 
 The key of this infernal pit by due 
 And by command of Heav'n's all-pow'rful King 
 I keep, by him forbidden to unlock 
 These admantine gates ; against all force 
 Death ready stands to interpose his dart, 
 Fearless to be o'ermatch'd by living might. 
 But what owe I to his commands above 
 AVho hates me, and hath thither thrust me down 
 Into this gloom of Tartarus profound, 
 To sit in hateful office here confin'd, 
 Inhabitant of heav'n, and heav'nly born, 
 Here in perpetual agony and pain, 
 With terrors and with clamours compass'd round 
 Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed ; 
 Thou art my father, thou my author, thou 
 My being gav'st me ; whom should I obey 
 But thee, whom follow 1 thou wilt bring me soon 
 To that new world of light and bliss, among 
 The gods who live at ease, where I shall reign 
 At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems 
 Thy daughter and thy darling without end. 
 
 Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, 
 Sad instrument of all our wo, she took ; 
 And tow'rds the gate rolling her bestial train, 
 Forthwith the huge portcullis high up drew, 
 
 Buxom air :" yielding. 
 
62 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK U 
 
 Which but herself, not all the Stygian Powr's 
 
 Could once have mov'd ; then in the key-hole turns 
 
 Th' intricate wards, and every bolt and bar 
 
 Of massy iron or solid rock with ease 
 
 Unfastens : on a sudden, open fly 
 
 With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 
 
 Th' infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
 
 Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook 
 
 Of Erebus. She open'd, but to shut 
 
 Excell'd her pow'r; the gates wide open stood, 
 
 That with extended wings a banner'd host 
 
 Under spread ensigns marching might pass through 
 
 With horse and chariots rank'd in loose array ; 
 
 So wide they stood and like a furnace mouth 
 
 Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame^ 
 
 Before their eyes in sudden view appear 
 
 The secrets of the hoary deep, a dark 
 
 Illimitable ocean, without bound. 
 
 Without dimension, where length, breadth, and height, 
 
 And time and place are lost ; where eldest Night 
 
 And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold 
 
 Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise 
 
 Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. 
 
 For hot, cold, moist or dry, four champions fierce. 
 
 Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring 
 
 Their embryon atoms ; they round the flag 
 
 Of each his faction, in their several clans, 
 
 Light arm'd, or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slo\% 
 
 Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the sands 
 
 Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil. 
 
 Levied to side with warring winds, and poise 
 
 Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere. 
 
 He rules a moment; Chaos umpire sits. 
 
 And by decision more embroils the fray 
 
 By which he reigns : next him high arbiter 
 
 Chance governs all. Into this wild abyss 
 
 The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave, 
 
 Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, 
 
 But all these in their pregnant causes mix'd 
 
BOOK II.] PARADISE LOST. 63 
 
 Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight, 
 
 Unless th' ahnighty Maker them ordain 
 
 His dark materials to create more worlds ; 
 
 Into this wild ab3'ss the war}^ Fiend 
 
 Stood on the brink of hell and look'd awhile, 
 
 Pond'ring his voyage ; for no narrow frith 
 
 He had to cross. Nor was his ear less peal'd 
 
 With noises loud and ruinous (to compare 
 
 Great things with small) than when Bellona storms. 
 
 With all her battering engines bent to raze 
 
 Some capital city ; or less than if this frame 
 
 Of heav'n were falling, and these elements 
 
 In mutiny had from her axle torn 
 
 The steadfast earth. At last his sail-broad vans 
 
 He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoke 
 
 Uplifted spurns the ground ; thence many a league, 
 
 As in a cloudy chair, ascending rides 
 
 Audacious ; but that seat soon failing, meets 
 
 A vast vacuity : all unawares 
 
 Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb down he drops 
 
 Ten thousand fathom deep, and to this hour 
 
 Down had been falling, had not by ill chance 
 
 The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud, 
 
 Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him • 
 
 As many miles aloft ; that fury stay'd, 
 
 Quench'd in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea, 
 
 Nor good dry land ; nigh founder'd on he fares, 
 
 Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, 
 
 Half flying ; behoves him now both oar and sail. 
 
 As when a griphon through the wilderness 
 
 With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale. 
 
 Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth 
 
 Had from his wakeful custody purloin 'd 
 
 The guarded gold : so eagerly the Fiend 
 
 O'er bog, or steep, thro' strait, rough, dense, or rare, 
 
 With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, 
 
 And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies : 
 
 At length a universal hubbub wild 
 
 Of stunning sounds and voices all confus'd, 
 
64 PAJSADISE LOST. [BOOK U 
 
 Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear 
 
 With loudest vehemence : thither he plies, 
 
 Undaunted to meet there whatever Pow'r 
 
 Or Spirit of the nethermost abyss 
 
 Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask 
 
 Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies 
 
 Bord'ring on light ; when straight behold the throne 
 
 Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 
 
 Wide on the wasteful deep ; with him enthron'd 
 
 Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things. 
 
 The consort of his reign ; and by them stood 
 
 Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name 
 
 Of Demogorgon ; Rumour next and Chance, 
 
 And Tumult and Confusion all embroil 'd, 
 
 And Discord with a thousand various mouths. 
 
 T' whom Satan turning boldly, thus : ye Pow'rs 
 And Spirits of this nethermost abyss, 
 Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, 
 With purpose to explore or to disturb 
 The secrets of your realm, but by constraint 
 Wand'ring this darksome desert, as my way 
 Lies through your spacious empire up to light, 
 Alone, and without guide, half lost I seek 
 ^Vhat readiest path leads where your gloomy bounda 
 Confine with heav'n ; or if some other place, 
 From your dominion won, th' ethereal king 
 Possesses lately, thither to arrive 
 I travel this profound : direct my course ; 
 Directed no mean recompence it brings 
 To your behoof, if I that region lost. 
 All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce 
 To her original darkness and your sway 
 (Which is my present journey) and once more 
 Erect the standard there of ancient Night ; 
 Vours be the advantage all, mine the revenge. 
 
 Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old, 
 With falt'ring speech and visage incompos'd, 
 Answer'd ; I know thee, stranger, who thou art, 
 That mighty leading Angel, who of late 
 
BOOK II.] PARADISE LOST. 65 
 
 Made head against heav'n's King, though overthrown 
 I saw and heard, for such a num'rous host 
 Fled not in silence through the frighted deep 
 With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, 
 Confusion worse confounded : and heav'n's gates 
 Pour'd out by millions her victorious bands 
 Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here 
 Keep residence, if all I can will serve 
 That little which is left so to defend, 
 Encroach'd on still through your intestine broils 
 Weak'ning the sceptre of old Night : first hell 
 Your dungeon stretching far and wide beneath; 
 Now lately heav'n and earth another world, 
 Hung x)'er my realm, link'd in a golden chain 
 To that side heav'n from whence your legions fell 
 If that way be your walk, you have not far ; 
 So much the nearer danger ; go and speed ; 
 Havoc and spoil and ruin are my gain. 
 
 He ceas'd ; and Satan stay'd not to reply, 
 But glad that now his sea should find a shore, 
 With fresh alacrity and force renew 'd 
 Springs upward like a pyramid of fire 
 Into the wild expanse, and through the shock 
 Of fighting elements, on all sides round • 
 
 Environ'd wins his way : harder beset 
 And more endanger'd, that when Argo pass'd 
 Through Bosporus betwixt the justling rocks * 
 Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunn'd 
 Charybdis, and by th' other whirlpool steer'd. 
 So he with difficulty and labour hard 
 Moved on, with difficulty and labour he ; 
 But he once past, soon after when man fell, 
 Strange alteration ! Sin and Death amain 
 Following his track, such was the will of heav*n 
 Pav'd after him a broad and beaten way 
 Over the dark abyss, whose boiling gulf 
 Tamely endur'd a bridge of wond'rous length 
 From hell continu'd reaching th' utmost orb 
 Of this frail world ; by which the spirits perverse 
 
66 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK U. 
 
 With easy intercourse pass to and fro 
 To tempt or punish mortals, except whom 
 God and good angels guard by special grace. 
 But now at last the sacred influence 
 Of light appears, and from the walls of heav'n 
 Shoots far into the bosom of dim night 
 A glimmering dawn ; here Nature first begins 
 Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire 
 As from her outmost works a broken foe 
 With tumult less, and with less hostile din, 
 That Satan with less toil, and now with ease 
 Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light, 
 And like a weather-beaten vessel holds 
 Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn ; 
 Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, 
 Weighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold 
 Far off th' empyreal heav'n, extended wide 
 In circuit, undetermin'd square or round, 
 With opal tow'rs and battlements adorn'd 
 Of living sapphire, once his native seat ; 
 And fast by, hanging in a golden chain 
 This pendent world, in bigness as a star 
 Of smallest magnitude close by the moon. 
 Thither full fraught with mischievous revenge 
 Accurs'd, and in a cursed hour he hies. 
 
 THE END OF THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
THE 
 
 THIRD BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 God sitting on his throne sees Satan flying towards this worlJ, then 
 newly created ; shows him to the Son who sat at his right hand ; 
 foretells the success of Satan in perverting mankind ; clears his 
 own justice and wisdom from all imputation, having created Man 
 free and able enough to have withstood his tempter ; yet declares 
 his purpose of grace towards him^ in regard he fell not' of his own 
 malice, as did Satan, but by him seduced. The Son of God ren- 
 ders praises to his Father for the manifestation »f his gracious 
 purpose towards Man ; but God again declares, that grace cannot 
 be extended towards Man without the satisfaction of divine 
 justice; Man hath offended the majesty of God by aspiring to 
 godhead, and, therefore, with all his progeny devoted to death 
 must die, unless some one can be found sufficient to answer lb? 
 his oiTence, and undergo his punishment. The Son of God 
 freely offers himself a ransom for Man : the Father accepts hinj, 
 ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all name« 
 in Heaven and Earth ; commands all the Angels to adore him } 
 they obey, and hymning to their harps in full choir, celcbr.ite the 
 Father and the Son, Meanwhile Satan alights upon the bare 
 convex of this world's outermost orb ; where wandering, he first 
 finds a place, since called the Limbo of Vanity ; what persona 
 and things fly up thither ; thence comes to the gate of Heaven, 
 described ascending by stairs, and the waters above the firma- 
 ment that flow about it ; his passage thence to the orb of the 
 Bun ; he finds there Uriel, the regent of that orb, but first chan 
 ges himself into the shape of a meaner Angel ; and pretending 
 a zealous desire to behold the new creation and Man whom God 
 had placed here, inquires of him the place of his habitation, and 
 is directed : alights first on mount Niphates. 
 
PARADISE LOST 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 Hail holy Light, offspring of heav*n, first-born, 
 
 Or of th' Eternal co-eternal beam; 
 
 May I express thee unblam'd ? since God is light, 
 
 And never but in unapproached light 
 
 Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 
 
 Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 
 
 Or hear'st thou rather pure ethereal stream, 
 
 Whose fountain who shall tell ? before the sun, 
 
 Before the heav'ns thou wert, and at the voice 
 
 Of God, as with a mantle didst invest 
 
 The rising world of waters dark and deep, 
 
 Won from the void and formless infinite. 
 
 Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, 
 
 Escap'd the Stygian pool, though long detain'd 
 
 In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight 
 
 Through utter and through middle darkness borne 
 
 With other notes than to th' Orphean lyre 
 
 I sung of Chaos and eternal Night, 
 
 Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down 
 
 The dark descent, and up to re-ascend. 
 
 Though hard and rare ; thee I revisit safe, 
 
 And feel thy sovereign vital lamp ; but thou 
 
 Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain 
 
 To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; 
 
 So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs, 
 
 Or dim suffusion veil'd. Yet not the more 
 
70 rARADlSE LOST. [boOK III. 
 
 Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt 
 
 Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill 
 
 Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief 
 
 Thee Sion, and the flow'ry brooks beneath, 
 
 That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow 
 
 Nightly I visit ; nor sometimes forget 
 
 ri'Ose other two equall'd with me in fate, 
 
 So were I equall'd with them in renown, 
 
 Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides, 
 
 And Tiresias and Phineus prophets old : 
 
 Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
 
 Harmonious numbers ; as the wakeful bird 
 
 Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid. 
 
 Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year 
 
 Seasons return, but not to me returns 
 
 Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn. 
 
 Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
 
 Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 
 
 But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 
 
 Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
 
 Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair 
 
 Presented with a universal blank 
 
 Of nature's works, to me expung'd and raz'd, 
 
 And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 
 
 So much the rather thou, celestial Light, 
 
 Shine inward, and the mind through all her pow'ra 
 
 Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence 
 
 Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell 
 
 Of things invisible to mortal sight. 
 
 Now had th' almighty Father from above. 
 From the pure empyrean where he sits 
 High throned above all height, bent down his eye, 
 His own works and their works at once to view ; 
 About him all the Sanctities of heav'n 
 Stood thick as stars, and from his sight receiv'd 
 Beatitude past utterance ; on his right 
 The radiant image of his glory sat, 
 His only Son ; on earth he first beheld 
 Our two first parents, yet the only two 
 
BOOK 111. J PARADISE LOST. 71 
 
 Of mankind, in the happy garden plac'd 
 
 Keaping immortal fruits of joy and love, 
 
 Uninterrupted joy, unrivall'd love 
 
 In blissful solitude; he then survey'd 
 
 Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there 
 
 Coasting the wall of heav'n on this side Night 
 
 In the dun air sublime, and ready now 
 
 To stoop with wearied wings and Avilling feet 
 
 On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd 
 
 Firm land imbosom'd, without firmament, 
 
 Uncertain which, in ocean or in air. 
 
 Him God beholding from his prospect high. 
 
 Wherein past, present, future he beholds, 
 
 Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake : 
 
 Only begotten Son, seest thou what rage 
 Transports our Adversary ? Avhom no bounds 
 Prescrib'd, no bars of hell, nor all the chains 
 Heap'd on him there, nor yet the main abyss 
 "Wide interrupt can hold ; so bent he seems 
 On desperate revenge, that shall redound 
 Upon his own rebellious head. And now 
 Through all restraint broke loose he wings his way 
 Not far oft' heav'n, in the precints of light, 
 Directly tow'rds the new created world, 
 And man there plac'd, with purpose to assay 
 If him by force he can destroy, or worse, 
 By some false guile pervert ; and shall pervert, 
 For man will hearken to his glozing lies, 
 And easily transgress the sole command, 
 Sole pledge of his obedience : so will fall, 
 He and his faithless progeny : Whose fault ? 
 Whose but his own ? Ingrate, he had of me 
 All he could have ; I made him just and right, 
 Sufficient to have stood, thoug-h free to fall. 
 Such I created all th' ethereal pov/'rs 
 And spirits, both them who stood, and them who fail'd 
 Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell 
 Not free, what proof could they have giv'n sincere 
 Df true allegiance, constant faith or love, 
 
72 FJiRADISE LOST. [bOOK ID 
 
 Where only what they needs must do appear'd, 
 
 Not what they would ? what praise could they receive ' 
 
 What pleasure I from such obedience paid, 
 
 When will and reason (reason also is choice) 
 
 Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil'd, 
 
 Made passive both, had serv'd necessity, 
 
 Not me ? They therefore as to right belong'd, 
 
 So were created, nor can justly accuse 
 
 Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, 
 
 As if predestination overrul'd 
 
 Their will, dispos'd by absolute decree 
 
 Or high foreknowledge ; they themselves decreed 
 
 Their own revolt, not I ; if I foreknew. 
 
 Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, 
 
 Which had no less prov'd certain unforeknown. 
 
 So without least impulse or shadow of fate 
 
 Or ought by me immutably foreseen. 
 
 They trespass, authors to themselves in all 
 
 Both what they judge and what they choose ; for so 
 
 I form'd them free, and free they must remain. 
 
 Till they inthral themselves ; I else must change 
 
 Their nature, and revoke the high decree 
 
 "Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd 
 
 Their freedom, they themselves ordain'd their fall , 
 
 The first sort by their own suggestion fell. 
 
 Self-tempted, self-deprav'd : Man falls, deceiv'd 
 
 By th' other first : Man therefore shall find grace, 
 
 The other none : in mercy and justice both. 
 
 Through heav'n and earth, so shall my glory excel: 
 
 But mercy first and last shall brightest shine. 
 
 Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fili'd 
 All heav'n, and in the bless'd Spirits elect 
 Sense of new joy ineffable diffus'd : 
 Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
 Most glorious ; in him all his Father shone 
 Substantially express'd, and in his face 
 Divine compassion visibly appear'd. 
 Love without end and without measure grace, 
 Which uttering thus he to his Father spake : 
 
 s^- 
 
BOOK III.] PARADISE LOST. 73 
 
 O Father, gracious was that word which clos'd 
 Thy sov'reign sentence, that Man should find grace ; 
 For which both heav'n and earth shall high extol 
 Thy praises, with th' innumerable sound 
 Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne 
 Encompass'd shall resound thee ever blest. 
 For should Man finally be lost, should Man, 
 Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest son, 
 Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join'd 
 With his own folly ? that be from thee far, 
 That far be from thee, Father, who art judge 
 Of all ihings made, and judgest only right. 
 Or shall the Adversary thus obtain 
 His end, and frustrate thine ? shall he fulfil 
 Bis malice, and thy goodness bring to naught, 
 Or proud return, though to his heavier doom. 
 Yet with revenge accomplish'd, and to hell 
 Draw after him the whole race of mankind 
 By him corrupted ? or wilt thou thyself 
 Abolish thy creation, and unmake 
 For him what for thy glory thou hast made? 
 So should thy goodness and thy greatness both 
 Be question'd, and blasphem'd without defence. 
 
 To whom the great Creator thus reply'd : 
 Son, in whom my soul hath chief delight, 
 Son of my bosom. Son who art alone 
 My word, my wisdom, and effectual might, 
 All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all 
 As my eternal purpose hath decreed : 
 Man shall not quite be lost, but sav'd who will, 
 Yet not of will in him, but grace in me 
 Freely vouchsaf'd; once more I will renew 
 His lapsed pow'rs, though forfeit, and inthrall'd 
 By sin, to foul exorbitant desires ; 
 Upheld by me yet once more he shall stand 
 On even ground against his mortal foe. 
 By me upheld, that he may know how frail 
 His fall'n condition is, and to me owe 
 All his deliverance ; and to none but me. 
 7 
 
74 PARADISE LOST, [boOK IlL 
 
 Some I have chosen of peculiar grace 
 Elect above the rest ; so is my will : 
 The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warn'd 
 Their sinful state, and to appease betimes 
 Th' incensed Deity, while offer'd grace 
 .«nvitcs ; for I will clear their senses dark, 
 What may suffice, and soften stony hearts 
 To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. 
 To pray'r, repentance, and obed'ence due, 
 Though but endeavour'd with sincere intent, 
 Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut. 
 And I will place within them as a guide 
 My umpire, conscience, whom if they will hear, 
 Light after light well us'd they shall attain, 
 And to the end persisting, safe arrive. 
 This my long sufferance and my day of grace 
 They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste ; 
 But hard be harden'd, blind be blinded more, 
 That they may stumble on, and deeper fall ; 
 And none but such from mercy 1 exclude. 
 But yet all is not done ; Man disobeying, 
 Disloyal breaks his fealty, and sins 
 Against the high supremacy of heaven, 
 Afiecting godhead, and so losing all, 
 To expiate his treason hath naught left, 
 But to destruction sacred and devote, 
 He with his whole posterity must die, 
 Die he, or justice must ; unless for him 
 Some other able, and as willing, pay 
 The rigid satisfaction, death for death. 
 Say heav'nly Pow'rs where shall we find such love ? 
 Which of ye will be mortal to redeem 
 lan's mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save ? 
 Dwell's in all heaven charity so dear ? 
 
 He ask'd, but all the heav'nly choir stood mute, 
 And silence was in heav'n; on man's behalf 
 Patron or intercessor none appear'd. 
 Much less that durst upon his own head draw 
 The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
 
BOOK III.] PARADISE LOST. 75 
 
 And now without redemption all mankind 
 Must have been lost, adjudg'-d to Death and hell 
 By doom severe, had not the Son of God, 
 In whom the fulness dwells of love divine, 
 His dearest mediation thus renew'd. 
 Father thy word is past, man shall find grace ; 
 And shall grace not find means, that finds her way, 
 The speediest of thy winged messengers, 
 To visit all thy creatures, and to all 
 Comes unprevented, unimplor'd, unsought? 
 Happy for man, so coming; he her aid 
 Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost ; 
 Atonement for himself or offering meet ; 
 Indebted and undone, hath none to bring ; 
 Behold me then ; me for him, life for life 
 I offer ; on me let thine anger fall ; 
 Account me Man ; I for his sake will leave 
 Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee 
 Freely put off, and for him lastly die 
 Well pleased ; on me let Death wreck all his rage • 
 Under his gloomy pow'r I shall not long 
 Lie vanquish'd ; thou hast giv'n me to possess 
 Life in myself for ever ; by thee I live. 
 Though now to Death I yield, and am his due 
 All that of me can die ; yet that debt paid. 
 Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave 
 His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul 
 For ever with corruption there to dwell ; 
 But I shall rise victorious, and subdue 
 My vanquisher, spoil'd of his vaunted spoil ; 
 Death his death's wound shall then receive, and &loop 
 Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarm'd. 
 I through the ample air in triumph high 
 Shall lead hell captive, maugre hell, and show 
 The Pow'rs of darkness bound. Thou at the sight 
 Pleas'd out of heaven shall look down and smile, 
 While by thee raisM I ruin all my foes, 
 Death last, and with his carcass glut the grave* 
 Then with the multitude of ray redeem'd 
 (3* 
 
76 PARADISE LOST. [liOOg III. 
 
 Shall enter heav'n long absent, and return, 
 Father, to see thy face wherein no cloud 
 Of anger shall remain, but peace assur'd 
 And reconcilement ; wrath shall be no more 
 Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire. 
 
 His words here ended, but his meek aspect 
 Silent yet spake, and breath 'd immortal love 
 To mortal men, above which only shone 
 Filial obedience : as a sacrifice 
 Glad to be offer'd he attends the will 
 Of his great Father. Admiration seiz'd 
 All heav'n, what this might mean, and whither tend 
 Wond'ring : but soon th' Almighty thus reply'd 
 
 O thou in heav'n and earth the only peace 
 Found out for mankind under wrath, O thou 
 My sole complacence ! well thou know'st how dear 
 To me are all thy works, nor man the least, 
 Though last created ; that for him I spare 
 Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save 
 By losing thee awhile, the whole race lost. 
 Thou therefore, whom thou only canst redeem, 
 Their nature also to thy nature join ; 
 And be thyself man among men on earth, 
 Made flesh, when time shall be, of virgin seed. 
 By wond'rous birth : be thou in Adam's room 
 The head of all mankind, though Adam's son. 
 As in him perish all men, so in thee, 
 As from a second root, shall be restor'd 
 As many as are restor'd, without thee none. 
 His crime makes guilty all his sons ; thy merit 
 Imputed shall absolve them who renounce 
 Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, 
 And live in thee transplanted, and from thee 
 Receive new life. So man, as is most just, 
 Shall satisfy for man, be judg'd and die, 
 And dying rise, and rising with him raise 
 His brethren, ransora'd with his own de^l Vfe 
 So heav'nly love shall outdo hellish hate, 
 Giving to death, and dying to redeem^ 
 
BOOK 1'H.J PARADISE LOST. 77 
 
 So Nearly to redeem what hellish hate 
 So easily destro3^'d and still destroys 
 In those who, when they may, accept not grace. 
 Nor shalt thou, by descending to assume 
 Man's nature, lessen or degrade thine own, 
 Because thou hast, though thron'd in highest bliss 
 Equal to God, and eqiially enjoying 
 Godlike fruitien, quitted all, to save 
 A world from utter loss, and hast been found 
 By merit more than birthright Son of God, 
 Found worthiest to he so by being good, 
 Faar more than great or high : because in thee 
 Love hath abounded more than glory abounds, 
 Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt 
 With thee thy manhood also to this throne ; 
 Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shtilt reign 
 Both God and man. Son both of God and man, 
 Anointed universa^l King : all power 
 I give thee ; reign for ever, and assume 
 Thy merits : under thee as head supreme. 
 Thrones, Princedoms, Pow'rs, Dominions I reduce : 
 All knees io thee shall bow, of them that bide 
 In heav'n, or earth, or under earth in hell. 
 When thou attended gloriously from heav'n 
 Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send 
 Thy summoning Arch- Angels to proclaim 
 Thy dread tribunal ; forthwith from all winds 
 The living, and forthwith the cited dead 
 Of all past ages, to the general doom 
 Shall hasten, such a peal shall rouse their sleep. 
 Then all thy saints assembled, thou shalt judge 
 Bad men and Angels : they arraign'd shall sink 
 Beneath thy sentence ; hell, her numbers full. 
 Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Meanwhile 
 The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring 
 New heav'n and earth, wherein the just shall dwell, 
 And after all their tribulations long 
 See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, 
 With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth. 
 7* 
 
78 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK UL 
 
 Then thou thy regal sceptre shall lay by, 
 
 For regal sceptre then no more shall need, 
 
 God shall be all in all. But all ye gods, 
 
 Adore him, who to compass all this dies ! 
 
 Adore the Son, and honour him as me. 
 
 No sooner had th' Almighty ceas'd, but all 
 
 The multitude of Angels with a shout 
 
 Loud as from nixinbers without number, sweet 
 
 As from blest voices uttering joy, heav'n rung 
 
 With jubilee, and loud hosannas fill'd 
 
 Th' eternal regions : lowly reverent 
 
 Tow'rds either throne they bow, and to the ground 
 
 With solemn adoration down they cast 
 
 Their crowns inwove with amaranth and gold ; 
 
 Immortal amaranth, a flow'r which once 
 
 In Paradise, fast by the tree of life, 
 
 Began to bloom ; but soon for Man's offence 
 
 To heav'n remov'd, where first it grew, there grows, 
 
 And flow'rs aloft shading the fount of life. 
 
 And where the river of bliss through midst of heav*n 
 
 Rolls o'er Elysian flow'rs her amber stream ; 
 
 With these that never fade, the Spirits elect 
 
 Bind their resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams, 
 
 Now in loose garlands thick throAvn off, the bright 
 
 Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 
 
 Im purpled with celestial roses smil'd. 
 
 Then crowned again, their golden harps they took, 
 
 Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by their side 
 
 Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet 
 
 Of charming symphony they introduce 
 
 Their sacred song, and waken raptures high ; 
 
 No voice exempt, no voice but well could join 
 
 Melodious part, such concord is in heav'n. 
 
 Thee, Father, first they sung Omnipotent, 
 Immutable, Immortal, Infinite, 
 Eternal King; the Author of all being. 
 Fountain of light, thyself invisible 
 Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sit*st 
 Thron'd inaccessible, but when thou shad'st 
 
BOOK III.] PARADISE LOST. 79 
 
 The full blaze of thy beams, and through a cloud 
 Drawn round about thee like a radiant shrine, 
 Dark with excessive bright thy skirts appear, 
 Yet dazzle heav'n that brightest seraphim 
 Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. 
 riiee next they sang of all creation first, 
 Begotten Son, divine similitude. 
 In whose conspicuous count'nance, without cloud 
 Made visible, th' Almighty Father shines. 
 Whom else no creature can behold ; on thee 
 Impress'd th' effulgence of his glory abides, 
 Transfus'd on thee his ample spirit rests. 
 He heav'n of heav'ns and all the pow'rs therein 
 By thee created, and by thee threw down 
 Th' aspiring dominations : thou that day 
 Thy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare, 
 Nor stop thy flaming chariot wheels that shook 
 Heav'ns everlasting frame while o'er the necks 
 Thou drov'st of warring angels disarray'd. 
 Back from pursuit thy pow'rs with loud acclaim 
 Thee only extoll'd Son of thy Father's might, 
 To execute fierce vengeance on his foes, 
 Not so on man : him through their malice fall'n, 
 . Father of mercy and grace, thou didst not doom 
 So strictly, but much more to pity incline : 
 No sooner did thy dear and only Son 
 Perceive thee purpos'd not to doom frail man 
 So strictly, but much more to pity inclin'd. 
 He to appease thy wrath, and end the strife 
 Of mercy and justice in thy face discern'd, 
 Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat 
 Second to thee, offer'd himself to die 
 For man's offence. O unexampled love. 
 Love no where to be found less than divine ! 
 Hail Son of God, Saviour of men thy name 
 Shall be the copious matter of my song 
 Henceforth, and never shall my harp thy praise 
 Forget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin. 
 Thus they in heav'n, above the starry snhere, 
 
30 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK 111 
 
 Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. 
 
 Meanwhile upon the firm opacous globe 
 
 Of this round world, whose first convex divides 
 
 The luminous inferior orbs enclos'd 
 
 From Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old, 
 
 Satan alighted walks : a globe far ofli' 
 
 It seem'd, now seems a boundless continent ; 
 
 Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night, 
 
 Starless expos'd, and ever-threat'ning storms 
 
 Of Chaos blust'ring round, inclement sky, 
 
 Save on that side which from the wall of heav'n, 
 
 Though distant far, some small reflection gains 
 
 Of glimm'ring air, less vex'd with tempest loud; 
 
 Here walk'd the fiend at large in spacious field. 
 
 As when a vulture on Imaus bred. 
 
 Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds. 
 
 Dislodging from a region scarce of prey 
 
 To gorge the flesh of laifibs, or yeanling kids, 
 
 On hills where flocks are fed, flies tow'rd the springs 
 
 Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams ; 
 
 But in his way lights on the barren plains 
 
 Of Sericana, where Chinesus drive 
 
 With sails and wind their cany wagons light : 
 
 So on this windy sea of land, the fiend • 
 
 Walk'd up and down alone, bent on his prey ; 
 
 Alone, for other creature in this place 
 
 Living or lifeless to be found was none ; 
 
 None yet, but store hereafter from the earth 
 
 Up hither like aerial vapours flew 
 
 Of all things transitory and vain, when sin 
 
 With vanity had fill'd the works of men ; 
 
 Both all things vain, and all who in vain things 
 
 Built their fond hopes of glory or lasting fame, 
 
 Or happiness in this or th' other life : 
 
 All who have their reward on earth, the fruits 
 
 Of painful superstition and blind zeal, 
 
 Naught seeking but the praise of men, here find 
 
 Fit retribution, empty as their deeds ; 
 
 All th' unaccomplish'd works of Nature's hand, 
 
BOOKni.] PARADISE LOST. 81 
 
 Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mix'd 
 
 Dissolv'd on earth, fleet hither, and in vain, 
 
 Till final dissolution, wander here, 
 
 Not in the neighb'ring- moon, as some have dream'd ' 
 
 Those argent fields more likely habitants. 
 
 Translated saints, or middle spirits hold 
 
 Betwixt th' angelical and human kind. 
 
 Hither of ill-join'd sons and daughters born 
 
 First from the ancient world those giants came 
 
 With many a vain exploit, though then renown'd 
 
 The builders next of Babel on the plain 
 
 Of Sennaar, and still with vain design 
 
 New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build : 
 
 Others came single ; he who to be deem'd 
 
 A God, leap'd fondly into JEtna. flames, 
 
 Empedoclcs ; and he who to enjoy 
 
 Plato's Elysium, leap'd into the sea, 
 
 Cleombrotus : and many more too long, 
 
 Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars. 
 
 White, black, and grey, with all their trumpery. 
 
 Here pilgrims roam, that stray'd so far to seek 
 
 In Golgotha him dead, who lives in heaven; 
 
 And they who to be sure of Paradise 
 
 Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, 
 
 Or in Franciscan think to pass disguis'd ; 
 
 They pass the planets sev'n, and pass the fix'd, 
 
 And that crystalline sphere^ whose balance weighs 
 
 The trepidation talk'd, and that first mov'd : 
 
 And now saint Peter at heav'n's wicket seems 
 
 To wait them with his keys, and now at foot 
 
 Of heav'n's ascent they lift their feet, when lo 
 
 A violent cross wind from either coast 
 
 Blows them transverse ten thousand leagues awry 
 
 Into the devious air; then might ye see 
 
 * "And that crystalline sphere," &c. an allusion to the Ptole- 
 maic notion of a trepidation or libration in the crystalline hea- 
 ven, caused by the primuvi mobile^ or first-moved and first mover. 
 
82 PAHADISE LOST. [bOOK III 
 
 Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers tost 
 
 And fiutter'd into rags, then reliques, beads, 
 
 Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, 
 
 The sport of w4nds : all these upwhirl'd aloft 
 
 Fly o'er the backside of the world far off 
 
 Into a limbo large and broad, since call'd 
 
 The paradise of fools, to few unknown 
 
 Long after, now unpeopled, and untrod. 
 
 All this dark globe the fiend found as he pass'd, 
 
 And long he wander'd, till at last a gleam 
 
 Of dawning light turn'd thither-ward in haste 
 
 His travell'd steps : far distant he descries 
 
 Ascending by degrees magnificent 
 
 Up to the wall of heav'n, a structure high ; 
 
 At top whereof, but far more rich appear'd 
 
 The work as of a kingly palace gate, 
 
 With frontispiece of diamond and gold 
 
 Embellish'd : thick with sparkling orient gems 
 
 The portal shone, inimitabk on earth 
 
 By model, or by shading pencil drawn. 
 
 The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw 
 
 Angels ascending and descending, bands 
 
 Of guardians bright, when he from Esau fled 
 
 To Padan-Aram, in the field of Luz 
 
 Dreaming by night under the open sky. 
 
 And waking cry'd. This is the gate of heav'n. 
 
 Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 
 
 There always, but drawn up to heav'n sometimes 
 
 Viewless ; and undejtieath a bright sea flow'd 
 
 Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon 
 
 Who after came from earth, sailing arriv'd 
 
 Wafted by angels, or flew o'er the lake 
 
 Kapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. 
 
 The stairs were then let down, whether to dare 
 
 The fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate 
 
 His sad exclu^sion from the doors of bliss : 
 
 Direct against which open'd from beneath, 
 
 Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise, 
 
 A passage down to th' earth, a passage wide, 
 
BOOK 1II._ PARADISE LOST. 83 
 
 Wider by far than that of after times 
 
 Over mount Sion ; and, though that were large, 
 
 Over the promised land, to God so dear. 
 
 By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, 
 
 On high behests his angels to and fro 
 
 Pass'd frequent, and his eye with choice regard, 
 
 From Paneas the fount of Jordan's flood 
 
 To Beersheba, where the Holy Land 
 
 Borders on Egypt, and the Arabian shore : 
 
 So wide the op'ning seem'd, where bounds were set 
 
 To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. 
 
 Satan from hence, now on the lower stair 
 
 That scal'd by steps of gold to heaven gate. 
 
 Looks down with wonder at the sudden view 
 
 Of all this world at once. As when a scout 
 
 Through dark and desert ways with peril gone 
 
 All night, at last by break of cheerful dawn 
 
 Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill, 
 
 Which to his eye discovers unaware 
 
 The goodly prospect of some foreign land 
 
 First seen, or some renown'd metropolis 
 
 With glist'ring spires and pinnacles adorn'd, 
 
 Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams ; 
 
 Such wonder seiz'd, though after heaven seen, 
 
 The spirit malign, but much more envy seiz'd. 
 
 At sight of all this world beheld so fair. 
 
 Round he surveys (and well might, where he stood 
 
 So high above the circling canopy 
 
 Of night's extended shade) from eastern point 
 
 Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears 
 
 Andromeda far ofl* Atlantic seas 
 
 Beyond th' horizon ; then from pole to pole 
 
 He views in breadth, and v/ithout longer pause 
 
 Downright into the world's first region throws 
 
 His flight precipitant, and winds with ease 
 
 Through the pure marble air, his oblique way 
 
 Amongst innumerable stars, that shone 
 
 Stars distant, but nigh hand seem'd other worlds ; 
 
 Oi other worlds they seem'd, or happy isles, 
 
84 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK 111 
 
 Like those Hesperian gardens fam'd of old, 
 
 Fortunate fields, and groves, and flow'ry vales, 
 
 Thrice happy isles, but who dwelt happy there 
 
 He stay'd not to inquire : above them all 
 
 The golden sun in splendour likest heav'n 
 
 Allur'd his eye ; thither his course he bends 
 
 Through the calm firmament (but up or down, 
 
 By centre, or eccentric, hard to tell, 
 
 Or longitude,) where the great luminary 
 
 Aloof the vulgar constellations thick. 
 
 That from his lordly eye keep distance due. 
 
 Dispenses light from far ; they as they move 
 
 Their starry dance in numbers that compute 
 
 Days, months, and years, tow'rds his all-cheering 
 
 lamp 
 Turns swift their various motions, or are turn'd 
 By his magnetic beam, that gently warms 
 The universe, and to each inward part 
 With gentle penetration, though unseen. 
 Shoots invisible virtue ev'n to the deep ; 
 So v/ondrously was set his station bright. 
 There lands the fiend, a spot like which perhaps 
 Astronomer in the sun's lucent orb 
 Through his glaz'd optic tube yet never saw. 
 The place he found beyond expression bright, 
 Compar'd with aught on earth, metal of stone ; 
 Not all parts like, but all alike inform'd 
 With radiant light, as glowdng iron with fire ; 
 If metal, part seem'd gold, part silver clear ; 
 If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite, 
 Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone 
 In Aaron's breast-plate, and a stone besides 
 Imagin'd rather oft than elsewhere seen, 
 That stone, or like to that which here below 
 Philosophers in vain so long have sought. 
 In vain, though by their pow'rful art they bind 
 Volatile hermes, and call up unbound 
 In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, 
 Drain'd through a limbec to his native form. 
 
BOOK ni.] PARADISE LOST. S5 
 
 What wonder then if fields and regions here 
 Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run 
 Potable gold, when with one virtuous touch 
 Th' arch-chemic sun, so far from us remote, 
 Produces, with terrestrial humour mix'd, 
 ^lere in the dark so many precious things 
 )f colour glorious, and effect so rare ? 
 Here matter new to gaze the Devil met 
 Undazzled ; far and wide his eye commands ; 
 For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, 
 But all sunshine, as when his beams at noon 
 Culminate from th' equator, as they now 
 Shot upward still direct, whence no way round 
 Shadow from body opaque can fall ; and th' air 
 No where so clear, sharpen'd his visual ray 
 To objects distant far, whereby he soon 
 Saw within ken a glorious angel stand. 
 The same whom John saw also in the sun : 
 His back was turn'd, but not his brightness hid; 
 Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar 
 Circled his head, nor less his locks behind 
 Illustrious on his shoulders fledge with wings 
 Lay waving round ; on some great charge employ*d 
 He seem'd, or fix'd in cogitation deep. 
 Glad was the spirit impure, as now in hope 
 To find who might direct his wandering flight 
 To Paradise the happy seat of man, 
 His journey's end and our beginning wo, 
 But first he casts to change his proper shape, 
 Which else might work him danger or delay ; 
 And now a stripling cherub he appears. 
 Not of the prime, yet such as in his face 
 Youth smil'd celestial, and to every limb 
 Suitable grace diflfus'd, so well he feign'd : 
 Under a coronet his flowing hair 
 In curls on either cheek play'd ; wings he wore 
 Of many a colour'd plume sprinkled with gold, 
 His habit fit for speed succinct, and held 
 Before his decent steps a silver wand. 
 8 
 
86 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK III 
 
 He drew not nigh unheard ; the angel bright, 
 
 Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turn'd, 
 
 Admonish'd by his ear, and straight was known 
 
 Th' arch -angel Uriel, one of the seven 
 
 Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, 
 
 Stand ready at command, and ere his eyes 
 
 That run through all the heav'n's, or down to th' earth 
 
 Bear his swift errands over moist and dry, 
 
 O'er sea and land : him Satan thus accosts : 
 
 Uriel, for thou of those seven spirits that stand 
 In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, 
 The first art wont his great authentic will 
 Interpreter through highest heav'n, to bring, 
 Where all his sons thy embassy attend ; 
 And here art likeliest by supreme decree 
 Like honour to obtain, and as his eye 
 To visit oft this new creation round ; 
 Unspeakable desire to see, and know 
 All these his wondrous works, but chiefly man 
 His chief delight, and favour, him for whom 
 All these this work so wondrous he ordain'd. 
 Hath brought me from the choirs of cherubim 
 Alone thus wand'ring. Brightest seraph, tell 
 In which of all these shining orbs hath man 
 His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none, 
 But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell 
 That I may find him, and with secret gaze 
 Or open admiration him behold, 
 On whom the great Creator hath bestow 'd 
 Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces pourVI 
 That both in him and all things, as is meet 
 The universal Maker we may praise ; 
 Who justly hath driv'n out his rebel foes 
 To deepest hell, and to repair that loss 
 Created this new happy race of men 
 To serve him better : wise are all his ways 
 
 So spake the false dissembler unperceiv'd 
 For neither man nor angel can discern 
 Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks 
 
BOOK III.] PARADISE LOST. 87 
 
 Invisible, except to God alone, 
 
 By his permissive will, through heav'n and earth: 
 
 And oft though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps 
 
 At Wisdom's gate, and to simplicity 
 
 Kesigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill 
 
 Where no ill seems : which now for once beguil'd 
 
 Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held 
 
 The sharpest sighted spirit of all in heav'n ; 
 
 Who to the fraudulent impostor foul, 
 
 [n his uprightness answer thus return'd : 
 
 Fair angel, thy desire which tends to know 
 The works of God, thereby to glorify 
 The great Work-master, leads to no excess 
 That reaches blame, but rather m.erits praise 
 The more it seems excess, that led thee hither 
 From thy empyreal mansion thus alone. 
 To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps 
 Contented with report hear only in heav'n : 
 For wonderful indeed are all his works, 
 Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all 
 Had in remembrance always with delight; 
 But what created mind can comprehend 
 Their number, or the wisdom infinite 
 That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep' 
 I saw when at his word the formless mass, 
 This world's material mould, came to a heap : 
 Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar 
 Stood rul'd, stood vast infinitude confin'd 
 Till at his second bidding darkness fled, 
 Light shone, and order from disorder sprung : 
 Swift to their several quarters hasted then 
 The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire ; 
 And this ethereal quintessence of heav'n 
 Flew upward, spirited with various forms, 
 That roll'd orbicular, and turn'd to stars 
 Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move ; 
 Each had his place appointed, each his course ; 
 The rest in circuit walls this universe. 
 Look downward on that globe, whose hither side 
 
88 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK HI. 
 
 With light from hence, though but reflected, shines. 
 That place is earth, the seat of man, that light 
 His day, which else as th' other hemisphere 
 Night would invade : but there the neighb'ring moon 
 (So call that opposite fair star) her aid 
 Timely interposes, and her monthly round 
 Still ending, still renewing, through mid heav'n, 
 With borrow'd light her countenance triform 
 Hence fills and empties to enlighten th' earth, 
 And in her pale dominion checks the night. 
 That spot to which I point, is Paradise, 
 Adam's abode, those lofty shades his bower. 
 Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires. 
 Thus said, he turn'd ; and Satan bowing low. 
 As to superior spirits is wont in heav'n, 
 Where honour due and reverence none neglects, 
 Took leave, and tow'rd the coast of earth beneath, 
 Down from th' ecliptic, sped with hop'd success. 
 Throws his steep flight in many an airy wheel, 
 Nor stay'd till on Niphates top he lights. 
 
 BND OS BOOK IHiKD. 
 
THE 
 
 FOURTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMIiJNr. 
 
 Utan now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he must 
 now attempt the bold enteriifisc whicii he undertook alone against 
 God and man, falls into many doubts with himself, and many 
 passions ; fear, envy, and despair : but at length confirms him- 
 self in evil, journeys on to Paradise whose outward prospect and 
 situation is described, overleaps the bounds, sits in the shape of 
 a cormorant on the tree of life,as highest in the garden, to look 
 about him. The garden described ; Satan's first sight of Adam 
 and Eve ; his wonder at their excellent form and happy state, 
 but with resolution to work their fall ; overhears their discourse, 
 thence gathers that the tree of knowledge was forbidden them 
 to eat of, under penalty of death ; and thereon intends to found 
 his temptation, by seducing them to transgress : then leave? 
 them awhile, to know further of their state by some other means. 
 Meanwhile Uriel descending on a sunbeam warns Gabriel, who 
 had in charge the gate of Paradise, that some evil spirit had es- 
 caped the deep, and passed at noon by his sphere in the shape of 
 a good angel down to Paradise, discovered after by his furious 
 gestures in the mount. Gabriel promises to find him ere morn- 
 ing. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of going to 
 their rest : their bower described ; their evening worship. Ga- 
 briel drawing forth his bands of night-watch to walk the round 
 of Paradise, appoints two strong angels to Adam's bower, lest 
 the evil spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Eve 
 sleeping : there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her in 
 a dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel ; by whom 
 questioned, he scornfully answers, prepares resistance, but hin 
 dered by a sign from Heaven, flies out of Paradise. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 O FOR that warning voice, which he who saw 
 
 Th' Apocalypse heard cry in heav'n aloud, 
 
 Then when the dragon, put to second rout, 
 
 Came furious down to be reveng'd on men, 
 
 Wo to the inhabitants on earth ! that now. 
 
 While time was, our first parents had been warn*d 
 
 The coming of their secret foe, and 'scap'd. 
 
 Haply so 'scap'd his mortal snare : for now 
 
 Satan, now first inflam'd with rage, came down, 
 
 The tempter ere th' accuser of mankind, 
 
 To wreck on innocent frail man his loss 
 
 Of that first battle, and his flight to hell ; 
 
 Yet not rejoicing in his speed, though bold 
 
 Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast, 
 
 Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth 
 
 Now rolling boils in his tumultuous breast, 
 
 And like a devilish engine back r'^coils 
 
 Upon himself; horror and doubt distract 
 
 His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir 
 
 The hell within him ; for within him hell 
 
 He brings, and round about him, nor from hell 
 
 One step no more than from himself can fly 
 
 By change of place : now concience wakes despair 
 
 That slumber'd, wakes the bitter memory 
 
 Of what he was, what is, and what must be 
 
 Worse ; of worse deeds worse suff 'rings must ensue. 
 
92 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IV 
 
 Sometimes tow'rds Eden, which now in his view 
 Lay pleasant, his griev'd look he fixes sad ; 
 Sometimes tow'rds heav'n and the full-blazing sun. 
 Which now sat high in his meridian tower: 
 Then much revolving, thus in sighs began : 
 
 O thou that with surpassing glory crown'd, 
 Look'st from thy sole dominion like the God 
 Of this new world ; at whose sight all the stars 
 Hide their diminish'd heads ; to thee I call, 
 But with no friendly voice, and add thy name 
 
 Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, 
 That bring to my remembrance from what state 
 
 1 fell, how glorious once above thy sphere ; 
 Till pride and worse ambition threw me down 
 Warring in heav'n against heav'n's matchless King' 
 \h wherefore ! he deserv'd no such return 
 
 From me, whom he created what I was 
 In that bright eminence, and with his good 
 Upbraided none ; nor was his service hard. 
 What could be less than to aflbrd him praise, 
 The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, 
 How due ! yet ail his good prov'd ill in me, 
 And wrought but malice ; lifted up so high 
 I 'sdain'd subjection ; and thought one step higher 
 Would set me highest, and in a moment quit 
 The debt immense of endless gratitude. 
 So burdensome still paying, still to owe, 
 Forgetful what from him I still receiv'd, 
 And understood not that a gra-teful mind 
 B}^ owing owes not, but still pays, at once 
 Indebted and discharg'd ; what burden then ? 
 
 ) had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd 
 
 le some inferior angel, I had stood 
 Then happy ; no unbounded hope had rais'd 
 Ambition. Yet why not ? some other power 
 As great might have aspir'd, and me, though mean, 
 Drawn to his part ; but other pow'rs as great 
 Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within, 
 Or from without, to all temptations arm'd. 
 
BOOK nr.J PARADISE LOST. ' 93 
 
 Hadst thou the same free will and pow'r to stard? 
 
 Thou hadst : whom hast thou then or what t' accuse, 
 
 But heav'n's free love dealt equally to all ? 
 
 Be then his love accurs'd, since love or hate 
 
 To me alike, it deals eternal wo. 
 
 Nay curs'd be thou ; since against his, thy will 
 
 Chose freely what it now so justly rues. 
 
 Me miserable ! which way shall I fly 
 
 Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? 
 
 Which way I fly is hell : myself am hell : 
 
 And in the lowest deep, a lower deep 
 
 Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide, 
 
 To which the hell I suffer seems a heav'n. 
 
 O then at last relent : is there no place 
 
 Left for repentance, none for pardon left ? 
 
 None left but by submission ; and that word 
 
 Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame 
 
 Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduc'd 
 
 With other promises and other vaunts 
 
 Than to submit, boasting I could subdue 
 
 Th' Omnipotent. Ay me ! they little know 
 
 How dearly I abide that boast so vain, 
 
 Under what torments inwardly I groan, 
 
 While they adore me on the throne of hell. 
 
 With diadem and sceptre high advanc'd, 
 
 The lower still I fall, only supreme 
 
 In misery ; such joy, ambition finds. 
 
 But say I could repent, and could obtain 
 
 By act of grace my former state : how soon 
 
 Would height recal high thoughts, how soon unsay 
 
 What feign'd submission swore ? ease would recant 
 
 Vows made in pain, as violent and void : 
 
 or never can true reconcilement grow 
 Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep : 
 Which would but lead me to a worse relapse 
 And heavier fall : so should I purchase dear 
 Short intermission, bought with double smart. 
 This knows my punisher : therefore as far 
 From granting he, as I from begging peace : m 
 
94 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IV 
 
 All hope excluded thus, behold instead 
 
 Of us out-cast, exil'd, his new delight 
 
 Mankind created, and for him this world. 
 
 So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, 
 
 Farewell remorse : all good to me is lost 
 
 Evil be thou my good ; by thee at least 
 
 Divided empire with heav'n'.s King I hold, 
 
 By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign ; 
 
 As man ere long, and this new world shall know. 
 
 Thus while he spake, each passion dimm'd his fac» 
 Thrice chang'd with pale, ire, envy, and despair ; 
 Which marr'd his borrow'd visage, and betray 'd 
 Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld ; 
 For heav'nly minds from such distempers foul 
 Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware, 
 Each perturbation smooth'd with outward calm, 
 Artificer of fraud ; and was the first 
 That practis'd falsehood under saintly show. 
 Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge; 
 Yet not enough had practis'd to deceive 
 Uriel once warn'd ; whose eye pursu'd him dowi» 
 The way he went, and on th' Assyrian mount 
 Saw him disfigur'd more than could befal 
 Spirit of happy sort ; his gestures fierce 
 He mark'd, and mad demeanour, then alone, 
 As he suppos'd, all unobserv'd, unseen. 
 So on he fares, and to the border comes 
 Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, 
 Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green. 
 As with a rural mound, the champaign head 
 Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides 
 With thicket overgcown, grotesque and wild, 
 Access deny'd : and over head up grew 
 Insuperable height of loftiest shade. 
 Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, 
 A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend 
 Shade above shade, a woody theatre 
 Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops 
 The verd'rous wall of Paradise up sprung : 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE LOST. 95 
 
 Which to our general sire gave prospect large 
 
 Into his nether empire neighb'ring round. 
 
 And higher than that wall, a circling row 
 
 Of goodliest trees loaden with fairest fruit, 
 
 Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue, 
 
 Appear'd, with gay enammel'd colours mix'd : 
 
 On which the sun more glad impress'd his beams 
 
 Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, 
 
 When God hath show'r'd the earth ; so lovely seem'd 
 
 That landscape : And of pure, now purer air 
 
 Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires 
 
 Vernal delight and joy, able to driA^e 
 
 All sadness but despair : now gentle gales 
 
 Fanning their odoriferous wings dispense 
 
 Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
 
 Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail 
 
 Beyond the Cape of Hope^ and now are past 
 
 Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow 
 
 Sabean odours from the spicy shore 
 
 Of Araby the blest, with such delay 
 
 Well pleased they slack their course, and many a 
 
 league 
 Gheer'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles : 
 So entertain'd these odorous sweets the fiend 
 Who came their bane, though with them better pleas *d 
 Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume 
 That drove him, though enamour'd, from the spouse 
 Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent 
 From Media post to Eg^^pt, there fast bound. 
 Now to th' ascent of that steep savage hill, 
 Satan had journey'd on, pensive and slow ; 
 But further way found none, so thick entwin'd, 
 As one continued brake, the undergrowth 
 Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplex'd 
 All path of man or beast that pass'd that way : 
 One gate there only was, and that look'd east 
 On th' other side : which when th' arch-felon saw, 
 Due entrance he disdain'd, and in contempt, 
 At one slight bound high overleap'd all bounJ 
 
96 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK IV. 
 
 Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within 
 
 Lights on his feet. As when a prowling wolf, 
 
 Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey, 
 
 Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve, 
 
 In hurdled cotes, amid the field secure. 
 
 Leaps o'er the fence with ease into the fold : 
 
 Or as a thief bent to unhoard the cash 
 
 Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, 
 
 Cross-barr'd and bolted fast, fear no assault, 
 
 In at the window climbs, or o'er the tiles : 
 
 So clomb this first grand thief into God's fold : 
 
 So since into his church lewd hirelings climb. 
 
 Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life. 
 
 The middle tree, and highest there that grew. 
 
 Sat like a cormorant ; yet not true life 
 
 Thereby regain'd, but sat devising death 
 
 To them who liv'd ; nor on the virtue thought 
 
 Of that life giving plant, but only us'd 
 
 For prospect, what well us'd, had been the pledge 
 
 Of immortality. So little knows 
 
 Any but God alone, to value right 
 
 The good before him, but perverts best things 
 
 To worst abuse, or to their meanest use. 
 
 Beneath him with new wonder now he views 
 
 To all delight of human sense expos'd. 
 
 In narrow room Nature's whole wealth, yea more, 
 
 A heav'n on earth : for blissful Paradise 
 
 Of God the garden was, by him in th' east 
 
 Of Eden planted ; Eden stretch'd her line 
 
 From Auran eastward to the royal towers 
 
 Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings. 
 
 Or where the sons of Eden long before 
 
 Dwelt in Telassar : in this pleasant soil 
 
 His far more pleasant garden God ordain'd ; 
 
 Out of the fertile ground he caus'd to grow 
 
 All trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste ; 
 
 And all amid them stood the tree of life, 
 
 High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit 
 
 Of vegetable gold j and next to life. 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE LOST. 97 
 
 Our death, the tree of knowledge grew fast by, 
 
 Knowledge of good bought dear by knowing ill. 
 
 Southward through Eden went a river large, 
 
 Nor chang'd his course, but through the shaggy hill 
 
 Pass'd underneath ingulf 'd; for God had thrown 
 
 That mountain as his garden mould high rais'd 
 
 Upon the rapid current, which through veins 
 
 Of porous earth, with kindly thirst up drawn, 
 
 Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill 
 
 Water'd the garden ; thence united fell 
 
 Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, 
 
 Which from his darksome passage now appears, 
 
 And now divided into four main streams, 
 
 Runs diverse, wand'ring many a famous realm 
 
 And country, whereof here needs no account ; 
 
 But rather to tell how, if art could tell. 
 
 How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks. 
 
 Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold, 
 
 With mazy error under pendent shades 
 
 Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed 
 
 Flow'rs, worthy of Paradise, which not nice art 
 
 In beds and curious knots, but nature boon 
 
 Pour'd forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain, 
 
 Both where the morning sun first warmly smote 
 
 The open field, and where the unpierc'd shade 
 
 Imbrown'd the noon-tide bow'rs : thus was this place 
 
 A happy rural seat of various view ; 
 
 Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and 
 
 balm; 
 Others whose fruit burnish 'd with golden rind 
 Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true. 
 If true, here only, and of delicious taste : 
 Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 
 Grazing the tender herb, were interpos'd, 
 Or palmy hillock ; or the flow'ry lap 
 Of some irriguous valley spread her store, 
 Flow'rs of all hue, and without thorn the rose : 
 Another side, umbrageous grots and caves 
 Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine 
 9 
 
9S PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IV 
 
 Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps 
 
 Luxuriant ; meanwhile murm'ring waters fall 
 
 Do\vn the slope hills dispers'd, or in a lake, 
 
 That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd 
 
 Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams. 
 
 The birds their choir apply : airs, vernal airs, 
 
 Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune 
 
 The trembling leaves, while universal Pan 
 
 Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, 
 
 Led on th' eternal spring. Not that fair field 
 
 Of Enna, where Proserpine gathering flowers, 
 
 Herself a fairer flow'r by gloomy Dis 
 
 Was gather'd, which cost Ceres all that pain 
 
 To seek her through the world ; nor that sweet grov6 
 
 Of Daphne by Orontes, and th' inspir'd 
 
 Castalian spring, might with this Paradise 
 
 Of Eden strive ; nor that Nyseian isle 
 
 Girt with the river Triton, where old Cham, 
 
 Whom Gentiles Ammon call and Lybian Jove, 
 
 Hid Amalthea and her florid son 
 
 Young Bacchus from his step-dame Rhea's eye ; 
 
 Nor where Abassin kings their issue guard, 
 
 Mount Amara, though this by some suppos'd 
 
 True Paradise under the Ethiop line 
 
 By Nilus^ head, enclos'd with shining rock, 
 
 A whole day's journey high, but wide remote 
 
 From this Assyrian garden, where the fiend 
 
 Saw undelighted all delight, all kind 
 
 Of living creatures new to sight and strange ; 
 
 Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall. 
 
 Godlike erect, with native honour clad 
 
 In naked majesty, seem'd lords of all, 
 
 And worthy seem'd : for in their looks divine, 
 
 The image of their glorious Maker, shone 
 
 Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure, 
 
 (Severe but in true filial freedom plac'd) 
 
 Whence true authority and men ; though both 
 
 Not equal, as their sex not equal seem'd : 
 
 For contemplation he, and valour form'd ; 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE LOST. 99 
 
 For softness slie, and sweet attractive grace ; 
 
 He for God only, she for God in him : 
 
 His fair large front and eye sublime declar'd 
 
 Absolute rule; and hyacinthine locks ' 
 
 Round from his parted forelock manly hung 
 
 Clust'ring, but not beneath his shoulders broad : 
 
 She as a veil down to the slender waist 
 
 Her unadorned golden tresses wore 
 
 Dishevel'd, but in wanton ringlets wav'd 
 
 As the vine curls her tendrils, which imply 'd 
 
 Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway, 
 
 And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd. 
 
 Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, 
 
 And sweet reluctant amorous delay. 
 
 Nor those mysterious parts were then conceal'd ; 
 
 Then was not guilty shame, dishonest shame 
 
 Of nature's works ; honour dishonourable. 
 
 Sin-bred, how have ye troubled all mankind 
 
 With shows instead, mere shows of seeming pure, 
 
 And banish'd from man's life his happiest life, 
 
 Simplicity and spotless innocence ! 
 
 So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight 
 
 Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill : 
 
 So hand in hand they pass'd, the loveliest pair 
 
 That ever since in love's embraces met; 
 
 Adam the goodliest man of men since born 
 
 His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve. 
 
 Under a tuft of shade that on a green 
 
 Stood whisp'ring soft, by a fresh fountain side 
 
 They sat them down ; and after no more toil 
 
 Jf their sweet gard'ning labour, than suffic'd 
 
 To recommend cool zephyr, and made ease 
 
 More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite 
 
 More grateful, to their supper fruits they fell, 
 
 Nectarine fruits which the compliant boughs 
 
 Yielded them, side-long as they sat recline 
 
 On the soft downy bank damask'd with flow'rs 
 
 The savoury pulp they chew, and in the rind 
 
 Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming stream . 
 
100 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IV 
 
 Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles 
 Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems 
 Fair couple, link'd in happy nuptial league, 
 Alome as they. About them frisking play'd 
 All beasts of th' earth, since wild, and of all chase 
 In wood or wilderness, forest or den ; 
 Sporting the lion ramp'd, and in his paw 
 Dandled the kid ; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, 
 Gambol'd before them ; th' unwieldly elephant, 
 To make them mirth, us'd all his might, and wreath d 
 His lithe proboscis ; close the serpent sly 
 Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine 
 His braided train, and of his fatal guile 
 Gave proof unheeded; others on the grass 
 Couch'd, and now fiU'd with pasture gazing sat, 
 Or bedward ruminating ; for the sun 
 Declin'd was hasting now with prone career 
 To the ocean isles, and in th' ascending scale 
 Of heav'n, the stars that usher evening rose : 
 When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood, 
 Scarce thus at length fail'd speech recover'd sad. 
 O hell ! what do mine eyes with grief behold ! 
 Into our room of bliss thus high advanc'd 
 Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps, 
 Not spirits, yet to heav'nly spirits bright 
 Little inferior : whom my thoughts pursue 
 With wonder, and could love, so lively shines 
 In them divine resemblance, and such grace 
 The hand that form'd them on their shape hath pour d. 
 Ah gentle pair, ye little think how nigh 
 Your change approaches, when all these delights 
 Will vanish and deliver ye to wo, 
 More wo, the more your taste is now of joy ; 
 Happy, but for so happy ill secur'd 
 Long to continue, and this high seat your heav n 
 111 fenced for heaven to keep out such a foe 
 As now is enterM ; yet no purpos'd foe 
 To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn, 
 Though I unpitied : league with you I seek, 
 
l^OOK IV.] PARADISE LOST. l(^lr 
 
 And mutual amity so strait, so close, 
 
 That I with you must dwell, or you with me 
 
 Henceforth : my dwelling haply may not please, 
 
 Like this fair Paradise, your sense, yet such 
 
 Accept your Maker's work ; he gave it me, 
 
 Which I as freely give ; hell shall unfold, 
 
 To entertain you two, her widest gates, 
 
 And send forth all her kings ; there will be room, 
 
 Not like these narrow limits, to receive 
 
 Your numerous offspring; if no better place, 
 
 Thank him who puts me loth to this revenge 
 
 On you who wrong me not, for him who wronged. 
 
 And should I at your harmless innocence 
 
 Melt, as I do, yet public reason just, 
 
 Honour and empire with revenge enlarg'd. 
 
 By conq'ring this new world, compels me now 
 
 To do what else though damn'd I should abhor. 
 
 So spake the fiend, and with necessity, 
 The tyrant's plea excus'd his devilish deeds. 
 Then from his lofty stand on that high tree 
 Dov>rn he alights among the sportful herd 
 Of those four-footed kinds, himself now one, 
 Now other, as their shape serv'd best his end 
 Nearer to view his prey, and unespy'd 
 To mark what of their state he more might learn 
 By word or action mark'd : about them round, 
 A lion now he stalks with fiery glare ; 
 Then as a tiger, who by chance hath spy'd 
 In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play. 
 Straight couches close, then rising, changes oft 
 His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground. 
 Whence rushing he might surest seize them both 
 Grip'd in each paw ; when Adam first of men 
 To first of women Eve, thus moving speech, 
 Turn'd him all ear to hear new utterance flow. 
 
 Sole partner, and sole part, of all these joys, 
 Dearer thyself than all ; needs must the Pow'r 
 That made us, and for us this ample world, 
 Be infinitely good, and of his good 
 .9* 
 
102 PARADISE LOST. [boOK IT 
 
 As liberal and free as infinite ; 
 
 That rais'd us from the dust and plac'd us here 
 
 In all this happiness, who at his hand 
 
 Have nothing merited, nor can perform 
 
 Aught whereof he halh need, he who requires 
 
 From us no other service than to keep 
 
 This one, this easy charge, of all the trees 
 
 In Paradise that bear delicious fruit 
 
 So various, not to taste that only tree 
 
 Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life ; 
 
 So near grows death to life, whate'er death is, 
 
 Some dreadful thing no doubt: for well thouknow*st 
 
 God hath pronounc'd it death to taste that tree, 
 
 The only sign of our obedience left 
 
 Among so many signs of power and rule 
 
 Conferr'd upon us, and dominion given 
 
 Over all other creatures that possess 
 
 Earth, air, and sea. Then let us not think hard 
 
 One easy prohibition, who enjoy 
 
 Free leave so large to all things else, and choice 
 
 Unlimited of manifold delights : 
 
 But let us ever praise him, and extol 
 
 His bounty, following our delightful task 
 
 To prune these growing plants, and tend these flow'rs, 
 
 Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet. 
 
 To whom thus Eve reply 'd: thou for whom 
 And from whom I was formM, flesh of thy flesh. 
 And without whom am to no end, my guide 
 And head, what thou hast said is just and right, 
 For we to him indeed all praises owe, 
 And daily thanks ; I chiefly who enjoy 
 So far the happier lot, enjoying the^ 
 Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou 
 Like consort to thyself canst no where find. 
 That day I oft remember, when from sleep 
 I first awak'd, and found myself repos'd 
 Under a shade on flow'rs, much wond'ring where 
 And what I was, whence thither brought, and how 
 Not distant far from thence a murm'ring sound 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE LOST. 103 
 
 Of waters issued from a cave, and spread 
 
 Into a liquid plain, then stood unmov'd 
 
 Pure as th' expanse of heav'n ; I thither went 
 
 With unexperienc'd thought, and laid me down 
 
 On the green bank, to look into the clear 
 
 Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky. 
 
 As I feent down to look, just opposite 
 
 A shape within the wat'ry gleam appeared, 
 
 Bending to look on me : I started back, 
 
 It started back ; but pleas 'd I soon return'd, 
 
 Pleas 'd it return'd as soon with answering looks 
 
 Of sympathy and love ; there I had fix'd 
 
 Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire, 
 
 Had not a voice thus warn'd me : what thou see si, 
 
 What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself; 
 
 With thee it came and goes : but follow me, 
 
 And I will bring thee where no shadow stays 
 
 Thy coming, and thy soft embraces, he 
 
 Whose image thou art; him thou shalt enjoy 
 
 Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear 
 
 Multitudes like thyself, and tkence be call'd 
 
 Mother of human race. What could I do, 
 
 But follow straight, invisibly thus led ? 
 
 Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall, 
 
 Under a plantain ; yet methought less fair. 
 
 Less winning soft, less amiably mild, 
 
 Than that smooth wat'ry image : back I turn'd ; 
 
 Thou following cry'st aloud, Return, fair Eve, 
 
 Whom fiy'st thou ? whom thou fly'st, of him thou art, 
 
 His flesh, his bone ; to give thee being I lent 
 
 Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, 
 
 Subtantial life, to have thee by my side 
 
 Henceforth an individual solace dear; 
 
 Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim 
 
 My other half: with that thy gentle hand 
 
 Seiz'd mine ; I yielded, and from that time see 
 
 How beauty is excell'd by manly grace 
 
 And wisdom, which alone is truly fair. 
 
 So spake our general mother, and with eyes 
 
104 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IT 
 
 Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd, 
 
 And meek surrender, half-embracing lean'd 
 
 On our first father ; half her swelling breast 
 
 Naked met his, under the flowing gold 
 
 Of her loose tresses hid; he in delight 
 
 Both of her beauty and submissive charms 
 
 Smil'd with superior love, as Jupiter 
 
 On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds 
 
 That shed May flow'rs ; and press'd her matron lip 
 
 With kisses pure : aside the Devil turn'd 
 
 For envy, yet with jealous leer malign 
 
 Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plain'd: 
 
 Sight hateful, sight tormenting ! thus these two 
 Imparadis'd in one another's arms, 
 The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill 
 Of bliss on bliss ; while I to hell am thrust, 
 Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, 
 Among our other torments not the least, 
 Still unfulfill'd with pain of longing pines. 
 Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd 
 From their own mouths : all is not theirs it seems ; 
 One fatal tree there stands of knowledge call'd, 
 Forbidden them to taste : knowledge forbidden ? 
 Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord 
 Envy them that ? can it be sin to know ? 
 Can it be death ? and do they only stand 
 By ignorance ? is that their happy state, 
 The proof of their obedience and their faith ? 
 O fair foundation laid whereon to build 
 Their ruin ! Hence I will excite their minds 
 With more desire to know, and to reject 
 Envious commands, invented with design 
 To keep them low Vv'hom knowledge might exalt 
 Equal with gods : aspiring to be such, 
 They taste and die ; what likelier can ensue ? 
 But first with narrow search I must walk round 
 This garden, and no corner leave unspy'd ; 
 A chance, but chance may lead where I may meet 
 Some wand'ring spirit of heaven by fountain side 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE LOST. 105 
 
 Or in thick shade retir'd, from him to draw 
 
 What further would be learn'd. Live while ye may, 
 
 Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, 
 
 Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed. 
 
 So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd, 
 But with sly circumspection, and began 
 Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale hi 
 
 roam. 
 Meanwhile in utmost longitude, where heav'n 
 With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun 
 Slowly descended, and with right aspect 
 Against the eastern gate of Paradise 
 Levell'd his evening rays : it was a rock 
 Of alabaster, pil'd up to the clouds, 
 Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent 
 Accessible from earth, one entrance high ; 
 The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung 
 Still as it rose, impossible to climb. 
 Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel sat. 
 Chief of the angelic guards, awaiting night : 
 About him exercis'd heroic games 
 Th' unarm'd youth of heav'n but nigh at hand 
 Celestial armoury, shields, helms, and spears, 
 Hung high with diamond flaming, and with gold. 
 Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even 
 On a sun-beam, swift as a shooting star 
 In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fir'd 
 Impress the air, and shows the mariner 
 From what point of his compass to beware 
 Impetuous winds : he thus began in haste : 
 
 Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath given 
 Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place 
 No evil thing approach or enter in. 
 This day at height of noon came to my sphere 
 A spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know 
 More of th' Almighty's works, and chiefly man 
 God's latest image : I describ'd his way 
 Bent all on speed, and mark'd his airy gait ; 
 But in the mount that lies from Eden north. 
 
106 PARADISE LOST. [boOK 17 
 
 Where he first lighted, soon discern'd his looks 
 Alien from heav'n, with passions foul obscur'd : 
 Mine eye pursu'd him still, but under shade 
 Lost sight of him : one of the banish'd crew, 
 I fear, hath ventur'd from the deep, to raise 
 New troubles ; him thy care must be to find. 
 
 To whom the winged warrior thus return'd : 
 Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight. 
 Amid the sun's bright circle where thou sit'st, 
 See far and wide : in at this gate none pass 
 The vigilance here plac'd, but such as come 
 Vv'ell known from heav'n ; and since meridian hour 
 No creature thence : if spirit of other sort, 
 So minded, have o'er-leap'd these earthly bounds 
 On purpose, hard thou know'st it to exclude 
 Spiritual substance with corporeal bar : 
 But if within the circuit of these walks, 
 In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom 
 Thou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know. 
 
 So promis'd he ; and Uriel to his charge 
 Return'd on that bright beam, whose point now rais'J 
 Bore him slope downward to the sun now fall'n 
 Beneath th' Azores ; whether the prime orb, 
 Incredible how swift, had thither roU'd 
 Diurnal, or this less voluble earth, 
 By shorter flight to th' east, had left him there 
 Array hig with reflected purple and gold 
 The clouds that on his western throne attend. 
 
 Now came still evening on, and twilight grey 
 Had in her sober livery all things clad ; 
 Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, 
 They to their grassy couch, these to their nests 
 Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale ; 
 She all night long her amorous descant sung , 
 Silence was pleas'd : now glow'd the firmament 
 With living sapphires : Hesperus, that led 
 The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon 
 Rising in clouded majesty, at length 
 Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light, 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADlb-E LOST. 107 
 
 And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. 
 When Adam thus to Eve: Fair consort, th' hour 
 Of nig-ht, and all things now retir'd to rest, 
 Mind us of like repose, since God hath set 
 Labour and rest, as day and night, to men 
 Successive ; and the timely dew of sleep 
 Now falling with soft slumb'rous weight inclines 
 Our eye-lids : other creatures all day long 
 Rove idle unemplo3^'d, and less need rest ; 
 Man hath his daily work of body or mind 
 Appointed, which declares his dignity, 
 And the regard of heav'n on all his ways , 
 While other animals unactive range, 
 And of their doings God takes no account. 
 To-morrow ere fresh morning streak the east 
 With first approach of light, we must be risen, 
 And at our pleasant labour, to reform 
 Yon flow'ry arbours, yonder alleys green, 
 Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, 
 That mock our scant manuring, and require 
 More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth ; 
 Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums. 
 That lie bestrown unsightly and unsmooth. 
 Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease ; 
 Meanwhile, as Nature wills, night bids us rest. 
 
 To whom thus Eve with perfect beauty adorn'd : 
 My author and disposer, what thou bidst 
 Unargued I obey ; so God ordains ; 
 God is thy law, thou mine : to know no more 
 Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. 
 With thee conversing I forget all time ; 
 All seasons and their change, all please alike. 
 Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 
 With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun, 
 When first on this delightful land he spreads 
 His orient beams on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, 
 Glist'ring with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth 
 After soft show'rs ; and sweet the coming on 
 Of grateful evening mild ; then silent night 
 
108 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IV 
 
 "With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon. 
 And these the gems of heav'n, her starry train ; 
 But neither breath of morn, when she ascends 
 With charm of earliest birds ; nor rising sun 
 On this delightful land ; nor herb, fruit, flow'r, 
 Glist'ring with dew ; nor fragrance after showers : 
 Nor grateful evening mild ; nor silent night 
 With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon, 
 Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet ; 
 But wherefore all night long shine these ? for whom 
 This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes ? 
 
 To whom our general ancestor reply'd : 
 Daughter of God and man, accomplish'd Eve, 
 These have their course to finish round the earth, 
 By morrow evening, and from land to land 
 In order, though to nations yet unborn, 
 Minist'ring light prepar'd they set and rise; 
 Lest total darkness should by night regain 
 Her old possession, and extinguish life 
 In nature and all things, which these soft files 
 Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat 
 Of various influence foment and warm, 
 Temper or nourish, or in part shed down 
 Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow 
 On earth, made hereby apter to receive 
 Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. 
 These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, 
 Shine not in vain ; nor think, though men were none 
 That heav'n would want spectators, God want praise ; 
 Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
 Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep ; 
 All these with ceaseless praise his works behold 
 Both day and night : how often from the steep 
 Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard 
 Celestial voices to the midnight air, 
 Sole, or reponsive each to other's note, 
 Singing their great Creator ? oft in bands 
 While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk 
 With heav'nly touch of instrumenal sounds 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE LOST. 109 
 
 In full harmonic number join'd, their songs 
 Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heav*n. 
 
 Thus talking, hand in hand alone they pass'd 
 On to their blissful bow'r ! it was a place 
 Chos'n by the sov'reign Planter, when he framed 
 All things to man's delightful use ; the roof 
 Of thickest covert was inwoven shade. 
 Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew 
 Of firm and fragrant leaf: on either side 
 Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub 
 Fenc'd up the verdant wall ; each beauteous flow'r, 
 Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine, 
 Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between, m^ 
 
 wrought 
 Mossaic ; under foot the violet^ 
 Crocus, and hyacinth with rich inlay 
 Broider'd the ground, more colour'd than with stone 
 Of costliest emblem : other creature here. 
 Beast, bird, insect, or worm durst enter none ; 
 Such was their awe of man. In shadier bower 
 More sacred and sequester 'd, though but feign'd, 
 Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor nymph. 
 Nor Faunus haunted. Here in close recess 
 With flowers, garlands, and sweet smelling herbs, 
 Espoused Eve deck'd first her nuptial bed, 
 And heav'nly choirs the hymensean sung, 
 What day the genial angels to our sire 
 Brought her in naked beauty ; more adorn'd, 
 More lovely than Pandora, whom the gods 
 Endow'd with all their gifts, and O too like 
 In sad event, when to th' unwiser son 
 Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnar'd 
 Mankind with her fair looks, to be aveng'd 
 On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire. 
 
 Thus at their shady lodge arriv'd, both stood, 
 Both turn'd, and under open sky ador'd 
 The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'a 
 Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe, 
 And starry pole : Thou also mad'st the night, 
 10 
 
1 10 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK IT 
 
 Maker omnipotent, and thou the day, 
 Which we in our appointed work employ'd 
 Have finish'd, happy in our mutual help 
 And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss 
 Ordain'd by thee, and this delicious place 
 For us too large, where thy abundance wants 
 Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. 
 But thou hast promis'd from us two, a race 
 To fill the earth, who shall with us extol 
 Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, 
 And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep. 
 
 This said unanimous, and other rites 
 Observing none, but adoration pure 
 Which God likes best, into their inmost bower 
 Handed they went ; and eas'd the putting off 
 These troublesome disguises which we wear. 
 Straight side by side were laid; nor turn'd I Aveen 
 Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites 
 Mysterious of connubial love refus'd : 
 Whatever hypocrites austerely talk 
 Of purity, and place, and innocence, 
 Defaming as impure what God declares 
 Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all. 
 Our Maker bids increase ; who bids abstain 
 But our destroyer, foe to God and man ? 
 Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source 
 Of human offspring, sole propriety 
 In Paradise of all things common else. 
 By thee adult'rous love was driv'n from men 
 Among the bestial herds to range ; by thee 
 Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 
 Relations dear, and all the charities 
 Of Father, son, and brother first were known. 
 Far be it, that I should write thee sin or blame, 
 Or think thee unbefitting holiest place, 
 Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets. 
 Whose bed is undefil'd and chaste pronounc'd, 
 Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs us'd. 
 Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
 
:B00K iV.j PARADISE LOST. Ill 
 
 His constant lamp, and waves his purplo wings, 
 Eeigns here and revels ; not in the bought smile 
 Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd, 
 (Casual fruition ; nor in court amours, 
 Mix'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, 
 Or serenade, which the starv'd lover sings 
 To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. 
 These luU'd by nightingales embracing slept, 
 And on their naked limbs the flowr'y roof 
 Show'r'd roses, v/hich the morn repair'd. Sleep on, 
 Blest pair; and O yet happiest, if ye seek 
 No happier state, and know to know no more. 
 
 Now had night measur'd with her shadowy cone 
 Half way up hill this vast sublunar vault. 
 And from their ivory port the cherubim 
 Forth issuing at th' accustom 'd hour stood arm'd 
 To their night watches in warlike parade. 
 When Gabriel to his next in pow'r thus spake : 
 
 Uzziel, half these draw off, and coast the south 
 With strictest watch ; these other wheel the north ; 
 Our circuit meets full west. As flame they part, 
 Half wheeling to the shield, half to the spear. 
 From these, two strong and subtle spirits he call'd 
 That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge : 
 
 Ithuriel and Zephon, with wing'd speed 
 Search through this garden, leave unsearch'd no nook; 
 But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge, 
 Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm. 
 This evening from the sun's decline arriv'd 
 Who tells of some infernal spirit seen 
 Hitherward bent (who could have thought ?) escap'd 
 The bars of hell, on errand bad no doubt : 
 Such where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring. 
 
 So saying, on he led his radiant files. 
 Dazzling the moon ; these to the bow'r direct 
 In search of whom they sought : him there they found 
 Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, 
 Assaying by his devilish art to reach 
 The organs of her fancy, and with them forge 
 
112 I'ARADISE LOST. [bOOK IV. 
 
 Illusions as he list, phantasms and dreams, 
 Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint 
 Th' animal spirits that from pure blood arise 
 Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise 
 At least distemper'd, discontented thoughts, 
 Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires, 
 Blown up with high conceits engend'ring pride. 
 Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear 
 Touch'd lightly ; for no falsehood can endure 
 Touch of celestial temper, but returns 
 Of force to its own likeness : up he starts 
 Disco ver'd and surprised. As when a spark 
 Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid 
 Fit for the tun some magazine to store 
 Against a rumour'd war, the smutty grain 
 With sudden hlaze diffus'd inflames the air : 
 So started up in his own shape the fiend. 
 Back stept those two fair angels half amaz'd, 
 So sudden to behold the grisly king ; 
 Yet thus, unmov'd with fear, accost him soon : 
 "Which of those rebel spirits adjudg'd to hell 
 Com'st thou, esca^'d thy prison ? and transformed, 
 Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait, 
 Here watching at the head of these that sleep ? 
 
 Know ye not then, said Satan, fill'd with scorn, 
 Know ye not me ? ye knew me once no mate 
 For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar : 
 Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, 
 The lowest of your throng ; or if ye know. 
 Why ask ye, and superfluous begin 
 Your message, like to end as much in vain ? 
 
 To whom thus Zephon, answ'ring scorn with scorn 
 Think not revolted spirit, thy shape the same, 
 Or undiminish'd brightness to be known. 
 As when thou stood'st in heav'n upright and pure ; 
 That glory then, when thou no more wast good. 
 Departed from thee : and thou resemblest now 
 Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul. 
 But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE LOST. 113 
 
 To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep 
 This place inviolable, and these from harm. 
 
 So spake the cherub ; and his grave rebuke, 
 Severe in youthful beauty, added grace 
 Invincible : abash'd the Devil stood, 
 And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
 Virtue in her shape how lovely ; saw, and pin'd 
 His loss ; but chiefly to find here observ'd 
 His lustre visibly impair'd ; yet seem'd 
 Undaunted. If I must contend, said he, 
 Best, Avith the best, the sender, not the sent, 
 Or all at once ; more glory will be won, 
 Or less be lost. Th}'- fear, said Zephon bold, 
 Will save us trial what the least can do 
 Single against thee A\dcked, and thence weak. 
 
 The fiend reply'd not, overcome with rage ; 
 But like a proud steed rein'd, went haughty on, 
 Champing his iron curb ; to strive or fly 
 He held it vain ; awe from above had quell'd 
 His heart, not else dismay'd. Now drew they nigh 
 The western point, wheie those half-rounding guards 
 Just met, and closing stood in squadron join'd, 
 Awaiting next command. To whom their chief, 
 Gabriel, from the front thus call'd aloud : 
 
 friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet 
 Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern 
 Ilhuriel and Zephon through the shade, 
 And with them comes a third of regal port, 
 But faded splendour wan ; who by his gait 
 And fierce demeanour seem the prince of hell, 
 Not likely to part hence without contest ; 
 Stand firm, for in his looks defiance lours. 
 
 He scarce had ended, when those two approach'd, 
 And brief related whom they brought, where found. 
 How busied, in what form and posture couch 'd. 
 
 To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake : 
 Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescrib'd 
 To thy transgressions, and disturb'd the charge 
 Of others, w^ho approve not to transgress 
 10* 
 
114 PAKADISBI LOST. [bOOS IV. 
 
 By thy example, but have pow^r and right 
 'To question thy bold entrance on this place ; 
 Employ'd it seems to violate sleep, and those 
 Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss ? 
 
 To whom thus Satan with contemptuous brow ; 
 Ciabriel, thou hadst in heav'n th' esteem of wise, 
 And such I held thee ; but this question ask'd 
 Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain ? 
 Who would not, finding way, break loose from hell, 
 Though thither doom'd ? Thou wouldst thyself no 
 
 doubt, 
 And boldly venture to whatever place 
 Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change 
 Tcfrment with ease, and soonest recompense 
 Dole with delight, which in this place I sought j 
 To thee no reason, who know'st only good, 
 But evil hast not try'd ; and wilt object 
 His will who bound us ? let him surer bar 
 His iron gates, if he intends our stay 
 in that dark durance ; thus much what was ask'd . 
 The rest is true, thej'- found me where they say ; 
 But that implies not violence or harm. 
 
 Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel mov'd, 
 Disdainfully half smiling thus reply 'd : 
 O loss of one in heav'n to judge of wise, 
 Since Satan fell whom folly overthrew. 
 And now returns him from his prison 'scap'd. 
 Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise 
 Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither 
 Unlicens'd from his bounds in hell prescrib'd j 
 So wise he judges it to fly from pain 
 However, and to 'scape his punishment. 
 So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrath, 
 Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight 
 Sev'nfold, and scourge that wisdom back to hell, 
 Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain 
 Can equal anger infinite provok'd. 
 But wherefore thou alone ? wherefore with thee 
 Came not all hell broke loose ? is paia to them 
 
Book iv.] paeadise lost. 115 
 
 Less pain, less to be fled ? or thou than they « 
 
 Less hardy to endure ? courageous chief. 
 
 The first in flight from pain, hadst thou alledg'd 
 
 To thy deserted host this cause of flight, 
 
 Thou surely hadst not came sole fugitive. 
 
 To which the fiend thus answer'd frowning stem: 
 Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain, 
 Insulting angel : well thou know'st I stood 
 Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid 
 The blasting vollied thunder made all speed, 
 And seconded by thy else not dreaded spear. 
 But still thy words at random as before, 
 Argue thy inexperience what behoves 
 From hard assays and ill successes past 
 A faithful leader, not to hazard all 
 Through ways of danger by himself untry*d : 
 I therefore, I alone first undertook 
 To wing the desolate abyss, and spy 
 This new created world, whereof in hell 
 Fame is not silent, here in hope to find 
 Better abode, and my afflicted powers 
 To settle here on earth, or in mid air; 
 Though for possession put to try once more 
 What thou and thy gay legions dare against ; 
 Whose easier business were to serve the Lord 
 High up in heav'n, with songs to hymn his throne, 
 And practis'd distances to cringe, not fight. 
 
 To whom the warrior angel soon reply'd : 
 To say, and straight unsay, pretending first 
 Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy. 
 Argues no leader but a liar trac'd, 
 Satan, and could'st thou faithful add ? name, 
 O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd ! 
 Faithful to v/hom ? to thy rebellious crew ? 
 Army of fiends, fit body to fit head. 
 Was this your discipline and faith engag'd, 
 Your military obedience, to dissolve 
 Allegiance to the acknowledg'd power supreme ? 
 And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem 
 
116 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IV. 
 
 Patron of liberty, who more than thou 
 
 Once favvn'd, and cring'd, and servilely ador'd 
 
 Heav'ns awful monarch ? wherefore but in hope 
 
 To dispossess him, and thyself to reign ? 
 
 But mark what I aread thee now, Avaunt ; 
 
 Fly thither whence thou fledst : if from this hour 
 
 Within these hallow'd limits thou appear, 
 
 Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chain'd, 
 
 And seal thee so, as henceforth, not to scorn 
 
 The facile gates of hell too slightly barr'd. 
 
 So threaten'd he ; but Satan to no threats 
 Gave heed, bu-t waxing more in rage reply'd : 
 
 Then when I am thy captive talk of chains. 
 Proud limitary cherub,^ but ere then 
 Far heavier load thyself expect to feel 
 From my prevailing arm, though heav'ns King 
 Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers, 
 Us'd to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels 
 In progress through the road of heav'n star-pav'd. 
 
 While thus he spake, th' angelic squadron bright 
 Turn'd fiery red, sharp'ning in mooned horns 
 Their phalanx, and began to hem him round 
 With ported spears, as thick as when a field 
 Of Ceres ripe for harvest, waving bends 
 Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind 
 Sways them ; the careful ploughman doubting stands, 
 Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves 
 Prove chaff. On th' other side Satan alarm'd 
 Collecting all his might dilated stood, 
 Like Teneriffe or Atlas unremov'd : 
 His stature reach'd the sky, and on his crest 
 Sat horror plum'd : nor wanted in his grasp 
 What seem'd both spear and shield : now drea iful 
 
 deeds 
 Might have ensued, nor only Paradise 
 In this commotion, but the starry cope 
 
 ♦ "Proud limitary cherub:'' Umitari/ means guarding the 
 limits. 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE LOST. 117 
 
 Of heav'n perhaps, or all the elements 
 At least had gone to wreck, disturb'd and torn 
 With violence of this conflict, had not soon 
 Th' eternal to prevent such horrid fray- 
 Hung forth in heav'n his golden scales, yet seen 
 Betwixt Astrea and the scorpion sign, 
 Wherein all things created first he weigh'd, 
 The pendulous round earth with balanc'd air 
 In counterpoise, now ponders all events, 
 Battles and realms : in these he put two weights 
 The sequel each of parting and of fight ; 
 The latter quick up flew, and kick'd the beam ; 
 Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend : 
 
 Satan, I know thy strength and thou know'st mine, 
 Neither our own but giv'n ; what folly then 
 To boast what arms can do ? since thine no more 
 Than heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubled now 
 To trample thee as mire : for proof look up, 
 And read thy lot in yon celestial sign. 
 Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how 
 
 weak, 
 If thou resist. The fiend look'd up and knew 
 His mounted scale aloft : nor more ; but fled 
 Murm'ring, and with him fled the shades of night 
 
 END OF THE FOUTS BOOK. 
 
THE 
 
 FIFTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome 
 dream ; he likes it not, yet comforts her : they come forth to their 
 day labours : their morning hymn at the door of their bower. 
 God to render man inexcusable sends Raphael to admonish him 
 of his obedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand, 
 who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever else may avail 
 Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Paradise, his appear- 
 ance described, his coming discerned by Adam afar off, sitting at 
 the door of his bower ; he goes out, to meet him, brings him to his 
 lodge, entertains him with the choicest fruits of Paradise, got to- 
 gether by Eve ; their discourse at table : Raphael performs his 
 message, minds Adam of his state and of his enemy ; relates at 
 Adam's request, who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, 
 beginning from his first revolt in Heaven, and the occasion 
 thereof; now he drew his legions after him to the parts»of the 
 north, and there incited them to rebel with him, persuading all 
 but only Abdiel a seraph, who in argument dissuades and oppo- 
 ses him. then forsakes him. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 Now morn her rosy steps in th* eastern clime 
 Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, 
 When Adam wak'd, so custom'd, for his sleep 
 Was airy light from pure digestion bred, 
 And temp'rate vapours bland, which th' only sound 
 Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan 
 Lightly disper'd, and the shrill matin song 
 Of birds on every bough ; so much the more 
 His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve 
 With tresses discompos'd, and glowing cheek, 
 As through unquiet rest : he on his side 
 Leaning half rais'd, with looks of cordial love 
 Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld 
 Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, 
 Shot forth peculiar gi ; :es ; then with voice 
 Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, 
 Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus : Awake 
 My fairest, my espous'd^ my latest found, 
 Heav'n's last, best gift, my ever new delight. 
 Awake ; the morning shines, and the fresh field 
 Calls us ; we lose the prime, to mark how spring 
 Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, 
 What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, 
 How nature paints her colours, how the bee 
 Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid sweet. 
 11 
 
122 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK V. 
 
 Such vvliisp'ring wak'd her, but with startled eye 
 On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake : 
 
 O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, 
 My glory, rny perfection, glad I see 
 Thy face, and morn return'd ; for I this night 
 (Such night till this I never pass'd) have dream'd, 
 If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee. 
 Works of day past, or morrow's next design, 
 But of offence and trouble, which my mind 
 Knew never till this irksome night : methought, 
 Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk 
 With gentle voice, I thought it thine ; it said. 
 Why sleep'st thou Eve ? now is the pleasant time, 
 The cool, the silent, save where silence yields 
 To the night-warbling bird, that now awake 
 Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd song ; now reigns 
 Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light 
 Shadowy sets off the face of things : in vain, 
 If none regard ; heav'n wakes with all his eyes, 
 Whom to behold but thee, nature's desire ? 
 In whose sight all things joy with ravishment, 
 Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze. 
 I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; 
 To find thee I directed then my walk ; 
 And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways 
 That brought me on a sudden to the tree 
 Of interdicted knowledge : fair it seem'd, 
 Much fairer to my fancy than by day : 
 And as I wond'ring look'd, beside it stood 
 One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from heav'n 
 By us oft seen : his dewy locks distill'd 
 Ambrosia ; on that tree he also gaz'd ; 
 And O fair plant, said he, with fruit surcharg'd, 
 Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet. 
 Nor God, nor man ? is knowledge so despis'd ? 
 Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste ? 
 Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold 
 Longer thy offer'd good, why else set here ? 
 This said, he paus'd not, but with vent'rous arm 
 
BOOK v.] PARADISE LOST. 133 
 
 He pluck'd, he tasted ; me damp horror chill'd 
 
 At such bold words vouch'd with a deed so bold : 
 
 But he thus overjoy'd, O fruit divine, 
 
 Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt, 
 
 Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit 
 
 For gods, yet able to make gods of men ! 
 
 And why not gods of men, since good the more 
 
 Communicated, more abundant grows, 
 
 The author not impair'd, but honour'd more ? 
 
 Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve, 
 
 Partake thou also ; happy though thou art, 
 
 Happier thou may'st be, worthier canst not be ; 
 
 Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods 
 
 Thyself a goddess, not to earth confin'd, 
 
 But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes 
 
 Ascend to heav'n, by merit thine, and see 
 
 What life the gods live there, and such live thou. 
 
 So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, 
 
 Ev'n to my mouth of that same fruit held part 
 
 Which he had pluck'd ; the pleasant savoury smell 
 
 So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought, 
 
 Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds 
 
 With him I flew, and underneath beheld 
 
 The earth outstretch'd immense, a prospect wide 
 
 And various : wond'ring at my flight and change 
 
 To this high exaltation ; suddenly 
 
 My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down, 
 
 And fell asleep ; but O how glad I wak'd 
 
 To find this but a dream ! Thus Eve her night 
 
 Related, and thus Adam answer'd sad : 
 
 Best image of myself, and dearer half. 
 The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep, 
 Affects me equally ; nor can I like 
 This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear ; 
 Yet evil whence ? in thee can harbour none, 
 Created pure. But know, that in the soul 
 Are many lesser faculties, that serve 
 Reason as chief: among these fancy next 
 Her office holds : of all external thing, 
 
124 PARADISE LOST. ,B0OK V. 
 
 W}»ich the five watchful senses represent, 
 
 She forms imaginations, airy shapes, 
 
 Which reason joining, or disjoining, frames 
 
 All what we affirm or what deny, and call 
 
 Our knowledge or opinion ; then retires 
 
 Into her private cell when nature rests. 
 
 Oft in her absence mimic fancy wakes 
 
 To imitate her ; but misjoining shapes, 
 
 Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams, 
 
 111 matching words and deeds long past or late. 
 
 Some such resemblances methinks I find 
 
 Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream, 
 
 But with addition strange ; yet be not sad. 
 
 Evil in the mind of God or man 
 
 May come and go, so unapproved and leave 
 
 No spot or blame behind : which gives me hope 
 
 That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, 
 
 Waking thou never wilt consent to do. 
 
 Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud those looks 
 
 That wont to be more cheerful and serene. 
 
 Than when fair morning first smiles on the world ; 
 
 And let us to our fresh employments rise 
 
 Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers 
 
 That open now their choicest bosom'd smells, 
 
 Reserv'd from night, and kept for thee in store. 
 
 So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer*d. 
 But silently a gentle tear let fall 
 From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair ; 
 Two other precious drops that ready stood, 
 Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell 
 Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet remorso 
 And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. 
 
 So all was clear 'd, and to the field they haste. 
 But first, from under shady arb'rous roof 
 Soon as they forth were come to open sight 
 Of day-spring, and the sun, who scarce uprisen, 
 With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean brim, 
 Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray, 
 Discovering in wide landscape all the east 
 
BOOK v.] PARADISE LOST. 125 
 
 Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains, 
 
 Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began 
 
 Their orisons, each morning duly paid 
 
 In various style ; for neither various style 
 
 Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 
 
 Their Maker, in fit strains pronounc'd or sung 
 
 Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence 
 
 Flow'd from their lips, in prose or numerous verse, 
 
 More tuneable than needed lute or harp 
 
 To add more sweetness ; and they thus began. 
 
 These are thy glorious works. Parent of good, 
 Almighty, thine this universal frame, 
 Thus wondrous fair ; thyself how wondrous then ! 
 Unspeakable, who sit'st above these heavens, 
 On us invisible, or dimly seen 
 In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare 
 Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine. 
 Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, 
 Angels ; for ye behold him, and with songs 
 And choral symphonies, day without night. 
 Circle his throne rejoicing ; ye in heaven, 
 On earth join all ye creatures to extol 
 Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. 
 Fairest of stars, last in the train of nighi. 
 If better thou belong not to the dawn. 
 Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling mom 
 "With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, 
 While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. 
 Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and soul, 
 Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise 
 In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, 
 And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou 
 
 fall'st. 
 Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st, 
 With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies. 
 And ye five other wand'ring fires that move 
 In. mystic dance not without song, resound 
 His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. 
 Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth 
 11* 
 
126 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK ▼, 
 
 Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion ran 
 
 Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix 
 
 And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change 
 
 Vary to our great Maker still new praise. 
 
 Ye mists and exhalations that now rise 
 
 From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey, 
 
 Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, 
 
 In honour to the world's great Author rise, 
 
 Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky, 
 
 Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, 
 
 Rising or falling still advance his praise. 
 
 His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, 
 
 Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines; 
 
 With every plant, in sign of worship wave. 
 
 Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, 
 
 Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. 
 
 Join voices, all ye living souls ; ye birds. 
 
 That singing up to heaven gate ascend. 
 
 Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. 
 
 Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk 
 
 The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep ; 
 
 Witness if I be silent, morn or even, 
 
 To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade 
 
 Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. 
 
 Hail universal Lord, be bounteous still 
 
 To give us only good ; and if the night 
 
 Have gather'd ought of evil, or conceal'd. 
 
 Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. 
 
 So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts 
 Firm peace recover'd soon, and wonted calm. 
 On to their morning's rural work they haste 
 ^Lmong sweet dews and flow'rs ; where any row 
 ^f fruit-trees over-woody reach'd too far 
 Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to check 
 Fruitless embraces : or they led the vine 
 To wed her elm; she 'spous'd about him twines 
 Her marriageable arms, and with her brings 
 Her dow'r th' adopted clusters, to adorn 
 His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld 
 
BOOK v.] PAHADISE LOST. 1SP7 
 
 With pity heavn's high King, and to him call'd 
 
 Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deign'd 
 
 To travel with Tobias, and secur'd 
 
 His marriage with the sev'ntimes-wedded maid. 
 
 Raphael, said he, thou hear'st what stir on earth 
 Satan from hell 'scap'd through the darksome gulf 
 Hath rais'd in Paradise, and how disturb'd 
 This night the human pair, how he designs 
 in them at once to ruin all mankind. 
 Oo therefore, half this day, as friend with friend, 
 Converse with Adam, in what bow'r or shade 
 Thou find'st him from the heat of noon retir'd 
 To respite his day-labour with repast, 
 Or with repose ; and such discourse bring on, 
 As may advise him of his happy state. 
 Happiness in his pow'r left free to will, 
 Left to his own free will, his will though free, 
 Yet mutable ; whence warn him to beware 
 He swerve not too secure : tell him withal 
 His danger, and from whom ; what enemy, 
 Late fall'n himself from heav'n, is plotting now 
 The fall of others from like stale of bliss ; 
 By violence ? no, for that shall be withstood , 
 But by deceit and lies ; this let him know, 
 Lest wilfully transgressing he pretend 
 Surprisal, unadmonish'd, unforewarn'd. 
 
 So spake th' eternal Father, and fulfill'd 
 All justice ; nor delay'd the winged saint 
 After his charge receiv'd ; but from among 
 Thousand celestial ardours, where he stood 
 Veil'd with his gorgeous wings, up springing light 
 Flew through the midst of heav'n ; th' angelic choir% 
 On each hand parting, to his speed gave way 
 Through all th' empyreal road; till at the gate 
 Of heav'n arriv'd, the gate self-open'd wide 
 On golden hinges turning, as by work 
 Divine the sov'reign architect had fram'd. 
 From hence, no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, 
 Star imerpos'd, however small he sees, 
 
128 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK V. 
 
 Not unconform to other shining globes, 
 
 Earth and the gard'n of God, with cedars crowned 
 
 Above all hills. As when by night the glass 
 
 Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes 
 
 Imagin'd lands and regions in the moon : 
 
 Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades, 
 
 Delos or Samos first appearing, kens 
 
 A cloudy spot. Down thither, prone in flight 
 
 He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky 
 
 SaiPd between worlds and worlds, with steady wingf 
 
 Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan 
 
 Winnows the buxom air ; till within soar 
 
 'Of tow'ring eagles, to all the fowls he seems 
 
 A phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole bird. 
 
 When to enshrine his reliques in the sun's 
 
 Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies. 
 
 At once on th' eastern clifl* of Paradise 
 
 He lights, and to his proper shape returns 
 
 A seraph wing'd ; six wings he wore, to shade 
 
 His lineaments divine ; the pair that clad 
 
 Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast 
 
 With regal ornament ; the middle pair 
 
 Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round 
 
 Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold 
 
 And colours dipt in heav'n ; the third his feet 
 
 Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail, 
 
 Sky-tinctur'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood, 
 
 And shook his plumes, that heav'nly fragrance fill'd 
 
 The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands 
 
 Of angels under watch ; and to his state, 
 
 And to his message high in honour rise ; 
 
 For on some message high they guess'd him bound : 
 
 Their glittering tents he pass'd, and now is come 
 
 , nto the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, 
 
 And flow'ring odours, cassia, nard, and balm ; 
 
 A wilderness of sweets : for nature here 
 
 Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will 
 
 Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, 
 
 Wild above rule or art; enormous bliss. 
 
BOOK v.] PARADISE LOST, 129 
 
 Him through the spicy forest onward come, 
 
 Adam discern'd, as in the door he sat 
 
 Of his cool bow'r, while now the mounted sun 
 
 Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm 
 
 Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam 
 
 needs : 
 And Eve within, due at her hour prepar'd 
 For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please 
 True appetite, and not disrelish thirst 
 Of nect'rous draughts between, from milky stream, 
 Berry or grape : to whom thus Adam call'd : 
 
 Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight behold 
 Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape 
 Comes this way moving ; seems another morn 
 Ris'n on mid-noon ; some great behest from heav'n 
 To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe 
 This day to be our guest. But go with speed, 
 And what thy stores contain, bring forth, and pour 
 Abundance, fit to honour and receive 
 Our heav'nly stranger : well we may afford 
 Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow 
 From large bestcw'd, where nature multiplies 
 Her fertile growth, and by disburd'ning grows 
 More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare. 
 
 To whom thus Eve : Adam, earth's hallow'd mould 
 Of God inspir'd, small store will serve, where store. 
 All seasons ripe for use, hangs on the stalk ; 
 Save what by frugal storing firmness gains 
 To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes : 
 But I will haste, and from each bough and brake, 
 Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such choice 
 To entertain our angel guest, as he 
 Beholding shall confess, that here on earth 
 God hath dispens'd his bounties as in heav'n. 
 
 So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste 
 She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent 
 What choice to choose for delicacy best. 
 What order, so contriv'd as not to mix 
 
130 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK V 
 
 Tastes, not well join'd inelegant, but bring 
 Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change ; 
 Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk 
 Whatever earth all-bearing mother yields 
 In India East or West, or middle shore 
 In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where 
 Alcinous reign'd fruit of all kinds, in coat 
 Rough or smooth rin'd, or bearded husk, or shell, 
 She gathers tribute large, and on the board 
 Heaps with unsparing hand ; for drink the grape 
 She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths 
 From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press 'd 
 She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold 
 Wants her fit vessels pure, then strows the ground 
 With rose and odours from the shrub unfum'd. 
 
 Meanwhile our primitive great sire, to meet 
 His godlike-guest, walks forth, without more train 
 Accompanied than with bis own complete 
 Perfections ; in himself was all his slate, 
 More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits 
 On princes, when the rich retinue long 
 Of horses led, and grooms besmear'd with gold, 
 Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. 
 Nearer his presence Adam though not aw'd, 
 Yet with submiss approach and reverence meet, 
 As to a superior nature, bowing low, 
 Thus said : Native of heav'n, for other place 
 None can than heav'n such glorious shape contain ; 
 Since by descending from the thrones above, 
 Those happy places thou hast deign'd awhile 
 To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us 
 Two only, who yet by sov'reign gift possess 
 This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower 
 To rest, and what the garden choicest bears 
 To sit and taste, till this meridian heat 
 Be over, and the sun more cool decline. 
 
 Whom thus th' angelic virtue answer'd mild : 
 Adam I therefore came, nor art thou such 
 Created, or such place hast here to dwell. 
 
BOOK v.] PARADISE LOST. 131 
 
 As may not oft invite, though spirits of heav'n 
 
 To visit thee ; lead on then where thy bower 
 
 O'ershades ; for these mid-hours, till evening rise, 
 
 I have at will. So to the sylvan lodge 
 
 They came, that like Pomona's arbour smil'd 
 
 With flow'rets deck'd, and fragrant smells ; but Eve, 
 
 Undeck'd save with herself, more lovely fair 
 
 Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feign'd 
 
 Of three that in mount Ida naked strove. 
 
 Stood to entertain her guest from heav'n ; no veil 
 
 She needed, virtue-proof ; no thought infirm 
 
 Alter'd her cheek. On whom the angel, Hail, 
 
 Bestow'd, the holy salutation us'd 
 
 Long after to the blest Mary, second Eve. 
 
 Hail mother of mankind, whose fruitful womb 
 Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons, 
 Than with these various fruits the trees of God 
 Have heap'd this table. Eais'd of grassy turf 
 Their table was, and mossy seats had round, 
 And on her ample square from side to side 
 All autumn pil'd, though spring and autumn here 
 Danc'd hand in hand. Awhile discourse they held; 
 No fear lest dinner cool ; when thus began 
 Our author : Heav'nly stranger, please to taste 
 These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom 
 All perfect good, unmeasur'd out, descends, 
 To us for food and for delight hath caus'd 
 The earth to yield ; unsavoury food perhaps 
 To spiritual natures ; only this I know. 
 That one celestial Father gives to all. 
 To whom the Angel : Therefore what he gives 
 (Whose praise be ever sung) to man in part 
 Spiritual, may of purest spirits be found 
 No ingrateful food ; and food alike those pure 
 Intelligential substances require, 
 As doth your rational ; and both contain 
 "Within them every lower faculty 
 Of sense whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste. 
 Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate, 
 
132 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK V. 
 
 And corporeal, to incorporeal turn. 
 
 For know, whatever was created, needs 
 
 To be sustain'd and fed ; of elements 
 
 The grosser feeds the purer, earth the sea, 
 
 Earth and the sea feed air, the air those fires 
 
 Ethereal, and as lowest first the moon ; 
 
 Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurg'd 
 
 Vapours not yet into her substance turn'd. 
 
 Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhale 
 
 From her moist continent to higher orbs. 
 
 The sun that light imparts to all, receives 
 
 From all his alimental recompense 
 
 In humid exhalations, and at even 
 
 Sups with the ocean. Though in heav'n the trees 
 
 Of life, ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines 
 
 Yield nectar, though from off the boughs each morn 
 
 We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground 
 
 Cover'd with pearly grain : yet God hath here 
 
 Varied his bounty so with new delights, 
 
 As may compare with heav'n ; and to taste 
 
 Think not I shall be nice. So down they sat, 
 
 And to their viands fell ; nor seemingly 
 
 The angel, nor in mist, the common gloss 
 
 Of theologians ; but with keen despatch 
 
 Of real hunger, and concoctive heat 
 
 To transubstantiate: what redounds, transpires 
 
 Through spirits with ease * nor wonder ; if by fire 
 
 Of sooty coal th' empiric alchemist 
 
 Can turn, or holds it possible t? turn, 
 
 Metals of drossiest ore to perfect ^old. 
 
 As from the mine. Meanwhile at table Eve 
 
 Minister'd naked, and their flowing cups 
 
 With pleasant liquors crown'd : O innocence 
 
 Deserving Paradise ! if ever, then, 
 
 Then had the sons of God excuse to have been 
 
 Enamour'd at that sight ; but in those hearts 
 
 Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousy 
 
 Was understood, the injur 'd lover's hell. 
 
 Thus when with meats and drinks they had suffic'd, 
 
BOOK v.] PARADISE LOST. 133 
 
 Not burden'd nature, sudden mind arose 
 In Adam, not to let th' occasion pass 
 Given him by this great conference to know 
 Of things above his world, and of their being 
 Who dwell in lieav'n, whose excellence he saw 
 Transcend his own so far, whose radiant forms 
 Divine effulgence, whose high pow'r so far 
 Exceeded human, and his wary speech 
 Thus to th' empyreal minister he fram'd: 
 
 Inhabitant with God, now know I well 
 Thy favour, in this honour done to man. 
 Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsaf d 
 To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, 
 Food not of angels, yet accepted so. 
 As that more willingly thou couldst not seem 
 At heav'n's high feast t' have fed: yet what compare ? 
 
 To whom the winged hierarch reply'd : 
 Adam, one Almighty is, from whom 
 All things proceed, and up to him return, 
 If not deprav'd from good, created all 
 Such to perfection, one first matter all, 
 Endued with various forms, various degrees 
 Of subtance, and in things that live, of life ; 
 But more refin'd, more spiritous, and pure, 
 As nearer to him plac'd or nearer tending 
 Each in their several active spheres asign'd, 
 Till body up to spirit work, in bounds 
 Proportion'd to each kind. So from the root 
 Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the 
 
 leaves 
 More airy, last the bright consummate flower 
 Spirit odorous breathes : flow'rs and their fruit, 
 Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublim'd, 
 To vital spirits aspire, to animal, 
 To intellectual ; give both life and sense, 
 Fancy and understanding ; whence the soul 
 Reason receives, and reason is her being, 
 Discursive, or intuitive ; discourse 
 [s oftest yours, the latter most is curs, 
 
134 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK V 
 
 Differing but in degree, of kind the same. 
 
 Wonder not then, what God for you saw good 
 
 If I refuse not, but convert, as you 
 
 To proper substance ; time may come, when men 
 
 With angels may participate and find 
 
 No inconvenient diet, nor too light fare ; 
 
 And from these corporeal nutriments perhaps 
 
 Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit, 
 
 Improv'd by tract of time, and wing'd ascend 
 
 Ethereal, as we, or may at choice 
 
 Here, or in heav'nly Paradise dwell ; 
 
 If ye be found obedient, and retain 
 
 Unalterably firm his love entire, 
 
 Whose progeny you are. Meanwhile enjoy 
 
 Your fill what happiness this happy state 
 
 Can comprehend, incapable of more. 
 
 To whom the patriarch of mankind reply'd ; 
 O favourable spirit, propitious guest, 
 Well hast thou taught the way that might direct 
 Our knowledge, and the scale of nature set 
 From centre to circumference, whereon 
 In contemplation of created things 
 By steps we may ascend to God. But say, 
 What meant that caution join'd, If ye be found 
 Obedient ? can we want obedience then 
 To him, or possibly his love desert, 
 Who form'd us from the dust, and plac'd us her»e 
 Full to the utmost measure of what bliss 
 Human desires can seek or apprehend ? 
 
 To whom the angel : Son of heav'n and earth, 
 Attend : that thou art happy, owe to God ; 
 That thou continuest such, owe to thyself, 
 That is to thy obedience ; therein stand. 
 This was that caution given thee ; be advised. 
 God made thee perfect not immutable ; 
 And good he made thee, but to persevere 
 He left it in thy pow'r ; ordain'd thy will 
 By nature free, not over-rul'd by fate 
 Inextricable, or strict necessity : 
 
BOOK v.] PARADISE LOST. 135 
 
 Our voluntary service he requires, 
 
 Not our necessitated ; such with him 
 
 Finds no acceptance, nor can find ; for how 
 
 Can hearts, not free, be try'd whether they servp } 
 
 Willing or no, who will but what they must 
 
 By destiny, and can no other choose ? 
 
 Myself and all th' angelic host, that stand 
 
 In sight of God enthron'd, our happy state 
 
 Hold as you yours, while our obedience holds : 
 
 On other surety none ; freely we serve, 
 
 Because we freely love, as in our will 
 
 To love or not ; in this we stand or fall ; 
 
 And some are fall'n, to disobedience fall'nj 
 
 And so from heav'n to deepest hell : fall 
 
 From what high state of bliss into what wo ! 
 
 To whom our great progenitor : Thy words 
 Attentive, and with more delighted ear, 
 Divine instructor, I have heard, than when 
 Cherubic songs by night from neighb'ring hill 
 Aereal music send ; nor know I not 
 To be both will and deed created free ; 
 Yet that we never shall forget to love 
 Our Maker, and obey him whose command 
 Single is yet so just, my constant thoughts 
 Assur'd me, and still assure : though what thou tell'st 
 Hath pass'd in heav'n, some doubt within me move, 
 But more desire to hear, if thou consent, 
 The full relation, which must needs be strange, 
 Worthy of sacred silence to be heard ; 
 And we have yet large day, for scarce the sun 
 Hath finish'd half his journey, and scarce begins 
 His other half in the great zone of heav'n. 
 
 Thus Adam made request ; and Raphael 
 After short pause assenting, thus began : 
 
 High matter thou enjoin'st me, O prime of men, 
 Sad task and hard ; for how shall I relate 
 To human sense th' invisible exploits 
 Of warring spirits ? how without remorse 
 The ruin of so many glorious once, 
 
136 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK V 
 
 And perfect while they stood ? how last unfold 
 
 The secrets of another world, perhaps 
 
 Not lawful to reveal ? yet for thy good 
 
 This is dispens'd : and what surmounts the reach 
 
 Of human sense, I shall delineate so. 
 
 By liliening spiritual to corporeal forms, 
 
 As may express them best ; though what if earth 
 
 Be but the shadow of heav'n, and things therein 
 
 Each to other like, more than on earth is thought ? 
 
 As yet this world was not, and Chaos wild 
 Reign'd where these heav'ns, now roll, where earth 
 
 now rests 
 Upon her centre pois'd ; w^hen on a day 
 (For time, though in eternity, apply'd 
 To motion, measures all things durable 
 By present, past, and future,) on such day 
 As heav'n 's gTeat year brings forth, th' empyreal host 
 Of angels by imperial summons call'd 
 Innumerable before th' Almighty's throne 
 Forthwith from all the ends of heav'n appear'd 
 Under their hierarchies in orders bright : 
 Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advane'd, 
 Standards and gonfalons 'tvvixt van and rear 
 Stream in the air, and for distinction serve 
 Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees ; 
 Or in their glittering tissues bear emblaz'd 
 Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love 
 Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs 
 Of circuit inexpressible they stood. 
 Orb within orb, the Father infinite, 
 By whom in bliss imbosom'd sat the Son, 
 Amidst as from a flaming mount, whose top 
 Brightness had made invisible, thus spake : 
 
 Hear all ye angels, progeny of light, 
 Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers 
 Hear my decree, which unrevok'd shall stand. 
 This day I have begot whom I declare 
 My only Son, and on this holy hill 
 Him have anointed, whom ye now behold 
 
«JOOK v.] PARADISE LOST. 137 
 
 At my right hand : your head I him appoint ; 
 And by myself have sworn to him shall bow 
 All knees in heav'n, and shall confess him Lord : 
 Under his great vicegerent reign abide 
 United as one individual soul 
 For ever happy ; him who disobeys, 
 Me disobeys, breaks union, and that day 
 Cast out from God, and blessed vision, falls 
 Into utter darkness, deep ingulf 'd, his place 
 Ordain'd without redemption, without end. 
 
 So spake th' Omnipotent, and with his words 
 All seem'd well pleas'd : all seem'd, but were not all. 
 That day, as other solemn days, they spent 
 In song and dance about the sacred hill; 
 Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere 
 Of planets and of fix'd in all her v/heels 
 Resembles nearest, mazes intricate. 
 Eccentric, intervolv'd, yet regular 
 Then most, when most irregular they seem ; 
 And in their motions harmony divine 
 So smooths her charming tones, that God's own ear 
 Listens delighted. Evening now approach'd 
 (For we have also our evening and our morn, 
 We ours for change delectable, not need,) 
 Forthwith fpom dance to sweet repast they turn 
 Desirous; all in circles as they stood. 
 Tables are set, and on a sudden pil'd 
 With angels' food, and rubied nectar flows 
 In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold. 
 Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of heav'n. 
 On flow'rs repos'd, and with fresh flow'rets crown'd, 
 They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet 
 Quaff immortality and joy, secure 
 Of surfeit where full measure only bounds 
 Excess, before th' all-bounteous King, who show'r'd 
 With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. 
 Now when ambrosial night with clouds exhal'd 
 From that high mount of God, whence light and shade 
 Spring both; the face of brightest heav'n had chang'd 
 12* 
 
138 PARADISE LOST. [bOOR f. 
 
 The grateful twilight (for night comes not there 
 
 In darker veil,) and roseate dews dispos'd 
 
 All but th' unsleeping eyes of God to rest ; 
 
 Wide over the plain, and wider far 
 
 Than all this globous earth in plain outspread 
 
 (Such are the courts of God,) th' angelic throng, 
 
 Dispers'd in bands and files, their camp extend 
 
 By living streams among the trees of life, 
 
 Pavilions numberless, and sudden rear'd 
 
 Celestial tabernacles, where they slept 
 
 Fann'd with cool winds ; save those who in their course 
 
 Melodious hymn about the sov'reign throne 
 
 Alternate, all night long : but not so wak'd 
 
 Satan : so call him novr, his former name 
 
 Is heard no more in heav'n ; he of the first, 
 
 If not the first arch-angel, great in pow'r, 
 
 In favour and pre-eminence, yet fraught 
 
 With envy against the Son of God, that day 
 
 Honour'd by his great Father, and proclaim'd 
 
 Messiah King anointed, could not bear 
 
 Through pride that sight, and thought himself impaired, 
 
 Deep malice thence conceiving, and disdain ; 
 
 Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour 
 
 Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolv'd 
 
 With all his legions to dislodge, and leave 
 
 Unworship'd unobey'd the throne supreme 
 
 Contemptuous, and his next subordinate 
 
 Awak'ning, thus to him in secret spake : 
 
 Sleep 'st thou, companion dear, what sleep can close 
 Thy eye-lids ? and rememb'rest what decree 
 Of yesterday, so late h^th pass'd the lips 
 Of heaven's Almighty. Thou to me thy thoughts 
 Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont t' impart : 
 Both waking we were one ; how then can now 
 Thy sleep dissent? New laws thou seest impos'd, 
 New laws from him who reigns, new minds may raise 
 In us who serve, new counsels, to debate 
 What doubtful may ensue : moriS in this place 
 To utter is not safe. Assemble thou 
 
IPOKV.] PARADISE LOST. 139 
 
 Of all those myriads which we lead the chief; 
 Tell them that by command, ere yet dim night 
 Her shadowy cloud witndraws I am to haste, 
 And all who under me their banners wave, 
 Homeward with flying march where we possess 
 The quarters of the north ; there to prepare 
 Fit entertainment to receive our King, 
 The great Messiah, and his new commands, 
 Who speedily through all the hierarchies 
 Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws. 
 
 So spake the false arch-angel, and infus'd 
 Bad influence into th' unwary breast 
 Of his associate : he together calls, 
 Or several one by one, the regent powers, 
 Under him regent ; tells, as he was taught, 
 That the most High commanding, now ere night, 
 Now ere dim night had disencumber'd heav'n, 
 The great hierarchial standard was to move ; 
 Tells the suggested cause, and casts between 
 Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound 
 Or taint integrity ; but all obey'd 
 The wonted signal, and superior voice 
 Of their great potentate ; for great indeed 
 His name, and high was his degree in heav'n ; 
 His countenance, as the morning star that guides 
 The starry flocic, allur'd them, and with lies 
 Drew after him the third part of heav'n's host. 
 Meanwhile th' eternal eye, whose sight discerns 
 Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy mount 
 And from within the golden lamps that burn 
 Nightly before him, saw without their light 
 Rebellion rising, saw in whom, how spread 
 Among the sons of morn, what multitudes 
 Were banded to oppose his high decree; 
 And smiling to his only Son thus said: 
 
 Son, thou in whom my glory I behold 
 In full resplendence, heir of all my might. 
 Nearly it now concerns us to be sure 
 Of our omnipotence, and with what arms 
 
140 PARADISfi LOST. [bOOK V 
 
 We mean to hold what anciently we claim 
 Of deity or empire ; such a foe 
 Is rising, who intends to erect his throne 
 Equal to ours, throughout the spacious north; 
 Nor so content, hath in his thought to try 
 In battle, what our pow'r is, or our right. 
 Let us advise, and to this hazard draw 
 With speed what force is left, and all employ 
 In our defence, lest unawares we lose 
 This our high place, our sanctuar}^, our hill. 
 
 To whom the son vrith calm aspect and clear, 
 Lightning divine, ineffable, serene, 
 Made answer : Mighty Father, thou thy foes 
 Justly hast in derision, and secure 
 Laugh 'st at their vain designs and tumults vain. 
 Matter to me of glory, whom their hate 
 Illustrates, when they see all regal power 
 Giv'n me to quell their pride, and in event 
 Know whether I be dex'trous to subdue 
 Thy rebels, or be found the worst in heav'n. 
 
 So spake the Son ; but Satan with his powers 
 Far was advanc'd on winged speed, a host 
 Innumerable as the stars of night. 
 Or stars of morning, dew-drops, which the sun 
 Impearls on every leaf and every flower. 
 Regions they pass'd, the mighty regencies 
 Of seraphim, and potentates, and thrones, 
 In their triple degrees : regions to which 
 All thy dominion, Adam, is no more 
 Than what this garden is to all the earth, 
 And all the sea, from one entire globose 
 Stretch'd into longitude ; which having pass'd 
 At length into the limits of the north 
 They came, and Satan to his royal seat 
 High on a hill, far blazing as a mount 
 Eais'd on a mount, with pyramids and towers 
 From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold, 
 The palace of great Lucifer (so call 
 That sti'ucture in the dialect of men 
 
Br)\DiL /. { PARADISE LCST. 141 
 
 Interpreted,) which iiot long after, he 
 Aftectmg all equality with God, 
 In imitation of that mount Vv'hereon 
 Messiah was declar'd in sight of heav'n, 
 The Mountain of the Congregation call'd ; 
 For thither he assembled all his train, 
 Pretending so commanded to consult 
 About the great reception of their king 
 Thither to come, and with calumnious art 
 Of counterfeited truth thus held their ears : 
 
 Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 
 If these magnific titles yet remain 
 Not merely titular, since by decree 
 Another now hath to himself engross'd 
 All power, and us eclips'd under the name 
 Of king anointed, for whom all this haste 
 Of midnight march, and hurried meeting here, 
 This only to consult how we may best 
 With what may be devis'd of honours new, 
 Receive him coming to receive from us 
 Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile, 
 Too much to one, but double how endur'd, 
 To one and to his image now proclaim'd ? 
 But what if better counsels might erect 
 Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke ? 
 Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend 
 The supple knee ? ye will not, if I trust 
 To know ye right, or if ye know yourselves 
 Natives and sons of heav'n possess'd before 
 By none, and if not equal all, yet free. 
 Equally free ; for orders and degrees 
 Jar not with liberty, but well consist. 
 Who can in reason then or right assume 
 Monarchy over such as live by right 
 His equals, if in power and splendour less, 
 In freedom equal ? or can introduce 
 Law and edict on us, who without law 
 Err not? much less for this to be our Lord, 
 And look for adoration to ih' abuse 
 
I.j2 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK Y. 
 
 Of those imperial titles, which assert 
 Our being ordain'd to govern, not to server. 
 
 Thus far his bold discourse without contro! 
 Had audience, when among the seraphim, 
 Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal ador'd 
 The Deity, and divine commands obey'd^ 
 Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe 
 The current of his fary thus oppos'd : 
 
 O argument blasphemous, false and proud f 
 Words which no e3:r ever to hear in heav'n 
 Expected, least of all from thee, ingrate. 
 In place thyself so high above thy peers. 
 Canst thou with impious obloquy condenffin 
 The just decree of God, pronounc'd and sworn, 
 That to his only Son by right endued 
 With regal sceptre, every soul in Heaven 
 Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due 
 Confess him rightful King? unjust, thou say'st, 
 Flatly unjust, to bind Avith laws the free. 
 And equal over equals to let reign, 
 One over all with unsucceeded power. 
 Shalt thou give law to God, shalt thou dispute 
 With him the points of liberty ^ who made 
 Thee what thou art, and form'd the powers of heav'n 
 Such as he pleas'd, and circumscrib'd their being? 
 Yet by experience taught we know how good, 
 And of our good and of our dignity 
 How provident he is, how far from thought 
 To make us less, bent rather to exalt 
 Our happy state under one head more near 
 United. But to grant it thee unjust, 
 That equal over equals monarch reign : 
 Thyself though great and glorious dost thou counl, 
 Or all angelic nature join'd in one, 
 Equal to him begotten Son ? by whom 
 As by his word the mighty Father made 
 All thing's, e'en thee ; and all the spirits of heav*n 
 By him created in their bright degrees, 
 CroAvn'd them with glory, and to their glory nam*d 
 
SDOK v.] PARADISE LOST. 143 
 
 Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers. 
 Essential pow'rs ; nor by his reign obscrir'd, 
 But more illustrious made ; since he the head 
 One of our number thus reduc'd becomes ; 
 His laws our laws ; all honour to him done 
 Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage, 
 And tempt not these ; but hasten to appease 
 Th' incensed Father^ and th' incensed Son, 
 While pardon may be found in time besought. 
 
 So spake the fervent angel ; but his zeal 
 None seconded, as out of season judg'd. 
 Or singular and rash, whereat rejoic'd, 
 Th' apostate, and more haughty thus reply'd : 
 
 That we were form'd then say'st thou ? and the work 
 Of secondary hands, by task transferr'd 
 From Father to his Son ? strange point and new ! 
 Doctrine which we would know whence learn'd : who 
 
 saw 
 When this creation was ? remember'st thou 
 Thy making, while the Maker gave thee being ? 
 We know no time when we were not as now ; 
 Know none before us, self-begot, self-rais'd 
 By our own quick'ning pow'r, when fatal course 
 Had circled his full orb, the birth mature 
 Of this our native heav'n, ethereal sons. 
 Our puissance is our own : our own right hand 
 Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try 
 Who is our equal : then thou shalt behold 
 Whether by supplication we intend 
 Address, and to begirt th' almighty throne 
 Beseeching or besieging. This report, 
 These tidings carry to th' anointed King j 
 And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight. 
 
 He said, and as the sound of waters deep, 
 Hoarse murmur echo'd to his words applause 
 Through the infinite host ; nor less for that 
 The flaming seraph fearless, though alone, 
 Encompass'd round with foes, thus answer'd bold: 
 
141 PARADISE LOST. ' [bOOK T. 
 
 O alienate from God, O spirit accurs'd, 
 Forsaken of all good ; I see thy fall 
 DeteiiTiin'd, and thy hapless crew involv'd 
 In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread 
 Both of thy crime and punishment : henceforth 
 No more be troubled how to quit the yoke 
 Of God's Messiah : those indulgent laws 
 Will not be now vouchsaf'd ; other decrees 
 Against thee are gone forth without recal ; 
 That golden sceptre, which thou didst reject, 
 Is now an iron rod to bruise and break 
 Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise, 
 Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly 
 These wicked^ents devoted, lest the wrath 
 Impendent, raging into sudden flame 
 Distinguish not : for soon expect to feel 
 His thunder on thy head, devouring fire. 
 Then who created thee lamenting learn, 
 When who can uncreate thee thou shall know. 
 
 So spake the seraph Abdiel, faitliful foimd 
 Among the faithless, faithful only he ; 
 Among innumerable false, unmov'd, 
 Unshaken, unseduc'd, uuterrify'd, 
 His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal ; 
 Nor number, nor example with him wrought 
 To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind 
 Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd, 
 Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustaiii'd 
 Superior, nor of violence fear'd ought ; 
 And with retorted scorn his back he turn'd 
 On those proud tow'rs to swift destruction doom'd 
 
 END OF r ^OK FIFTH. 
 
SIXTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were seni 
 forth to battle against Satan and his angels. The first fight de- 
 scribed : Satan and his powers retire under night : he calls a 
 council, invents devilish engines, which, in the second day's 
 fight, put Michael and his angels to some disorder ; but they at 
 length, pulling up mountains, overwhelmed both the force and 
 machines of Satan : yet, the tumult not so ending, God on the 
 third day, sends Messiah his son, for whom he had reserved the 
 glory of that victory : he, in the power of his Father, coming to 
 the place, and causing all his legions to stand still on either side, 
 with his chariot and thunder driving into the midst of his ene- 
 mies, pursues them, unable to resist, towards the wall of Heaven ; 
 which opening, they leap down with horror and confusion into 
 the place of punishment prepared for them in the deep : Messiah 
 returns with triumph to hb father. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 All night the dreadless angel unpursu'd 
 
 Through heav'n's wide champaign held his way ; till 
 
 morn, 
 Wak'd by the circling hours, with rosy hand 
 Unbarr'd the gates of light. There is a cave 
 Within the mount of God, fast by his throne, 
 Where light and darkness in perpetual round 
 Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through 
 
 heav'n 
 Grateful vicissitude, like day and night ; 
 Light issues forth, and at the other door 
 Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour 
 To veil the heav'n, though darkness there might 
 
 well 
 Seem twilight here : and now went forth the morn 
 Such as in highest heav'n, array 'd in gold 
 Empyreal ; from before her vanish'd night, 
 Shot through with orient beams ; when all the plain 
 Cover'd with thick embattled squadrons bright, 
 Chariots and flaming arms, and fiery steeds 
 Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view : 
 War he perceiv'd, war in procinct,^^ and found 
 Already known, what he for news had thought 
 
 * " War in procinct :'' war prepared, or ready- girded. 
 
148 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK TI 
 
 To have reported : gladly then he mix'd 
 Among those friendly pow'rs, who him receiv'd 
 With joy and acclamations lotid, that one, 
 That of so many myriads fall'n, yet one 
 Return'd not lost : on to the sacred hill 
 They led him high applauded, and present 
 Before the seat supreme ; from whence a voice 
 From midst a golden cloud thus mild was heard : 
 
 Servant of God, well done, well hast thou fought 
 The better fight, who single hast maintain'd 
 Against revolted multitudes the cause 
 Of truih, in word mightier than they in arms; 
 And for the testimony of truth hast borne 
 Universal reproach, far worse to bear 
 Than violence ; for this was all thy care 
 To stand approv'd, in sight of God, though worlds 
 Judg'd thee perverse : the easier conquest now 
 Remains thee, aided by this host of friends, 
 Back on thy foes more glorious to return 
 Than scorn'd thou didst depart, and to subdue 
 By force, who reason for their law refuse, 
 Right reason for their law, and for their King 
 Messiah ; who by right of merit reigns. 
 Go Michael of celestial armies prince. 
 And thou in military prowess next 
 Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons 
 Invincible, lead forth my armed saints 
 By thousands and by millions rang'd for fight, 
 Equal in number to that godless crew 
 Rebellious : them with fire and hostile arms 
 Fearless assault, and to the brow of heav'n 
 Pursuing drive them out from God and bliss 
 Into their place of punishment, the gulf 
 Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide 
 His fiery chaos to receive their fall. 
 
 So spake the sov'reign voice, and clouds began 
 To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll 
 In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign 
 Of wrath awak'd ; nor with less dread the loud 
 
BOOK VI.l PARADISE LOST. 14.9 
 
 Ethereal trumpet from on high 'gan blow : 
 At which command the powers militant, 
 That stood for heav'n, in mighty quadrate join'd 
 Of union irresistable, mov'd on 
 In silence their bright legions, to the sound 
 Of instrumental harmony, that breath'd 
 Heroic ardour to advent'rous deeds 
 Under their godlike leaders, in the cause 
 Of God and his Messiah. On they move 
 Indissolubly firm ; nor obvious hill, 
 Nor strait'ning vale, nor wood, nor stream divides 
 Their perfect ranks ; for high above the ground 
 Their march was, and the passive air upbore 
 Their nimble tread ; as when the total kind 
 Of birds, in orderly array on wing, 
 Came summon'd over Eden to receive 
 Their names of thee ; so over many a trax:t 
 Of heav'n they march'd, and many a province wide 
 Tenfold the length of this terrene : at last 
 Far in th' horizon to the north appear'd 
 From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretch'd 
 In battailous aspect, and nearer view 
 Bristled with upright beams innumerable 
 Of rigid spears, and helmets throng'd, and shields 
 Various ; with boastful argument portray'd, 
 The banded pow'rs of Satan hasting on 
 With furious expedition ; for they ween'd 
 That self-same day by fight, or by surprise, 
 To win the mount of God, and on his throne 
 To set the envier of his state, the proud 
 Aspirer, but their thoughts prov'd fond and vain 
 In the mid-way ; though strange to us it seem'd 
 At first, that angel should with angel war, 
 And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet 
 So oft in festivals of joy and love 
 Unanimous, as sons of one great sire 
 Hymning th' eternal Father^; but the shout 
 Of battle now began, and rushing sound 
 Of onset ended soon each milder thought, 
 13* ^ 
 
150 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VI. 
 
 High in the midst exalted as a God 
 
 Th' apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat, 
 
 Idol of majesty divine, enclos'd 
 
 With flaming cherubim and golden shields ; 
 
 Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now 
 
 'Twixt host and host but narrow space wa*^ le^t 
 
 A dreadful interval, and front to front 
 
 Presented, stood in terrible array 
 
 Of hideous length : before the cloudy van, 
 
 On the rough edge of battle ere it join'd, 
 
 Satan with vast and haughty strides advanc'd 
 
 Came tow'ring, arm'd in adamant and gold: 
 
 Abdiel that sight endur'd not, where he stood 
 
 Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, 
 
 And thus his own undaunted heart explores : 
 
 O heav'n ! that such resemblance of the Highest 
 Should yet remain, where faith and realty 
 Remain not : wherefore should not strength and might 
 There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove 
 Where boldest, though to sight unconquerable ? 
 His puissance, trusting in th' Almighty's aid, 
 I mean to try, whose reason I have try'd 
 Unsound and false ; nor is it ought but just, 
 That he who in debate of truth hath won, 
 Should win in arms, in both disputes alike 
 Victor : though brutish that contest, and foul, 
 When reason hath to deal with force, yet so 
 Most reason is that reason overcome. 
 
 So pondering, and from his armed peers 
 Forth stepping opposite, half-way he met 
 His daring foe, at this prevention more 
 Incens'd, and thus securely him defy'd : 
 
 Proud, art thou met ? thy hope was to have reach 'd 
 The height of thy aspiring unoppos'd. 
 The throne of God'unguarded, and his side 
 Abandon'd at the terror of thy power 
 Or potent tongue : fool, not to think how vain 
 Against th' Omnipotent to rise in arms ; 
 Who out of smallest thino-s could without end 
 
BOOK VI.] PARADISE LOST. 151 
 
 Have rais'd incessant armies to defeat 
 
 Thy folly ; or with solitary hand 
 
 Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow 
 
 Unaided could have finish'd thee, and whelm'd 
 
 Thy legions under darkness : but thou seest 
 
 All are not of thy train ; there be who faith 
 
 Prefer, and piety to God, though then 
 
 To thee not visible, when I alone 
 
 Seem'd in thy world erroneous to dissent 
 
 From all : my sect thou seest ; now learn too late 
 
 How few sometimes may know, when thousands err. 
 
 Whom the grand foe with scornful eye askance 
 Thus answer'd : 111 for thee, but in wish'd hour 
 Of my revenge first sought, for thou return'st 
 From flight, seditious angel, to receive 
 Thy merited reward, the first assay 
 Of this right hand provok'd, since first that tongue 
 Inspired with contradiction durst oppose 
 A third part of the gods, in synod met 
 Their deities to assert, who while they feel 
 Vigour divine within them, can allow 
 Omnipotence to none. But well thou com'ct 
 Before thy fellows, ambitious to win 
 From me some plume, that thy success may show 
 Destruction to the rest : this pause between 
 (Unanswer'd lest thou boast) to let thee know ; 
 At first I thought that liberty and heav'n 
 To heavenly souls had been all one ; but now 
 I see that most through sloth had rather serve, 
 Minist'ring spirits, train'd up in feast and song ; 
 Such hast thou arm'd, the minstrelsy of heav'n, 
 Servility with freedom to contend, 
 As both their deeds compar'd this day shall prove. 
 
 To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern reply'd : 
 Apostate, still thou err'st, nor end wilt find 
 Of erring, from the path of truth remote : 
 Unjustly thou deprav'st it with the name 
 Of servitude to serve whom God ordains, 
 Or Nature i God and Nature bid the same, 
 
152 PARADISE LOST. [boOK VI. 
 
 When lie who rules is worthiest, and excels 
 Them whom he governs. This is servitude 
 To serve th' unwise, or him who hath rebell'd 
 Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, 
 Thyself not free, but to thyself inthral'd ; 
 Yet lewdly dar'st our minist'ring upbraid. 
 Reign thou in hell thy kingdom ; let me serve 
 In heav'n God ever blest, and his divine 
 Behests obey, worthiest to be obey'd : 
 Yet chains in hell, not realms expect : meanwhile 
 From me return'd as erst thou saidst, from flight, 
 This greeting on thy impious crest receive. 
 So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high. 
 Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell 
 On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight, 
 Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield 
 Such ruin intercept : ten paces huge 
 He back recoil'd ; the tenth on bended knee 
 His massy spear upstay'd ; as if on earth. 
 Winds under ground, or waters forcing way. 
 Sidelong had push'd a mountain from his seat 
 Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement soiz'd 
 The rebel thrones, but greater rage to see 
 Thus foil'd their mightiest ; ours joy iill'd, and shout 
 Presage of victory, and fierce desire 
 Of battle : whereat Michael bid sound 
 Th' arch-angel trumpet : through the vast of heav'n 
 It sounded, and the faithful armies rung 
 Hosanna to the Highest : nor stood at gaze 
 The adverse legions, nor less hideous join'd 
 The horrid shock : now storming fury rose, 
 And clamour such as heard in heav'n till no .v 
 Was never; arms on armour clashing bray'd 
 Horrible discord, and the madding wheels 
 Of brazen chariots rag'd ; dire was the noi'sfi 
 Of conflict ; over head the dismal hiss 
 Of fiery darts in flaming vollies flew, 
 And flying vaulted either host with fire : 
 So undei ^-ery cope toget^-er rush'd 
 
BOOK VI.] PARADISE LOST. 153 
 
 Both battles main, with ruinous assault 
 
 And inextinguishable rage ; all heav'n 
 
 Resounded, and had earth been then, all earth 
 
 Had to her centre shook. What wonder ? when 
 
 Millions of fierce encount'ring angels fought 
 
 On either side, the least of whom could wield 
 
 These elements, and arm him with the force 
 
 Of all their regions : how much more of pow'r 
 
 Army against army numberless to raise 
 
 Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb. 
 
 Though not destroy, their happy native seat ; 
 
 Had not th' eternal King omnipotent 
 
 From his strong hold of heav'n high over-rul'd 
 
 And limited their might ; though number'd such 
 
 As each divided legion might have seem'd 
 
 A numerous host, in strength each armed hand 
 
 A legion, led in fight yet leader seem'd 
 
 Each warrior single as in chief, expert 
 
 When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway 
 
 Of battle, open when, and when to close 
 
 The ridges of grim war : no thought of flight, 
 
 None of retreat, no unbecoming deed 
 
 That argued fear : each on himself rely'd, 
 
 As only in his arm the moment lay 
 
 Of victory : deeds of eternal fame 
 
 Were done, but infinite : for wide was spread 
 
 That war and various, sometimes on firm ground 
 
 A standing fight, then soaring on main wing 
 
 Tormented all the air ; all air seem'd then 
 
 Conflicting fire : long time in even scale 
 
 The battle hung : till Satan, who that day 
 
 Prodigious pow'r had shown, and met in arms 
 
 No equal, ranging through the dire attack 
 
 Of fighting seraphim confus'd, at length 
 
 Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and fell'd 
 
 Squadrons at once ; with huge two-handed sway 
 
 Brandish'd aloft the horrid edge came down 
 
 Wide wasting ; such destruction to withstand 
 
 He hasted, and oppos'd the rocky orb 
 
164 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK VI. 
 
 Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield, 
 A vast circumference : at his approach 
 The great arch-angel from his warlike toil 
 Surceas'd, and glad as hoping here to end 
 Intestine war in heav'n, th' arch foe subdu'd 
 Or captive dragg'd in chains, with hostile frown 
 And visage all inflam'd first thus began : 
 
 Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt, 
 Unnam'd in heav'n, now plenteous, as thou seest 
 These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all. 
 Though heaviest by just measure on thyself 
 And thy adherents : how hast thou disturb'd 
 Heav'n's blessed peace, and into nature brought 
 Misery, uncreated till the crime 
 Of thy rebellion ? how hast thou instill'd 
 Thy malice into thousands, once upright 
 And faithful, now prov'd false ? But think not here 
 To trouble holy rest ; heav'n cast thee out 
 From all her confines. Heav'n the seat of bliss 
 Brooks not the works of violence and war. 
 Hence then, and evil go with thee along, 
 Thy offspring, to the place of evil, hell, 
 Thou and thy wicked crew ; there mingle broils, 
 Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, 
 Or some more sudden vengeance wing'd from God 
 Precipitate thee with augmented pain. 
 
 So spake the prince of angels : to whom thus 
 The adversary : Nor think thou with wind 
 Of airy threats to awe whom yet with deeds 
 Thou canst not. Hast thou turn'd the least of these 
 To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise 
 TJnvanquish'd, easier to transact with me, 
 That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats 
 To chase me hence ? err not that so shall end 
 The strife which thou call'st evil, but we style 
 The strife of glory : which we mean to win. 
 Or turn this heav'n itself into the hell 
 Thou fablest, here however to dwell free, 
 If not to reign : meanwhile thy utmost force, 
 
BOOK VI.] PARADISE LOST. 155 
 
 And join him nam'd Almighty to thy aid, 
 
 I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh. 
 
 They ended parle, and both address'd for fight 
 
 Unspeakable ; for who, though with the tongue 
 
 Of angels, can relate, or to what things 
 
 Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift 
 
 Human imagination to such height 
 
 Of godlike pow'r ? for likest gods they seem'd, 
 
 Stood they or mov'd, in stature, motion, arms, 
 
 Fit to decide the empire of great heav'n. 
 
 Now wav'd their fiery swords, and in the air 
 
 Made horrid circles ; two broad suns their shields 
 
 Blaz'd opposite, while expectation stood 
 
 In horror ; from each hand with speed retir'd. 
 
 Where erst was thickest fight, th' angelic throng, 
 
 And left large field, unsafe within the wind 
 
 Of such commotion ; such as, to set forth 
 
 Great things by small, if nature's concord broke, 
 
 Among the constellations war were sprung, 
 
 Two planets rushing from aspect malign 
 
 Of fiercest opposition in mid sky 
 
 Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. 
 
 Together both with next to almighty arm 
 
 Up-lifted imminent, one stroke they aim'd 
 
 That might determine, and not need repeat, 
 
 As not of pow'r at once ; and odds appear'd 
 
 In might or swift prevention : but the sword 
 
 Of Michael from the armoury of God 
 
 Was given him temper'd so, that neither keeri 
 
 Nor solid might resist that edge : it met 
 
 The sword of Satan with steep force to smite 
 
 Descending, and in half cut sheer ; nor stay'd, 
 
 But with swift wheel reverse, deep ent'ring shar'd 
 
 All his right side : then Satan first knew pain, 
 
 And writh'd him to and fro convolv'd : so sore 
 
 The griding sword with discontinuous wound 
 
 Pass'd through him : but th' etherial substance clos'd, 
 
 Not long divisible ; and from the gash 
 
 A stream of nect'rous humour, issuing flow'd 
 
156 , PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VI. 
 
 Sanguine, such as celestial spirits may bleed, 
 And all his armour stain'd erewhile so bright. 
 Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run 
 By angels many and strong, who interpos'd 
 Defence, while others bore him on their shields 
 Back to his chariot, where it stood retir'd 
 From off the files of war ; there they him laid 
 Gnashing for anguish, and despite and shame, 
 To find himself not matchless, and his pride 
 Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath 
 His confidence to equal God in pow'r. 
 Yet soon he heal'd; for spirits that live throughout 
 Vital in every part, not as frail man 
 In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, 
 Cannot but by annihilating die ; 
 Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound 
 Receive, no more than can the fluid air ; 
 All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, 
 All intellect, all sense ; and as they please. 
 They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size 
 Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare. 
 
 Meanwhile in other parts like deeds deserv'd 
 Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought. 
 And with fierce ensigns pierc'd the deep array 
 Of Moloch furious king ; who him defy'd, 
 And at his chariot wheels to drag him bound 
 Threaten'd, nor from the Holy One of heav'n 
 Refrain'd his tongue blasphemous ; but anon 
 Down cloven to the waist, with shatter'd arms 
 And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing 
 Uriel and Raphael his vaunting foe. 
 Though huge, and in a rock of diamond arm'd, 
 Vanquish'd Adramelech, and Asmadai, 
 Two potent thrones, that to be less than gods 
 Disdain'd, but meaner thoughts learn'd in their flight, 
 Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and maiL 
 Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy 
 The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow 
 Ariel and Arioch, and the violence 
 
BOOKV] PARADISE LOST. 157 
 
 Of Ramial, scorch'd and blasted overthrew. 
 I might relate of thousands, and their names 
 Eternize here on earth : but those elect 
 Angels contented with their fame in heav'n, 
 Seek not the praise of men ; the other sort, 
 In might though wondrous and in acts of war. 
 Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom 
 Cancel'd from heav'n and sacred memory, 
 Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. 
 For strength from truth divided and from just, 
 lUaudable naught merits but dispraise 
 And ignominy, yet to glory aspires 
 Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame ; 
 Therefore eternal silence be their doom. 
 
 And now their mightiest quell'd, the battle swerv'd 
 With many an inroad gor'd ; deformed rout 
 Enter'd, and foul disorder ; all the ground 
 With shiver'd armour strown, and on a heap 
 Chariot and charioteer lay overturn'd, 
 And fiery foaming steeds ; what stood, recoil'd 
 O'er-wearied, through the faint satanic host 
 Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surpris'd, 
 Then first with fear surpris'd and sense of pain. 
 Fled ignominious, to such evil brought 
 By sin of disobedience, till that hour 
 Not liable to fear, or flight, or pain. 
 Far otherwise th' inviolable saints 
 In cubic phalanx firm advanc'd entire. 
 Invulnerable, impenetrably arm'd ; 
 Such high advantages their innocence 
 Gave them above their foes, not to have sinn'd, 
 Not to have disobey'd ; in fight they stood 
 Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pain'd 
 By wound, though from their place by violence mov'd 
 
 Now night her course began, and over heav'n 
 Inducing darkness, grateful truce impos'd, 
 And silence on the odious din of war : 
 Under her cloudy covert both retir'd, 
 Victor and vanquish 'dj on the foughten field 
 U 
 
158 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK VI. 
 
 Michael and his angels prevalent 
 
 Encamping, plac'd in guard their watches round, 
 
 Cherubic waving fires : on th' other part 
 
 Satan with his rebellious disappear'd, 
 
 Far in the dark dislodg'd ; and void of rest, 
 
 His potentates to council call'd by night ; 
 
 And in the midst thus undismay'd began : 
 
 now in danger try'd, now known in arms 
 Not to be overpow'r'd, companions dear, 
 Found worthy not of liberty alone, 
 Too mean pretence, but what we more affect, 
 Honour, dominion, glory, and renown ; 
 Who have sustain'd one day in doubtful fight 
 (And if one day, why not eternal days ?) 
 What heav'n's Lord had pow'rfullest to send 
 Against us from about his throne, and judg'd 
 Sufficient to subdue us to his will, 
 But proves not so ; then fallible it seems, 
 Of future we may deem him, though till now 
 Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly arm*(!. 
 Some disadvantage we endur'd, and pain, 
 Till now not known, but known as soon contemn'd ; 
 Since now we find this our empyreal form 
 Incapable of mortal injury, 
 Imperishable, and though pierc'd with wound, 
 Soon closing, and by native vigour heal'd. 
 Of evil then so small as easy think 
 The remedy ; perhaps more valid arms, 
 Weapons more violent, when next we meet. 
 May serve to better us, and worse our foes. 
 Or equal what between us made the odds, 
 In nature none : if other hidden cause 
 Left them superior, while we can preserve 
 Unhurt our minds and understanding sound, 
 Due search and consultation will disclose. 
 
 He sat ; and in th' assembly next upstood 
 Nisroch, of principalities the prime ; 
 As one he stood escap'd from cruel fight. 
 
BOOK VI.] PARADISE LOST. 1(J9 
 
 Sore toil, his riven arms to havoc hewn, 
 And cloudy in aspect thus answering spake: 
 
 Deliverer from new lords, leader to free 
 Enjoyment of our rights as gods ; yet hard 
 For gods, and too unequal work we find, 
 Against unequal arms to fight in pain, 
 Against unpain'd, impassive ; from which evil 
 Ruin must needs ensue ; for what avails 
 Valour or strength, though matchless, quell'd with pain 
 Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands 
 Of mightiest ? Sense of pleasure we may well 
 Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine. 
 But live content, which is the calmest life : 
 But pain is perfect misery, the worst 
 Of evils, and excessive, overturns 
 All patience. He who therefore can invent 
 With what more forcible we may offend 
 Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm 
 Ourselves with like defence, to me deserves 
 No less than for deliverance what we owe. 
 
 Whereto with look compos 'd Satan reply 'd : 
 Not uninvented that, which thou aright 
 Believ'st so main to our success, I bring 
 Which of us who beholds the bright surface 
 Of this etherous mould whereon w^e stand, 
 This continent of spacious heav'n adorn'd 
 With plant, fruit, flow'r ambrosial, gems and gold ; 
 Whose eye so superficially surveys 
 These things, as not to mind from whence they grow 
 Deep under ground, materials dark and crude. 
 Of spirituous and fiery spume, till touch'd 
 With heaven's ray, and temper'd they shoot forth 
 So beauteous, opening to the ambient light ? 
 These in their dark nativity the deep 
 Shall yield us pregnant with infernal flame , 
 Which into hollow engines long and round 
 Thick-ramm'd, at th' other bore with touch of fire 
 Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth 
 From far with thund'ring rK>ise among our foes 
 
160 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VL 
 
 Such implements of mischief, as shall dash 
 To pieces, and o'erwhelm whatever stands 
 Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarm 'd 
 The Thund'rer of his only dreaded bolt. 
 Nor long shall be our labour : yet ere dawn, 
 Effect shall end our wish. Meanwhile revive ; 
 Abandon fear ; to strength and council join'd 
 Think nothing hard, much less to be despair'd. 
 
 He ended, and his words their drooping cheer 
 Efnlighten'd, and their languish'd hope reviv'd. 
 Th' invention all admir'd, and each, how he 
 To be th' inventor miss'd ; so easy it seem'd 
 Once found, which yet unfound most would have tho't 
 Impossible : yet haply of thy race 
 In future days, if malice should abound, 
 Some one intent on mischief, or inspir'd 
 With dev'lish machination, might devise 
 Like instrument to plague the sons of men 
 For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. 
 Forthwith from council to the work they flew ; 
 Nor arguing stood ; innumerable hands 
 Were ready ; in a moment up they turn'd 
 Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath 
 Th' originals of nature in their crude 
 Conception : sulphurous and nitrous-foam 
 They found, they mingled, and with subtle art, 
 Concocted and adusted they reduc'd 
 To blackest grain, and into store convey'd ; 
 Part hidden veins digg'd up (nor hath this earth 
 Entrails unlike) of mineral and stone. 
 Whereof to found their engines and their balls 
 Of missive ruin ; part incentive reed 
 Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire. 
 So all ere day-spring, under conscious night 
 Secret they finish'd, and in order set. 
 With silent circumspection unespy'd. 
 
 Now when fair morn orient in heav'n appear'd, 
 Up rose the victor angels, and to arms 
 The matin trumpet sung : in arms they stood 
 
BOOK VI.] PARADISE LOST. 16] 
 
 Of golden panoply, refulgent host, 
 
 Soon banded ; other from the dawning hills 
 
 Look'd round, and scouts each coast, light-armed scour 
 
 Each quarter, to descry the distant foe. 
 
 Where lodg'd, or whither fled, or if for fight, 
 
 In motion, or in halt ; him soon they met 
 
 Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow 
 
 But firm battalion ; back with speediest sail 
 
 Zophiel, of cherubim the swiftest wing. 
 
 Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cry'd : 
 
 Arm, warriors, arm for fight ; the foe at hand. 
 Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit 
 This day ; fear not his flight ; so thick a cloud 
 He comes, and settled in his face I see 
 Sad resolution and secure : let each 
 His adamantine coat gird well, and each 
 Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield. 
 Borne even or high ; for this day will pour down, 
 If I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower. 
 But rattling storm o/ arrows barb'd with fire. 
 
 So warn'd he them aware themselves, and soon 
 In order, quit of all impediment, 
 Instant without disturb they took alarm, 
 And onward mov'd embattled : when behold 
 Not distant far with heavy pace the foe 
 Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube 
 Training his dev'lish enginery, empal'd 
 On every side with shadowing squadrons deep, 
 To hide the fraud. At interview both stood 
 Awhile ; but suddenly at head appear'd 
 Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud : 
 
 Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold ! 
 That all may see who hate us, how we seek 
 Peace and composure, and with open breast 
 Stand ready to receive them, if they like 
 Our overture, and turn not back perverse ; 
 But that I doubt : however witness heav'n, 
 Heav'n witness thou anon, while we discharge 
 Freely our part : ye who appointed stand, 
 14 * 
 
162 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK VI. 
 
 Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch 
 What we propound, and loud that all may hear. 
 
 So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce 
 Had ended; when to right and left the front 
 Divided, and to either flank retir'd : 
 Which to our eyes discover'd, new and strange, 
 A triple-mounted row of pillars laid 
 On wheels, (for like to pillars most they seem'd, 
 Or hollow'd bodies made of oak or fir, 
 With branches lopt, in wood or mountain fell'd) 
 Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths 
 With hideous orifice gap'd on us wide. 
 Protending hollow truce : at each behind 
 A seraph stood, and in his hands a reed 
 Stood waving tipt with fire ; while we suspense, 
 Collected stood within our thoughts amus'd, 
 Not long, for sudden all at once their reeds 
 Put forth, and to a narrow vent apply 'd 
 With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame. 
 But soon obscur'd with smoke, all heav'n appeared 
 From those deep-throated engines belch'd, whose roar 
 Embowel'd with outrageous noise the air, 
 And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul 
 Their dev'lish glut, chain 'd thunderbolts and hail 
 Of iron globes ; which on the victor host 
 Levell'd, with such impetuous fury smote, 
 That whom they hit, none on their feet might stand, 
 Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell 
 By thousands, angel on arch-angel roll'd ; 
 The sooner for their arms ; unarm'd they might 
 Have easily as spirits evaded swift 
 By swift contraction or remove ; but now 
 Foul dissipation foUow'd and forc'd rout ; 
 Nor serv'd it to relax their serried files. 
 What should they do ? if on they rush'd, repulse 
 Repeated, and indecent overthrow 
 Doubled, would render them yet more despis'd, 
 And to their foes a laughter ; for in view 
 Stood rank'd of seraphim another row, 
 
BOOK VI.J PARADISE LOST. 163 
 
 In posture to displode their second tier 
 
 Of thunder : back defeated to return 
 
 They worse abhorr'd. Satan beheld their plight, 
 
 And to his mates thus in derision call'd : 
 
 O friends, why come not on these victors proud ? 
 Erewhile they fierce were coming ; and when we, 
 To entertain them fair with open front 
 And breast (what could we more ?) propounded terms 
 Of composition, straight they changed their minds. 
 Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, 
 As they would dance, yet for a dance they seem'd 
 Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps 
 For joy of offer'd peace : but I suppose. 
 If our proposals once again were heard. 
 We should compel them to a quick result. 
 
 To whom thus Belial in like gamesom.e mood : 
 Leader, the terms we sent were terms of weight. 
 Of hard contents, and full of force urg'd home, 
 Such as we might perceive amus'd them all, 
 And stumbled many ; who receives them right 
 Had need from head to foot well understand ; 
 Not understood, this gift they have besides, 
 They show us when our foes walk not upright. 
 
 So they among themselves in pleasant vein 
 Stood scoffing, heighten'd in their thoughts beyond 
 All doubt of victory: eternal might 
 To match with their inventions they presum'd. 
 So easy, and of his thunder made a scorn. 
 And all his host derided, while they stood 
 Awhile in trouble : but they stood not long : 
 Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms 
 Against such hellish mischief fit t' oppose. 
 Forthwith (behold the excellence, the pow'r, 
 Which God hath in his mighty angels plac'd,) 
 Their arms away they threw, and to the hills 
 (For earth has this variety from heav'n 
 Of pleasure situate in hill and dale,) 
 Light as the lightning glimpse they ran, they flew ; 
 Fiom their foundations loos'ning to and fro, 
 
164 PARADISE LOST. [boOK VI. 
 
 They pluck'd the seated hills with all their load, 
 
 Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops 
 
 Up-lifting bore them in their hands : amaze, 
 
 Be sure, and terror seiz'd the rebel host, 
 
 When coming towards them so dread they sav/ 
 
 The bottom of the mountains upward turn'd ; 
 
 Till on those cursed engines triple-row 
 
 They saw them whelm'd, and all their confidence 
 
 Under the weight of mountains buried deep ; 
 
 Themselves invaded next, and on their heads 
 
 Main promontories flung, which in the air 
 
 Came shadowing, and oppress'd whole legions arm'd ; 
 
 Their armour help'd their harm, crush'd in and 
 
 bruis'd, 
 Into their substance pent, which wrought them pain 
 Implacable, and many a dolorous groan. 
 Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind 
 Out of such pris'n, though spirits of purest light, 
 Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown. 
 The rest in imitation to like arms 
 Betook them, and the neighb'ring hills uptore ; 
 So hills amid the air encounter'd hills 
 Hurl'd to and fro with jaculation dire. 
 That under ground they fought in dismal shade ; 
 Infernal noise ; war seem'd a civil game 
 To this uproar : horrid confusion heap'd 
 Upon confusion rose : and now all heaven 
 Had gone to wrack with ruin overspread, 
 Had not th' almighty Father, where he sits 
 Shrin'd in his sanctuary of heav'n secure, 
 Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen 
 This tumult, and permitted all, advis'd : 
 That his great purpose he might so fulfil, 
 To honour his anointed Son aveng'd 
 Upon his enemies, and to declare 
 All pow'r on him transferr'd : whence to his Son 
 Th' assessor of his throne he thus began : 
 
 Effulgence of my glory. Son belov'd, 
 Son in whose face invisible is beheld 
 
BOOK VI.] PARADISE LOST, 165 
 
 Visibly, what by deity I am, 
 
 And in whose hand by what decree I do, 
 
 Second Omnipotence, two days are past. 
 
 Two days, as we compute the days of heav'n, 
 
 Since Michael and his pow'rs went forth to tame 
 
 These disobedient : sore hath been their fight, 
 
 As likeliest was, when two such foes met arm'd ; 
 
 For to themselves I left them, and thou know'st, 
 
 Equal in their creation they were form'd, 
 
 Save what sin hath impair'd, which yet hath wrought 
 
 Insensible, for I suspend their doom ; 
 
 Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last 
 
 Endless, and no solution will be found : 
 
 War wearied hath perform'd what war can do. 
 
 And to disorder'd rage let loose the reins, 
 
 With mountains as with weapons arm'd, which makes 
 
 Wild work in heav'n, and dang'rous to the main. 
 
 Two days are therefore past, the third is thine ; 
 
 For thee I have ordain'd it, and thus far 
 
 Have sufier'd, that the glory may be thine 
 
 Of ending this great war, since none but Thou 
 
 Can end it. Into thee such virtue and grace 
 
 Immense I have transfus'd, that all may know 
 
 In heav'n and hell thy pow'r above compare ; 
 
 And this perverse commotion govern'd, thus 
 
 To manifest thee worthiest to be heir 
 
 Of all things, to be heir, and to be King 
 
 By sacred unction, thy deserved right. 
 
 Go then thou mightiest in thy Father's might, 
 
 Ascend my chariot, guide the rapid wheels 
 
 That shake heav'n's basis, bring forth all my war, 
 
 My bow and thunder, my almighty arms 
 
 Gird on; and sword upon thy puissant thigh, 
 
 Pursue these sons of darkness, drive them out 
 
 From all heav'n's bounds into the utter deep : 
 
 There let them learn, as likes them, to despise 
 
 God and Messiah his annointedKing. 
 
 He said, and on his Son with rays direct 
 Shone full : he all his Father full express'd 
 
166 
 
 PARADISE LOST. [TBOOK VI. 
 
 Ineffably into his face receiv'd ; 
 
 And thus the filial Godhead answering spake ; 
 
 O Father, O Supreme of heav'nly Thrones, 
 First, highest, holiest, best, thou always seek'st 
 To glorify thy Son, I always thee. 
 As is most just; this I my glory account. 
 My exaltation, and my whole delight. 
 That thou in me well pleas'd, declar'st thy will 
 Fulfill'd, which to fulfil is all my bliss. 
 Sceptre and pow'r, thy giving, I assume, 
 And gladlier shall resign, when in the end 
 Thou shalt be all in all, and I in thee 
 For ever, and in me all whom thou lov'st : 
 But whom thou hat'st, I hate, and can put on 
 Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on, 
 Image of thee in all things ; and shall soon, 
 Arm'd with thy might, rid heav'n of these rebell'd, 
 To their prepar'd ill mansion driven down, 
 To chains of darkness, and th' undying worm, 
 That from thy just obedience could revolt, 
 Whom to obey is happiness entire. 
 Then shall thy saints unmix'd, and from th' impure 
 Far separate, circling thy holy mount 
 Unfeigned hallelujahs to thee sing, 
 Hymns of high praise, and I among them chief. 
 
 So said, he o'er his sceptre bowing, rose 
 From the right hand of glory where he sat ; 
 And the third sacred morn began to shine. 
 Dawning through heav'n : forth rush'd with whirl- 
 wind sound 
 The chariot of paternal Deity, 
 
 Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn, 
 Itself instinct with spirit, but convoy'd 
 By four cherubic shapes ; four faces each 
 Had wondrous ; as with stars their bodies all, 
 And wings were set with eyes, with eyes the wheels 
 Of beril, and careering fires between ; 
 Over their heads a crystal firmament. 
 Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 
 
BOOK VI.] PARADISE LOST. 167 
 
 Amber, and colours of the show'ry arch. 
 
 He in celestial panoply all arm'd 
 
 Of radiant urim, work divinely wrought, 
 
 Ascended ; at his right hand victory 
 
 Sat eagle-wing'd : beside him hung his bow 
 
 And quiver with three-bolted thunder stor'd, 
 
 And from about him fierce effusion roll'd 
 
 Of smoke and bickering flame and sparkles dire : 
 
 Attended with ten thousand thousand saints. 
 
 He onward came, far off his coming shone ; 
 
 And twenty thousand (I their number heard) 
 
 Chariots of God, half on each hand were seen : 
 
 He on the wings of cherub rode sublime 
 
 On the crystaline sky, in sapphire thron'd 
 
 Illustrious far and wide, but by his own 
 
 First seen; then unexpected joy surpris'd 
 
 When the great ensign of Messiah blaz'd 
 
 Aloft by angels borne, his sign in heaven; 
 
 Under whose conduct Michael soon reduc'd 
 
 His army, circumfus'd on either wing, 
 
 Under their head embodied all one. 
 
 Before him pow'r divine his way prepar'd; 
 
 At his command th' uprooted hills retir'd 
 
 Each to his place ; they heard his voice, and went 
 
 Obsequious ; heav'n his wonted face renew'd, 
 
 And with fresh flow'rets hill and valley smil'd. 
 
 This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdur'd, 
 
 And to rebellious fight rallied their powers 
 
 Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. 
 
 In heavenly spirits could such perverseness dwell ? 
 
 But to convince the proud what signs avail, 
 
 Or wonders move the obdurate to relent ? 
 
 They harden'd more by what might most reclaim, 
 
 Grieving to see his glory, at the sight 
 
 Took envy : and aspiring to his height, 
 
 Stood re-embattled fierce, by force or fraud 
 
 Weening to prosper, and at length prevail 
 
 Against God and Messiah, or to fall 
 
 In universal ruin last ; and now 
 
168 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK VI 
 
 To final battle dreAV, disdaining flight, 
 
 Or faint retreat ; when the great Son of God 
 
 To all his host on either hand thus spake : 
 
 Stand still in bright array, ye saints, here stand 
 Ye angels arm'd, this day from battle rest ; 
 Faithful hath been your warfare, and of God 
 Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause, 
 And as ye have receiv'd, so have ye done 
 Invincibly; but of this cursed crew 
 The punishment to other hand belongs ; 
 Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints ; 
 Number to this day's work is not ordain'd, 
 Nor multitude ; stand only and behold 
 God's indignation on these godless pour'd 
 By me ; not you but me they have despis'd, 
 Yet envied ; against me is all their rage. 
 Because the Father, t' whom in heav'n supreme 
 Kingdom and pow'r and glory appertains, 
 Hath honour'd me according to his will. 
 Therefore to me their doom he hath assign'd 
 That they may have their wish, to try with me 
 In battle which the stronger proves, they all, 
 Or I alone against them, since by strength 
 They measure all, of other excellence 
 Not omulous, nor care who them excels ; 
 Nor other strife with them do I vouchsafe. 
 
 So spake the Son, and into terror chang'd 
 His count'nance too severe to be beheld, 
 And full of wrath bent on his enemies. 
 At once the four spread out their starry wings 
 With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs 
 Of his fierce chariot roll'd, as with the sound . 
 Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. 
 He on his impious foes right onward drove, 
 Gloomy as night ; under his burning wheels 
 The steadfast empyrean shook throughout, 
 All but the throne itself of God. Full soon 
 Among them he arriv'd, in his right hand 
 Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent 
 
BOOK VI.] PARADISE LOST. 169 
 
 Before him, such as in their souls infix'd 
 
 Plagues ; they astonish'd all resistance lost, 
 
 All courage : down their idle weapons dropt ; 
 
 O'er shields and helms and helmed heads he rode 
 
 Of thrones and mighty seraphim prostrate, 
 
 That wish'd the mountains now might be again 
 
 Thrown on them as a shelter from his ire. 
 
 Nor less on either side tempestuous fell 
 
 His arrows, from the four -fold visag'd four 
 
 Distinct with eyes and from the living wheels 
 
 Distinct alike with multitude of eyes ; 
 
 One spirit in them rul'd, and every eye 
 
 Glar'd lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire 
 
 Among th' accurs'd, that wither'd all their strength, 
 
 And of their wonted vigour left them drain'd, 
 
 Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fall'n. 
 
 Yet half his strength he put not forth, but check'd 
 
 His thunder in mid volley ; for he meant 
 
 Not to destroy, but root them out of heav'n : 
 
 The overthrown he rais'd, and as a herd 
 
 Of goats or timorous flock together throng'd 
 
 Drove them before him thunderstruck, pursued 
 
 With terrors and with furies to the bounds 
 
 And crystal wall of heav'n, which opening wide, 
 
 Roll'd inward, and a spacious gap disclos'd 
 
 Into the wasteful deep ; the monstrous sight 
 
 Struck them with horror backward, but far AVorse 
 
 Urg'd them behind ; headlong themselves they threw 
 
 Down from the verge of heaven ; eternal wrath 
 
 Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. 
 
 Hell heard th' unsuflerable noise, hell saw 
 Heav'n ruining from heav'n, and would have fled 
 Affrighted; but strict fate had cast too deep 
 Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. 
 Nine days they fell ; confounded Chaos roar'd, 
 And felt tenfold confusion in their fall 
 Through his wild anarchy, so huge a rout 
 Encumber' d him wit'n ruin : hell at last 
 Vawning receiv'd them whole, and on them clos'd; 
 15 
 
170 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK VI. 
 
 Hell their fit habitation fraught with fire 
 Unquenchable, the house of wo and pain. 
 Disburden'd heav'n rejoic'd, and soon repair'd 
 Her mural breach, returning whence it roll'd. 
 Sole victor from the expulsion of his foes 
 Messiah his triumphal chariot turn'd : 
 To meet him all his saints, who silent stood 
 Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts, 
 With jubilee advanc'd : and as they went, 
 Shaded with branching palm, each order bright, 
 Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, 
 Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion giv'n 
 Worthiest to reign : he celebrated rode 
 Triumphant through mid heav'n into the courts 
 And temple of his mighty Father thron'd 
 On high ; who into glory him receiv'd 
 Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss. 
 
 Thus measuring things in heav'n by things on earth, 
 At thy request, and that thou may'st beware 
 By what is past, to thee I have reveal'd 
 What might have else to human race been hid ; 
 The discord which befel, and war in heav'n 
 Among th' angelic pow'rs, and the deep fall 
 Of those too high aspiring, who rebell'd 
 With satan ; he who envies now thy state, 
 Who now is plotting how he may seduce 
 Thee also from obedience, that with him 
 Bereav'd of happiness thou may'st partake 
 His punishment, eternal misery ; 
 Which would be all his solace and revenge, 
 As a despite done against the most High, 
 Thee once to gain companions of his wo. 
 But listen not to his temptations, warn 
 Thy weaker ; let it profit thee t' have heard 
 By terrible example the reward 
 Of disobedience ; firpi they might have stood, 
 Yet fell; remember, and fear to transgress. 
 
 END 0? THE SIXTH BOOK. 
 
THE 
 
 SEVENTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE AP^4nMENT. 
 
 Rapiiaei-, o( the request of Adam, relates how and wherefore this 
 world was first created : that God, after the expelling of Satan 
 and his angels out of Heaven, declared his pleasure to create 
 anotlier world and other creatures to dwell therein ; sends his Son 
 vyith glory and attendence of angels, to perform the work of crea- 
 tion in six days : the angels celebrate with hymns the perfor- 
 mance thereof, and his re-ascension into Heaven. 
 
PARADISE LOST 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 Descend from heav'n, Urania, by that name, 
 If rightly thou art call'd, whose voice divine 
 Following, above th' Olympian hill I soar, 
 Above the flight of Pegasean wing. 
 The meaning, not the name I call : for thou 
 Nor of the muses nine, nor on the top 
 Of old Olympus dwell'st, but heav'nly born, 
 Before the hills appear'd, or fountain flow'd, 
 Thou with eternal Wisdom didst converse. 
 Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play 
 In presence of th' almighty Father, pleas'd 
 With thy celestial song. Up led by thee 
 Into the Heav'n of heav'ns I have presum'd, 
 An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air, 
 Thy temp'ring ; with like safety guided down 
 Return to me my native element : 
 Lest from this flying steed unrein'd (as once 
 Bellerophon, though from a lower clime,) 
 Dismounted, on th' Aleian field I fall 
 Erroneous there to wander, and forlorn. 
 Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound 
 Within the visible diurnal sphere ; 
 Standing on earth, not rapt above the pole, 
 More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd 
 To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, 
 16* 
 
174 PARADISE LOST. [boOK VII. 
 
 On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues ; 
 In darkness, and with dangers compass'd round, 
 And solitude : yet not alone, while thou 
 Visit'st my slumbers, nightly, or when morn 
 Purples the east : still govern thou my song, 
 Urania, and fit audience find, though few. 
 But drive far off the barbarous dissonance 
 Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race 
 Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian bard 
 In Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears 
 To rapture, till the savage clamour drown 'd 
 Both harp and voice ; nor could the Muse defend 
 Her son. So fail not thou, who thee implores : 
 For thou art heav'nly, she an empty dream. 
 
 Say, goddes" what ensued when Raphael, 
 The affable af .A-angel, had forewarn'd 
 Adam by dire example to beware 
 Apostacy, by what befel in heav'n 
 To those apostates, lest the like befal 
 In Paradise to Adam or his race, 
 Charg'd not to touch the interdicted tree. 
 If they transgress, and slight that sole command, 
 So easily obey'd amid the choice 
 Of all tastes else to please their appetite. 
 Though wand'ring. He with his consorted Eve 
 The story heard attentive, and was fill'd 
 With admiration and deep muse, to hear 
 Of things so high and strange, things to their thought 
 So unimaginable as hate in heav'n, 
 And war so near the peace of God in bliss 
 With such confusion : but the evil soon 
 Driv'n back redounded as a flood on those 
 From whom it sprung, impossible to mix 
 With blessedness. Whence Adam soon repeal'd 
 The d'oubts that in his heart arose : and now 
 Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know 
 What nearer might concern him, how this world 
 Of heav'n and earth conspicuous first began, 
 When and whereof created, for what cause, 
 
BOOK VII.] PARADISE LOST. 175 
 
 What within Eden or without was done 
 Before his memory, as one whose drought 
 Yet scarce allay'd, still eyes the current stream, 
 Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, 
 Proceeded thus to ask his heav'nly guest : 
 
 Great things, and full of wonder in our ears, 
 Far differing from this world thou hast reveal'd. 
 Divine interpreter, by favour sent 
 Down from the empyrean to forewarn 
 Us timely of what might else have been our loss. 
 Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach • 
 For which to th' infinitely Good we owe 
 Immartal thanks, and his admonishment 
 Receive with solemn purpose to observe 
 Immutably his sov'reign will, the end 
 Of what we are. But since thou hast vouchsafd 
 Gently for our instruction to impart 
 Things above earthly thought, which yet concern'd 
 Our knowing, as to highest wisdom seem'd, 
 Deign to descend now lower, and relate 
 What may no less perhaps avail to know, 
 How first began this heav'n which we beholvl 
 Distant so high, with moving fires adorn'd 
 Innumerable, and this which yields or fills 
 All space, the ambient air wide interfus'd 
 Embracing round this floral earth, what r«^use 
 Mov'd the Creator in his holy rest 
 Through all eternity so late to build 
 In Chaos, and the work begun, how soon 
 Absolv'd, if unforbid thou mayst unfold 
 What we, not to explore the secrets ask 
 Of his eternal empire, but the more 
 
 o magnify his works, the more we know. 
 And the great light of day yet wants to run 
 Much of his race though steep ; suspense in heav'n, 
 Held by thy voice, thy potent voice he hears, 
 And longer will delay to hear thee tell 
 His generation, and the rising birth 
 Of nature from the unnapparent deep : 
 
176 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VII. 
 
 Or if the star of evening and the moon 
 Haste to thy audience, night with her will bring 
 Silence, and sleep list'ning to thee will watch, 
 Or we can bid his absence, till thy song 
 End and dismiss thee ere the morning shine. 
 Thi;5 Adam his illustrious guest besought : 
 And thus the godlike angel answer'd mild : 
 This also thy request with caution ask'd, 
 Obtain : though to recount almighty works, 
 What words or tongue of seraph can suffice, 
 Or heart of man suffice to comprehend ? 
 Yet what thou canst attain, which best may serve 
 To glorify the Maker, and infer 
 Thee also happier, shalt not be withheld 
 Thy hearing, such commission from above 
 I have receiv'd, to answer thy desire 
 Of knowledge within bounds ; beyond abstain 
 To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope 
 Things not reveal'd, which th' invisible King, 
 Only omniscient, hath suppress'd in night, 
 To none communicable in earth or heav'n : 
 Enough is left besides to search and know. 
 But knowledge is as food, and needs no less 
 Her temp'rance over appetite, to know 
 In measure what the mind may well contain ; 
 Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns 
 Wisdom to folly, as nourishment to wind. 
 Know then, that after Lucifer from heav'n 
 (So call him, brighter once amidst the host 
 Of angels, than that star the stars among,) 
 Fell with his flaming legions through the deep 
 Into his place, and the great Son return'd ^' 
 
 Victorious with his saints, th' omnipotent 
 Eternal Father from his throne beheld 
 Their multitude, and to his Son thus spake : 
 
 At last our envious foe hath fail'd, who thought, 
 All like himself rebellious, by whose aid 
 This innaccessible high strength, the seat 
 Of Deity supreme, us dispossess'd. 
 
BOOK Vll.] PARADISE LOST. 177 
 
 He trusted to have seiz'd, and into fraud 
 
 Drew many, whom their place knows here no more ; 
 
 Yet far the greater part have kept, I see, 
 
 Their station, heav'n 3'-et populous retains 
 
 Number sufficient to possess her realms 
 
 Though wide, and this high temple to frequent 
 
 With ministeries due, and solemn rites : 
 
 But lest his heart exalt him in the harm 
 
 Already done, to have dispeopled heav'n, 
 
 My damage fondly deem'd, I can repair 
 
 That detriment, if such it be to lose 
 
 Self-lost, and in a moment will create 
 
 Another world, out of one man a race 
 
 Of men innumerable, there to dwell. 
 
 Not here, till by degrees of merit rais'd, 
 
 They open to themselves at length the way 
 
 Up hither, under long obedience try'd, 
 
 And earth be chang'd to heav'n, and heav'n to earth 
 
 One kingdom, joy and union without end. 
 
 Meanwhile inhabit lax, ye pow'rs of heav'n, 
 
 And thou my Word, begotten Son, by thee 
 
 This I perform, speak thou, and be it done : 
 
 My overshadoAving spirit and might with thee 
 
 I send along; ride forth, and bid the deep 
 
 Within appointed bounds be heav'n and earth, 
 
 Boundless the deep, because I am who fill 
 
 Infinitude, nor vacuous the space. 
 
 Though I uncircumscrib'd myself retire, 
 
 And put not forth my goodness, which is free 
 
 To act or not, necessity and chance 
 
 Approach not me, and what I will is fate. 
 
 So spake th' Almight}?-, and to what he spake, 
 His Word, the filial Godhead, gave efiect. 
 Immediate are the acts of God, more swift 
 Than time or motion, but to human ears 
 Cannot without process of speech be told, 
 So told as earthly notion can receive. 
 Great triumph and rejoicing was in heav'n, 
 When such was heard declar'd th' Almighty's will ; 
 
178 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VII. 
 
 Glory they sung to the most High, good will 
 
 To future men, and in their dwellings peace : 
 
 Glory to him, whose just avenging ire 
 
 Had driven out th' ungodly from his sight, 
 
 And th' habitations of the just ; to him 
 
 Glory and praise, whose wisdom had ordain'd 
 
 Good out of evil to create, instead 
 
 Of spirits malign a better race to bring 
 
 Into their vacant room, and thence diffuse 
 
 His good to worlds and ages infinite. 
 
 i So sang the hierarchies : meanwhile the Son 
 
 On his great expedition now appear'd, 
 
 Girt with omnipotence, w4th radiance crown'd 
 
 Of majesty divine ; sapience and love 
 
 Immense, and all his Father in him shone. 
 
 About his chariot numberless were pour'd 
 
 Cherub and seraph, potentates and thrones, 
 
 And virtues, wing'd spirits, and chariots wing*d 
 
 From th' armoury of God, where stand of old 
 
 Myriads between two brazen mountains lodg'd 
 
 Against a solemn day, harness'd at hand. 
 
 Celestial equipage ; and now came forth 
 
 Spontaneous, for within them spirits liv'd. 
 
 Attendant on their Lord : heav'n open'd wide 
 
 Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound 
 
 On golden hinges moving, to let forth 
 
 The King of Glory in his pow'rful word 
 
 And spirit coming to create new worlds. 
 
 On heav'nly ground they stood, and from the shore 
 
 They view'd the vast immeasurable abyss, 
 
 Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, 
 
 Up from the bottom turn'd by furious winds 
 
 And surging waves, as mountains, to assault 
 
 Heav'n's height, and with the centre mix the pole. 
 
 Silence, ye troubled waves, and thou deep, peace, 
 
 Said then th' omnific Word, your discord end : 
 
 Nor stay'd, but on the wings of cherubim 
 
 Uplifted, in paternal glory rode 
 
 Far into Chaos, and the world unborn ; 
 
BOOK VII.] PARADISE LOST. 179 
 
 For Chaos heard his voice : him all his train 
 FoUow'd in bright procession to behold 
 Creation, and the wonders of his might. 
 Then stay'd the fervid wheels, and in his hand 
 He took the golden compasses, prepar'd 
 In God's eternal store, to circumscribe 
 This universe, and all created things : 
 One foot he centred, and the other turn'd 
 Round through the vast profundity obscure, 
 And said Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds, 
 This be thy just circumference, O world ; 
 Thus God the heav'n created, thus the earth, 
 Matter unform'd and void ; darkness profound 
 Cover'd th' abyss : but on the wat'ry calm 
 His brooding wings the spirit of God outspread, 
 And vital virtue infus'd, and vital warmth 
 Throughout the fluid mass, but downward purg'd 
 The black tartai sous cold, infernal dregs 
 Adverse to life i then founded, then conglob'd 
 Like things to like, the rest to several place 
 Disparted, and between spun out the air, 
 And earth self-balanc'd on her centre hung. 
 ] Let there be light, saif ^od, and forthwith light 
 I Etherial first, of things, ( nintessence pure, 
 Sprung from the deep, an I from her native east 
 To journey the airy gloom began, 
 \ Spher'd in a radient cloud, for yet the sun 
 Was not ; she in a cloud} tabernacle 
 Sojourn'd the while. God saw the light was good; 
 And light from darkness by the hemisphere 
 Divided: light the day, aci darkness, night 
 He nam'd. Thus was the first day ev'n and mom ; 
 Nor past uncelebrated, nor unsung 
 By the celestial choirs, when orient light 
 Exhaling first from darkness they beheld ; 
 Birth-day of heav'n and earth ; with joy and shout 
 The hollow universal orb they fill'd, 
 And touch 'd their golden harps, and hymning prais'd 
 
180 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VH. 
 
 God and his works, Creator him they sung, 
 Both when first evening was, and when first morn. 
 
 Again, God said, let there be firmament 
 Amid the waters, and let it divide 
 The waters from the waters : and God made 
 The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure, 
 Transparent, elemental air, diffus'd 
 In circuit to the uttermost convex 
 Of this great round : partition firm and sure. 
 The waters underneath from those above 
 Dividing : for as earth, so he the world 
 Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide 
 Crystalline ocean, and the loud misrule 
 Of Chaos far remov'd, lest fierce extremes 
 Contiguous might distemper the whole frame . 
 And heav'n he nam'd the firmament : so even 
 And morning chorus sung the second day. 
 
 The earth was form'd, but in the womb as yei 
 Of waters, embryon immature involv'd, 
 Appear'd not : over all the face of earth 
 Main ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warm 
 Prolific humour soft'ning all her globe. 
 Fermented the great mother to conceive, 
 Satiate with genial moisture, when God s,-\id, 
 Be gaiher'd now ye waters under heav'n 
 Into one place, and let dry land appear. 
 Immediately the mountains huge appear 
 Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave 
 Into the clouds, their tops ascend the sky : 
 So high as heav'd the tumid hills, so low 
 Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, 
 Capacious bed of waters : thither they 
 Hasted with glad precipitance, uproll'd 
 As drops on dust conglobing from the dry ; 
 Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct, 
 For haste : such flight the great command impress? 'd 
 On the swift floods : as armies at the call 
 Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard) 
 Troop to their standard, so the wat'ry throng, 
 
lOOK VII.] PARADISE LOST. 181 
 
 Wave rolling after wave, where way they found, 
 
 If steep, with torrent rapture, if through plain, 
 
 Soft-ebbing; nor withstood them rock or hill, 
 
 But they, or under ground, or circuit wide 
 
 With serpent error wand'ring, found their way, 
 
 And on the washy ooze deep channels wore ; 
 
 Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, 
 
 All but within those banks, where rivers now 
 
 Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. 
 
 The dry land, earth, and the great receptacle 
 
 Of congregated waters he call'd seas : 
 
 And saw that it was good, and said. Let th' earth 
 
 Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed. 
 
 And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind, 
 
 Whose seed is in herself upon the earth. 
 
 He scarce had said, when the bare earth, till then 
 
 Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorn'd. 
 
 Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad 
 
 Her universal face with pleasant green. 
 
 Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flow'r'd 
 
 Opening their various colours, and made gay 
 
 Her bosom, smelling sweet : and these scarce blown, 
 
 Forth fiourish'd thick the clust'ring vine, forth crept 
 
 The smelling gourd, up stood the corny reed 
 
 Embattled in her field ; and th' humble shrub, 
 
 And bush with frizzled hair implicit ; last 
 
 Rose as in dance the stately trees, and spread 
 
 Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemm'd 
 
 Their blossoms : with high woods the hills vp-ere 
 
 crown'd. 
 With tufts the valley and each fountain side. 
 With borders long the rivers : that earth now 
 Seem'd like to heav'n, a seat where gods might dwell 
 Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 
 Her sacred shades : though God had yet not rain'd 
 Upon the earth, and man to till the ground 
 None was, but from the earth a dewy mist 
 Went up and water 'd all the ground, and each 
 Plant of the field, which ere it was in th' earth 
 16 
 
182 ARADISE LOST. [bOOK VH. 
 
 God made, and every herb, before it grew 
 
 On the green stem ; God saw that it was good : 
 
 So ev'n and morn recorded the third day. 
 
 Again the Almighty spake, Let there be lights 
 High in th' expanse of heaven to divide 
 The day from night ; and let them be for signs, 
 For seasons, and for days, and circling years, 
 And let them be for lights as I ordain 
 Their office in the firmament of heav*n 
 To give light on the earth ; and it was so. 
 And God made two great lights, great for their use 
 To man, the greater to have rule by day, 
 The less by night altern : and made the stars, 
 And set them in the firmament of heav'n 
 T' illuminate the earth, and rule the day 
 In their vicissitude, and rule the night, 
 And light from darkness to divide. God saw, 
 Surveying his great work, that it was good : 
 For of celestial bodies, first the sun 
 A mighty sphere he fram'd, unlightsome first, 
 Though of ethereal mould : then form'd the moon 
 Globose, and every magnitude of stars, 
 And sow'd with stars the heav'n thick as a field ; 
 Of light by far the greater part he took, 
 Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and plac'd 
 In the sun's orb, made porous to receive 
 And drink the liquid light, firm to retain 
 Her gather 'd beams, great palace now of light. 
 Hither as to their fountain other stars 
 Repairing, in their golden urns draw light. 
 And hence the morning planet gilds her horns ; 
 By tincture or reflection they augment 
 Their small peculiar, though from human sight 
 So far remote, with diminution seen. 
 First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, 
 Regent of day, and all th' hoTizon round 
 Invested with bright rays, jocund to run 
 His longitude through heav'n's high road ; the grey 
 Da^\^l and the Pleiades before him dane'd. 
 
BOOK VII.] PARADISE LOST. 183 
 
 Shedding sweet influence ; less bright the moon, 
 
 But opposite in level'd west was set 
 
 His mirror, with full face borrowing her light 
 
 From him, for other light she needed none 
 
 In that aspect, and still that distance keeps 
 
 Till night, then in the east her turn she shines, 
 
 Revolv'd on heav'n's great axle, and her reign 
 
 With thousand lesser lights dividual holds, 
 
 With thousand thousands stars, that then appeared 
 
 Spangling the hemisphere : then first adorn'd 
 
 With their bright luminaries that set and rose, 
 
 Glad evening and glad morn crowri'd the fourth day. 
 
 And God said. Let the waters generate 
 Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul: 
 And let fowl fly above the earth, with wings 
 Display'd on th' open firmament of heav'n. 
 And God created the great whales, and each 
 Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously 
 The waters generated by their kinds, 
 And every bird of wing after his kind ; 
 And saw that it was good, and bless'd them saying, 
 Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas 
 And lakes and running streams the waters fill : 
 And let the fowl be multiply'd on th' earth. 
 Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay 
 With fry innumerable swarm, and shoak 
 Of fish that with their fins and shining scales 
 Glide under the green wave, in seulls that oft 
 Bank the mid sea : part single or with mate 
 Graze the sea weed their pasture, and through groves 
 Of coral stray, or sporting vnth. quick glance 
 Show to the sun their wav'd coats dropt with gold 
 Or in their pearly shells at ease, attend 
 Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food 
 In jointed armour watch : on smooth the seal, 
 And bended dolphins play : part huge of bulk 
 Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait 
 Tempest the ocean : there leviathan, 
 Hugest of living creatures, on the deep 
 
184 P*1RADISE LOST. [bOOK Vfl. 
 
 Stretch'd like a promontory, sleeps or swims, 
 And seems a moving land, and at his gills 
 Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out a sea. 
 Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens and shores 
 Their brood as numerous hatch, from th' egg that soon 
 Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclos'd 
 Their callow young, but feather'd soon and ^edge 
 They summ'd their pens,^ and soaring the air sub- 
 lime 
 With clang despis'd the ground, under a cloud 
 In prospect ; there the eagle and the stork 
 On cliffs and cedar tops their eyries build : 
 Part loosely wing the region, part more wise 
 In common, rang'd in figure, wedge their ways 
 Intelligent of seasons, and set forth 
 Their airy caravan high over seas 
 Flying, and over lands with mutual wing 
 .Easing their flight ; steers the prudent crane 
 Her annual voyage, borne on winds ; the air 
 Floats as they pass, fann'd with unnumber'd plumes : 
 From branch to branch the smaller birds with song 
 Solac'd the woods, and spread their painted wings 
 Till ev'n, nor then the solemn nightingale 
 Ceas'd warbling, but all night tun'd her soft lays : 
 Others on silver lakes and rivers bath'd 
 Their downy breast ; the swan with arched neck 
 Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows 
 Her state with oary feet ; yet oft they quit 
 The dank, and rising on stiff pennons, tower 
 The mid aerial sky : others on ground 
 Walk'd firm ; the crested cock Avhose clarion sounds 
 The silent hours, and th' other whose gay train 
 Adorns him, colour'd with the florid hue 
 Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus 
 With fish replenish'd, and the air with fowl, 
 Evening and morn solemniz'd the fifth day. 
 The sixth, and of creation last, arose 
 
 " Summ'd their pens ;" had their quills mature or full growa. 
 
BOOK VII.] PARADISE LOST. 186 
 
 With evening harps and matin, when God said, 
 Let th' earth bring forth soul living in her kind, 
 Cattle and creeping things, and beast of th' earth, 
 Each in their kind. The earth obey'd and straight 
 Opening her fertile womb teem'd at a birth 
 Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms, 
 Limb'd and full grown : out of the ground up rose 
 As from his lair the wild beast where he wons 
 In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den ; 
 Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walk'd : 
 The cattle in the fields and meadows green : 
 Those rare and solitary, these in flocks 
 Pasturing at once, and in broad herds upsprung. 
 The grassy clods now calv'd, now half appear'd 
 The tawny lion, pawing to get free 
 His hinder parts, then springs as broke from bonds. 
 And rampant shakes his brinded mane; the ounce, 
 The libbard, and the tiger, as the mole 
 Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw 
 In hillocks : the swift stag from under ground 
 Bore up his branching head : scarce from his mould 
 Behemoth biggest born of earth upheav'd 
 His vastness : fleec'd the flocks and bleating rose 
 As plants : ambiguous between sea and land 
 The river horse and scaly crocodile. 
 At once came forth whatever creeps the ground. 
 Insect or worm : those wav'd their limber fans 
 For wings and smallest lineaments exact 
 In all the liveries deck'd of summer's pride, 
 With spots of gold and purple, azure and green : 
 These as a Ime their long dimension drew, 
 Streaking- the ground with sinuous trace ; not all 
 jVIipinis of nature ; some of serpent kind. 
 Wondrous in length and corpulence, involv'd 
 Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept 
 The parsimonious emmet, provident 
 Of future, in small room large heart enclos'd, 
 Pattern of just equality perhaps 
 Hereafter, join'd in her popular tribes 
 16^- 
 
186 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VII, 
 
 Of commonalty : swarming next appear'd 
 
 The female bee, that feeds her husband drone 
 
 Deiiciously, and builds her waxen cells 
 
 With honey stor'd : the rest are numberless, 
 
 And thou their natures know'st, and gav'st them 
 
 names, 
 Needless to thee repeated ; nor unknown 
 The serpent subtlest beast of all the field, 
 Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes 
 And hairy mane terrific, though to thee 
 Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. 
 Now heav'n in all her glory shone, and roll'd 
 Het motions, as the great first Mover's hand 
 First wheel'd their course ; earth in her rich attire 
 Consummate lovely smil'd ; air, water, earth, 
 By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walk'd 
 Frequent ; and of the sixth day yet remain'd ; 
 There wanted yet the master work, the end 
 Of all yet done ; a creature who not prone 
 And brute as other creatures, but endued 
 With sanctity of reason, might erect 
 His stature, and upright with front serene 
 Govern the rest, self-knowing, and from thence 
 Magnanimous to correspond with heav'n, 
 But grateful to acknowledge whence his good 
 Descends, thither with heart, and voice, and eyes 
 Directed in devotion, to adore 
 And worship God supreme, who made him chief 
 Of all his works : therefore th' Omnipotent 
 Kternal Father (for where is not he 
 Present ?) thus to his Son audibly spake ; 
 Let us make now man in our image, man. 
 In our similitude, and let them rule 
 Over the fish and fowl of sea and air, 
 Beast of the field, and over all the earth, 
 And every creeping thing that creeps the ground. 
 This said he form'd thee, Adam, thee, O man. 
 Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breath'd 
 *rhe breath of life ; in his own image he 
 
BOOK VII.] PARADISE LOST. 187 
 
 Created thee, in the image of God 
 Express, and thou becam'st a living soul. 
 Male he created thee, but thy consort 
 Female for race ; then bless'd mankind, and said, 
 Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth, 
 Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold 
 Over fish of the sea, and fowl of th' air, 
 And every living thing that moves on th' earth. 
 Wherever thus created, for no place 
 Is yet distinct by name, thence, as thou know'st, 
 He brought thee into this delicious grove. 
 This garden, planted with the trees of God, 
 Delectable both to behold and taste : 
 And freely all their pleasant fruit for food 
 Gave thee ; all sorts are here that all th' earth yields, 
 Variety without end ; but of the tree, 
 Which tasted, works knowledge of good and evil, 
 Thou may'st not ; in the day thou eat'st, thou dy'st j 
 Death is the penalty impos'd, beware, 
 And govern well thy appetite, lest Sin 
 Surprise thee, and her black attendant Death. 
 Here finish'd he, and all that he had made 
 View'd, and behold all was entirely good ; 
 So ev'n and morn accomplish'd the sixth day: 
 Yet not till the Creator from his work 
 Desisting, though unwearied, up return'd. 
 Up to the heav'n of heav'ns his high abode, 
 Thence to behold this new created world 
 Th' addition of his empire, how it show'd 
 In prospect from his throne, how good, how fair, 
 Answering his great idea. Up he rode 
 FoUow'd with acclamation and the sound 
 Symphonious of ten thousand harps that tun'd 
 Angelic harmonies : the earth, the air 
 Eesounded, (thou remember'st, for thou heardst,) 
 The heav'ns and all the constellations rung, 
 The planets in their station list'ning stood, 
 While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 
 Open, ye everlasting gates, they sung, 
 
188 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VII. 
 
 Open, ye heav'ns, your living doors ; let in 
 
 The great Creator, from his work return'd 
 
 Magnificent, his six days work, a world; 
 
 Open, and henceforth oft ; for God will deign 
 
 To visit oft the dwellings of just men 
 
 Delighted, and with frequent intercourse 
 
 Thither will send his winged messengers 
 
 On errands of supernal grace. So sung 
 
 The glorious train ascending • he through heav*n, 
 
 That open'd wide her blazing portals, led 
 
 To God's eternal house direct the way, 
 
 A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, 
 
 And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear, 
 
 Seen in the galaxy, that milky way, 
 
 Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest 
 
 Powder'd with stars. And now on earth the seventh 
 
 Evening arose in Eden, for the sun 
 
 Was set, and twilight from the east came on, 
 
 Forerunning night ; when at the holy mount 
 
 Of heav'n's high seated top, th' imperial throne 
 
 Of Godhead, fix'd for ever firm and sure, 
 
 The filial power arriv'd, and sat him down 
 
 With his gfreat Father, for he also went 
 
 Invisible, yet stay'd (such privilege 
 
 Hath Omnipresence,) and the work ordain'd, 
 
 Author and end of all things, and from work 
 
 Now resting, bless'd and hallow d the sev'nth day, 
 
 As resting on that day from all his work, 
 
 But not in silence holy kept ; the harp 
 
 Had work, and rested not, the solemn pipe, 
 
 And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop. 
 
 All sounds on fret by string or golden wire 
 
 Temper'd soft tunings, intermix'd with voice 
 
 Choral or unison ; of incense clouds 
 
 Fuming from golden censers hid the mount. 
 
 Creation and the six days acts they sung. 
 
 Great are thy works, Jehovah, infinite 
 
 Thy pow'r ; what tho't can measure thee or tongue 
 
 Relate thee ? greater now in thy return 
 
BOOK VII.] PARADISE LOST. 189 
 
 Than from the giant angels ; thee that day 
 Thy thunders magnified ; but to create 
 Is greater than created to destroy. 
 Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound 
 Thy empire ? easily the proud attempt 
 Of spirits apostate and their counsels vain 
 Thou hast repell'd, while impiously they thought 
 Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw 
 The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks 
 To lessen thee, against his purpose serves 
 To manifest the more thy might : his evil 
 Thou usesl, and from thence creat'st more good. 
 Witness this new-made world, another heav'n 
 From heav'n gate not far, founded in view 
 On the clear hyaline, the glassy sea ; 
 Of amplitude almost immense, with stars 
 Numerous, and every star perhaps a world 
 Of destin'd habitation ; but thou know'st 
 Their seasons ; among these the seat of men, 
 Earth with her nether ocean circumfus'd, 
 Their pleasant dwelling-place, Thrice happy men, 
 And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanc'd, 
 Created in his image, there to dwell 
 And worship him, and in reward to rule 
 Over his works on earth, in sea, or air, 
 And multiply a race of worshippers 
 Holy and just : thrice happy if they know 
 Their happiness, and persevere upright. 
 So sung they, and the empyrean rung 
 With hallelujahs : Thus was sabbath kept. 
 And thy request think now fulfiU'd that ask'd 
 How first this world and face of things began, 
 And what before thy memory was done 
 From the beginning, that posterity 
 Inform'd by thee might know ; if else thou seek'st 
 Ought, not surpassing human measure, say ! 
 
 luND OF THE SEVENTH BOOK. 
 
THE 
 
 EIGHTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Adam inquires concerning celestial motions, is doubtfully answer- 
 ed, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of know- 
 ledge : Adam assents, and still desirous to detain Raphael, relates 
 to him what he remembered since his own creation, his placing in 
 Paradise, his talk with God concerning solitude and fit society, 
 his first meeting and nuptials with Eve, his discourse with the 
 angel thereupon : who after admonitions repeated, departs. 
 
PARADISE LOST 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 The angel ended, and in Adam's ear 
 So charming left his voice, that he awhile 
 Thought him still speaking, still stood fixt to hear ; 
 Then as new wak'd thus gratefully reply'd : 
 
 What thanks sufficient, or what recompense 
 Equal have I to render thee, divine 
 Historian, who thus largely hast allay'd 
 The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsaf'd 
 This friendly condescension to relate 
 Things else by me unsearchable, now heard 
 With wonder, but delight, and, as is due, 
 With glory attributed to the high 
 Creator ? something yet of doubt remains, 
 Which only thy solution can resolve. 
 When I behold this goodly frame, this world 
 Of heav'n and earth consisting, and compute 
 Their magnitudes, this earth, a spot, a grain, 
 An atom, with the firmament compar'd 
 And all her number'd stars, that seem to roll 
 Spaces incomprehensible (for such 
 Their distance argues and their swift return 
 Diurnal,) merely to officiate light 
 Round this opacious earth, this punctual spot,'**^ . 
 
 * " This punctual spot :" no bigger than a paint, 
 
 n 
 
194 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VUi 
 
 One day and night, in all their vast survey 
 Useless besides ; reasoning, I oft admire 
 How nature wise and frugal, could commit 
 Such disproportions, with superfluous hand 
 So many nobler bodies to create. 
 Greater so manifold to this one use, 
 For ought appears, and on their orbs impose 
 Such restless revolution day by day 
 Repeated, while the sedentary earth, 
 That better might with far less compass move, 
 Serv'd by more noble than herself, attains 
 Her end without least motion, and receives, 
 As tribute, such a sumless journey brought 
 Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light ; 
 Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails. 
 
 So spake our sire, and by his count'nance seem'd 
 Ent'ring on studious thoughts abstruse, which Eve 
 Perceiving where she sat retir'd in sight, 
 With lowliness majestic from her seat, 
 And grace that won who saw to wish her stay, 
 Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flow'rs 
 To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom, 
 Her nursery : they at her coming sprung, 
 And touch'd by her fair tendance gladlier grew. 
 Yet went she not, as not with such discourse 
 Delighted, or not capable her ear 
 Of what was high : such pleasure she reserv'd, 
 Adam relating, she sole auditress : 
 Her husband the relator she preferr'd 
 Before the angel, and of him to ask 
 Chose rather ; he, she knew, would intermix 
 Grateful digr^essions, and solve high dispute 
 "With conjugal caresses; from his lip 
 Not words alone pleas'd her. O when meet now 
 Such pairs, in love and mutual honour join'd? 
 With goddess-like demeanour forth she went. 
 Not unattended, for on her as queen 
 A pomp of winning graces waited still, 
 And from about her shot darts of desire 
 
BOOK VTlI.j 
 
 PARADISE LOST* 195 
 
 Into all eyes to wish her still in sight. 
 And Raphael now to Adam doubt propos'd 
 Benevolent and facile thus reply'd : 
 
 To ask or search I blame thee not, for heav'n 
 Is as the book of God before thee set 
 Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn 
 His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years : 
 This to attain, whether heav'n move, or earth, 
 Imports not, if thou reckon right ; the rest 
 From man or angel the great Architect 
 Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge 
 His secrets to be scann'd by them who ought 
 Rather admire ; or if they list to try 
 Conjecture, he his fabric of the heav'ns 
 Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move 
 His laughter at their quaint opinions wide. 
 Hereafter, when they come to model heav'n 
 And calculate the stars, how they will wield 
 The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive 
 To save appearances, how gird the sphere 
 With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er, 
 Cycle and epicle, orb in orb : 
 Already by thy reasoning this I guess, 
 Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest 
 That bodies bright and greater should not serve 
 The less not bright, nor heav'n such journeys run, 
 Earth sitting still, when she alone receives 
 The benefit : consider first, that great 
 Or bright infers not excellence : the earth 
 Though, in comparison of heav'n, so small, 
 Nor glist'ring, may of solid good contain 
 More plenty than the sun that barren shines. 
 Whose virtue on itself works no efiect. 
 But in the fruitful earth ; there first receiv'd 
 His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. 
 Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries 
 Officious, but to thee, earth's ha,bitant. 
 And for the heay'n's wide circuit, let it speak 
 The M?iker's high magnificence, who buiU 
 
196 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK VHI. 
 
 So spacious, and his line stretch'd out so far ; 
 
 That man may know he dwells not in his own ; 
 
 An edifice too large for him to fill, 
 
 Lodg'd in a small partition, and the rest 
 
 Ordain'd for uses to his Lord best known. 
 
 The swiftness of those circles attribute, 
 
 Though numberless, to his omnipotence 
 
 That to corporeal substances could add 
 
 Speed almost spiritual ; me thou think'st not slow, 
 
 Who since the morning hour set out from heav'n 
 
 Where God resides, and ere mid-day arriv'd 
 
 In Eden, distance inexpressible 
 
 By numbers that have name. But this I urge, 
 
 Admitting motion in the heav'ns, to show, 
 
 Invalid that which thee to doubt is mov'd : 
 
 Not that I so affirm, though so it seem 
 
 To thee who hast thy dwelling here on earth. 
 
 God to remove his ways from human sense, 
 
 Plac'd heav'n from earth so far, that earthly sight, 
 
 If it presume, might err in things too high, 
 
 And no advantage gain. What if the sun 
 
 Be centre to the world, and other stars 
 
 By his attractive virtue and their own 
 
 Incited, dance about him various rounds ? 
 
 Their wand'ring course now high, now low, then hid, 
 
 Progressive, retrogade, or standing still, 
 
 In six thou seest, and what if sev'nth to these 
 
 The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem, 
 
 Insensibly three different motions move ? 
 
 Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, 
 
 Mov'd contrary with thwart obliquities. 
 
 Or save the sun his labour, and that swift 
 
 Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb suppos'd, 
 
 Invisible else above all stars, the wheel 
 
 Of day and night ; which needs not thy belief 
 
 If earth industrious of herself fetch day 
 
 Travelling east, and with her part averse 
 
 From the sun's beam meet night, her other part 
 
 Still luminous by his ray. What if that light 
 
BOOK VIII.] PARADISE LOST. 197 
 
 Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, 
 To the terrestrial moon be as a star 
 Enlight'ning her by day, as she by night 
 This earth ? reciprocal, if land be there. 
 Fields and inhabitants ; her spots thou seest 
 As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce 
 Fruits in her soften'd soil, for some to eat 
 Allotted there : and other suns perhaps 
 Wi'th their attendant moons thou wilt descry, 
 Communicating male ^d female light. 
 Which two great sexes animate the world, 
 Stor'd in each orb perhaps with some that live. 
 For such vast room in nature unpossess'd 
 By living soul, desert and desolate, 
 Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 
 Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far 
 Down to tliis habitable, which returns 
 Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. 
 But whether thus these things, or whether not, 
 "Whether the sun predominant in heav'n, 
 Rise on the earth, or earth rise on the sun, 
 He from the east his flaming road begin, 
 Or she from west her silent course advance 
 With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps 
 On her soft axle, while she paces even, 
 And bears thee soft with the smooth air along, 
 Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid. 
 Leave them to God above, him serve and fear ; 
 Of other creatures, as him pleases best, 
 Wherever plac'd, let him dispose : joy thou 
 In what he gives to thee, this Paradise 
 And thy fair Eve ; heav'n is for thee too high 
 To know what passes there ; be lowly wise : 
 Think only what concerns thee and thy being ; 
 Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there 
 Live, in what state, condition or degree. 
 Contented that thus far hath been reveal'd 
 Not of earth only, but of highest heav'n. 
 17* 
 
198 PARADISE LOSl. [bOOK VDI 
 
 To whom thus Adam, clear'd of doubt, reply'd : 
 How fully hast thou satisfy'd me, pure 
 Intelligence of heav'n, angel serene, 
 And freed from intricacies, taught to live 
 The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts 
 To interrupt the sweet of life, from which 
 God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, 
 And not molest us, unless we ourselves 
 Seek them with wand'ring tho'ts, and notions vain. 
 But apt the mind or fancy is to rove 
 XJncheck'd, and of her roving is no end ; 
 Till warn'd or by experience taught, she learn, 
 That not to know at large of things remote 
 From use, obscure and subtle, but to know 
 That which before us lies in daily life, 
 Is the prime wisdom; what is more, is -fume, 
 Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, 
 And renders us in things that most concern 
 Unpractis'd, unprepar'd, and still to seek. 
 Therefore from this high pitch let us descend 
 A lower flight, and speak of things at hand 
 Useful, whence haply mention may arise 
 Of something not unseasonable to ask 
 By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign 'd. 
 Thee have I heard relating what was done 
 Ere my remembrance : now hear me relate 
 My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard ; 
 And day is not yet spent ; till then thou seest 
 How subtly to detain thee I devise. 
 Inviting thee to hear while I relate, 
 Fond, where it not in hope of thy reply : 
 For while I sit with thee, I seem in heav'n, 
 And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear 
 Than fruits of palm-tree, pleasantest to thirst 
 And hunger both, from labour, at the hour 
 Of sweet repast ; they satiate, and soon fill 
 Though pleasant, but thy words with grace divine 
 Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety. 
 
 #• 
 
BOOK Vlli.] PARADISE LOST. 199 
 
 To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek : 
 Nor are thy lips ungrateful, sire of men, 
 Nor tongue ineloquent ; for God on thee 
 Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd, 
 Inward and outward both, his image fair : 
 Speaking, or mute, all comeliness and grace 
 Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms ; 
 Nor less think we in heav'n, of thee on earth 
 Than of our fellow-servant, and inquire 
 Gladly into the ways of God with man : 
 For God we see hath honour'd thee, and set 
 On man his equal love : say therefore on : 
 For I that day was absent, as befel. 
 Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, 
 'Far on excursion toward the gates of hell; 
 Squar'd in full legion (such command we had) 
 To see that none thence issued forth a spy, 
 Or enemy, while God was in his work, 
 Lest he incens'd at such eruption bold, 
 Destruction with creation might have mix'd. 
 Not that they durst without his leave attempt, 
 But us he sends upon his high behests 
 For state, as Sov'reign King, and to inure 
 Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut 
 The dismal gates, and barricado'd strong ; 
 But long ere our approaching, heard within 
 Noise, other than the sound of dance or sonf/ 
 Torment, and loud lament, and furious rap* 
 Glad we return'd up to the coast of light 
 Ere sabbath evening : so we had in charge* 
 But thy relation now ; for I attend, 
 Pleas'd with thy words no less th^a thou with mine. 
 
 So spake the God-like pow'r. dnd thus our sire : 
 For man to tell how human ]^Ve began 
 Is hard ; for who himself beginning knew ? 
 Desire with thee still lono-cr to converse 
 Induc'd me. As new wi'd from soundest sleep, 
 Soft on the flow'ry herb I found me laid 
 In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun 
 
200 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VIH. 
 
 Soon dry'd, and on the reeking moisture fed. 
 Straight toward heav'n my wond'ring eyes I turn'd 
 And gaz'd awhile the ample sky, till rais'd 
 By quick instinctive motion up I sprung, 
 As thitherward endeavouring, and upright 
 Stood on my feet ; about me round I saw 
 Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, 
 And liquid lapse of murm'ring streams : by these, 
 Creatures that liv'd and mov'd, and walk'd, or flew, 
 Birds on the branches warbling ; all things smil'd 
 With fragrance, and with joy my heart o'erflow'd. 
 Myself I then perus'd, and limb by limb 
 Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran 
 With supple joints, as lively vigour led : 
 But who I was, or where, or from what cause, 
 Knew not ; to speak I try'd, and forthwith spake ; 
 "" ly tongue obey'd, and readily could name 
 ^hate'er I saw. Thou Sun, said I, fair light, 
 .nd thou enlighten'd earth, so fresh and gay, 
 ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, 
 And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, 
 TUl, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here ? 
 Na of myself; by some great Maker then. 
 In ^odness and in pow'r pre-eminent ; 
 Tell Vj.e, how may I know him, how adore. 
 From vhom I hav'^ that thus I move and live. 
 And feei that I am happier than I know. 
 While thuiL I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither 
 From where T first drew air, and first beheld 
 This happy li^t, when answer none return'd, 
 On a green shadj bank profuse of flowers. 
 Pensive I sat me dbwn ; there gentle sleep 
 First found me, and V|th soft oppression seiz'd 
 My drowsed sense, untiwbled, though I thought 
 I then was passing to my former state 
 Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve : 
 When suddenly stood at my head a dream, 
 Whose inward apparition gently mov'd 
 My fancy to believe I yet had being, 
 
BOOK VIII.] PARADISE LOST. 201 
 
 And liv'd : one came, methought, of shape divine, 
 
 And said. Thy mansion wants thee, Adam, rise, 
 
 First man, of men innumerable ordain'd 
 
 First father, call'd by thee I come thy guide 
 
 To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepar'd. 
 
 So saying, by the hand he took me rais'd, 
 
 And over fields and waters, as in air 
 
 Smooth sliding without step, last led me up 
 
 A woody mountain, whose high top was plain ; 
 
 A circuit wide, enclos'd, with goodliest trees 
 
 Planted, with walks, and bow'rs, that what I saw 
 
 Of earth before scarce pleasant seem'd. Each tree 
 
 Loaden with fairest fruit, that hung to th' eye 
 
 Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite 
 
 To pluck and eat ; whereat I wak'd, and found 
 
 Before mine eyes all real, as the dream 
 
 Had lively shadow'd : here had new begun 
 
 My wand'ring, had not he who was my guide 
 
 Up hither, from among the trees appear 'd, 
 
 Presence divine. Rejoicing, but with awe 
 
 In adoration at his feet I fell 
 
 Submiss : he rear'd me, and Whom thou sought'st 
 
 I am, 
 Said mildly, Author of all this thou seest 
 Above, or round about thee, or beneath. 
 This Paradise I give thee, count it thine 
 To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat : 
 Of every tree that in the garden grows 
 Eat freely with glad heart ; fear here no dearth : 
 But of the tree whose operation brings 
 Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set 
 The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith, 
 Amid the garden by the tree of life. 
 Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste, 
 And shun the bitter consequence : for know, 
 The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command 
 Transgress'd, inevitably thou shalt die, 
 Frotxi that day mortal, and this happy state 
 Shalt lose, expell'd from hence into a world 
 
202 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK Vm. 
 
 Of wo and sorrow. Sternly he pronounc'd 
 The rigid interdiction, which resounds 
 Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice 
 Not to incur : but soon his clear aspect 
 Return'd, and gracious purpose thus renew'd : 
 Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth 
 To thee and to thy race I give ; as lords 
 Possess it, and all things that therein live, 
 Or live in sea, or air, beast, fish, and fowl. 
 In sign whereof each bird and beast behold 
 After their kind ; I bring them to receive 
 From thee their names ; and pay thee fealty 
 With low subjection, understand the same 
 Of fish within their wat'ry residence, 
 Not hither summon'd, since they cannot change 
 Their element to draw the thinner air. 
 As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold 
 Approaching two and two, these cow'ring low 
 With blandishment, each bird stoop'd on his wing. 
 I nam'd them, as they pass'd, and understood 
 Their nature, with such knowledge God endued 
 My sudden apprehension : but in these 
 I found not what methought I wanted still ; 
 And to the heav'nly vision thus presum'd : 
 
 O by what name, for thou above all these, 
 Above mankind, or ought than mankind higher, 
 Surpassest far my naming, how may I 
 Adore thee. Author of this universe, 
 And all this good to man ? for whose well being 
 So amply, and with hands so liberal 
 Thou hast provided all things : but with me 
 I see not who partakes. In solitude 
 What happiness, who can enjoy alone. 
 Or all enjoying, what contentment find? 
 Thus I presumptuous ; and the vision bright, 
 As with a smile more brighten'd, thus reply'd : 
 
 What call'st thou solitude ? is not the earth 
 With various living creatures, and the air 
 Beplenish'd, and all these at thy command 
 
S60K VIII.J PARADISE LOS • 203 
 
 To come and play before thee ? know'st thou not 
 Their language and their ways ? they also know, 
 And reason not contemptibly ; with these 
 Find pastime, and bear rule ; thy realm is large. 
 So spake the universal Lord, and seem'd 
 So ord'ring. I with leave of speech implor'd, 
 And humble deprecation thus reply'd : 
 
 Let not my words offend thee, heav'nly Power, 
 My Maker, be propitious while I speak. 
 Hast thou not made me here thy substitute, 
 And these inferior far beneath me set ? 
 Among unequals what society 
 Can sort, what harmony or true delight ? 
 Which must be mutual, in proportion due 
 Giv'n and receiv'd ; but in disparity 
 The one intense, the other still remiss 
 Cannot well suit with either, but soon prove 
 Tedious alike : of fellowship I speak 
 Such as I see, fit to participate 
 All rational delight, wherein the brute 
 Cannot be human consort : they rejoice 
 Each with their kind, lion with lioness ; 
 So fitly them in pairs thou hast combin'd : 
 Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl 
 So well converse, nor with the ox the ape ; 
 Worse then can man with beast, and least of all. 
 
 Whereto th' Almighty answer'd, not displeas'd : 
 A nice and subtle happiness I see 
 Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice 
 Of thy associates, Adam, and wilt taste 
 No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary. 
 What think'st thou then of me, and this my state ? 
 Seem I to thee sufficiently possess'd 
 Of happiness, or not ? who am alone 
 From all eternity, for none I know 
 Second to me or like, equal much less. 
 How have I then with whom to hold converse 
 Save with the creatures which I made, and those 
 
204 PARADISE LOST. [book vul 
 
 To me inferior, infinite descents 
 
 Beneath what other creatures are to thee ? 
 
 He ceas'd, I lowly answer'd : To attain 
 The height and depth of thy eternal ways 
 All human thoughts come short, Supreme of things, 
 Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thee 
 Is no deficience found : not so is man. 
 But in degree, the cause of his desire 
 By conversation with his like to help. 
 Or solace his defects. No need that thou 
 Should'st propagate, already infinite, 
 And through all numbers abs-olute, though one ; 
 But man by number is to manifest 
 His single imperfection, and beget 
 Like of his like, his image multiply'd, 
 In unity defective, Avhich requires 
 Collateral love, and dearest amity. 
 Thou in thy secrecy although alone, 
 Best with thyself accompanied, seek'st not 
 Social communication, yet so pleas'd, 
 Canst raise thy creature to what height thou wiK 
 Of union or communion, deify'd ; 
 I by conversing cannot these erect 
 From prone, nor in their ways complacence find. 
 Thus I embolden'd spake, and freedom us'd 
 Permissive, and acceptance found, which gain'd 
 This answer from the gracious voice divine : 
 
 Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleas'd, 
 And find thee knowing not of beasts alone, 
 Which thou has rightly nam'd, but of thyself, 
 Expressing well the spirit within thee free. 
 My image, not imparted to the brute, 
 Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee. 
 Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike, 
 And be so minded still ; I, ere thou spak'st, 
 Knew it not good for man to be alone, 
 And no such company as then thou saw'st 
 Intended thee, for trial only brought, 
 To see how thou couldst judge of fit and meet • 
 
900K VIII.] PARADISE LOST. 205 
 
 What next I bring shall please thee, be assur'd. 
 Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 
 Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desire. 
 
 Re ended, or I heard no more, for now 
 My earthly by his heav'nly over-power'd : 
 Which It had long stood under, strain'd to th' height 
 In that celestial colloquy sublime, 
 As with an object that excels the sense, 
 Dazzled and spent, sunk down, and sought repair 
 Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'd 
 By nature as in aid, and clos'd mine eyes. 
 Mine eyes he clos'd, but open left the cell 
 Of fancy my internal sight, by which 
 Abstract as in a trance methought I saw, 
 Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape 
 Still glorious before whom awake I stood ; 
 Who stooping open'd my left side, and took 
 From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm, 
 And life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound, 
 But suddenly with flesh fill'd up and heal'd : 
 The rib he form'd and fashion'd with his hand; 
 Under his forming hands a creature grew, 
 Manlike but different sex, so lovely fair, 
 That what seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd now 
 Mean, or in her summ'd up, in her contain'd 
 And in her looks, which from that time infus'd 
 Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before, 
 And into all things from her air inspir'd 
 The spirit of love and amorous delight. 
 She disappear'd, and left me dark ; I wak'd 
 To find her, or for ever to deplore 
 Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure : 
 ^\Tien out of hope, behold her, not far off, 
 Such as I saw her in my dream, adorn'd 
 With what all earth or heav'n could bestow 
 To make her amiable : on ^he came. 
 Led by her heav'nly Maker, though unseen, 
 And guided by his voice, nor uninform'd 
 Of nuptial sanctity and marriage rites 
 18 
 
206 4RADISE LOST. [BOOK VU! 
 
 Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye, 
 In every gesture dignity and love. 
 I overjoy 'd could not forbear aloud : 
 
 This turn hath made amends ; thou hast fulfil'd 
 Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign. 
 Giver of all things fair, but fairest this 
 Of all thy gifts, nor enviest. I now see 
 Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself 
 Before me ; woman is her name, of man 
 Extracted ; for this cause he shall forego 
 Father and mother, and to his wife adliere ; 
 And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul. 
 
 She heard me thus, and though divinely brought, 
 Yet innocence and virgin modesty. 
 Her virtue and the conscience of her worth, 
 That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won, 
 Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retir'd. 
 The more desirable, or to say all, 
 Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought, 
 "Wrought in her so, that seeing me, she turn'd ; 
 I follow'd her, she what was honour knew, 
 And with obsequious majesty approved 
 My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower 
 I led her blushing like the morn : all heav'n, 
 And happy constellations on that hour 
 Shed their selectest influence ; the earth 
 Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill ; 
 Joyous the birds ; fresh gales and gentle airs 
 Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings 
 Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub, 
 Disporting, till the amorous bird of night 
 Sung spousal, and bid haste the evening star 
 On his hill top, to light the bridal harp. 
 
 Thus have I told thee all my state, and brought 
 My story to the sum of earthly bliss 
 Which I enjoy, and must confess to find 
 In all things else ddlight indeed, but such 
 As us'd or not, works in the mind no change, 
 Nor vehejiient desire, these delicacies 
 
BOOK VIII.] PARADISE LOST. 207 
 
 I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flowers, 
 
 Walks, and the melody of birds ; but here 
 
 Far otherwise, transported I behold, 
 
 Transported touch ; here passion first I felt, 
 
 Commotion strange, in all enjoyment else 
 
 Superior and unmov'd, here only weak 
 
 Against the charm of beauty's pow'rful glance 
 
 Or nature fail'd in me, and left some part 
 
 Not proof enough such object to sustain, 
 
 Or from my side subducting, took perhaps 
 
 More than enough ; at least on her bestow'd 
 
 Too much of ornament, in outward show 
 
 Elaborate, of inward less exact. 
 
 For well I understand in the prime end 
 
 Of nature her th' inferior, in the mind 
 
 And inward faculties, which most excel, 
 
 In outward also her resembling less 
 
 His image who made both, and less expressing 
 
 The character of that dominion given 
 
 O'er other creatures ; yet when I approach 
 
 Her loveliness, so absolute^^ she seems 
 
 And in herself complete, so well to know 
 
 Her own, that what she wills to do or say, 
 
 Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best ; 
 
 All higher knowledge in her presence falls 
 
 Degraded, wisdom in discourse with her 
 
 Loses discount'nanc'd, and like folly shows ; 
 
 Authority and reason on her wait, 
 
 As one intended first, not after made 
 
 Occasionally; and to consummate all. 
 
 Greatness of mind and nobleness their seat 
 
 Build in her loveliest, and create an awe 
 
 About her as a guard angelic plac'd. 
 
 To whom the angel Avith contracted brow : 
 Accuse not nature, she hath done her part; 
 Do thou but thine, and be not diffident 
 Of wisdom, she deserts thee not, if thou 
 
 ♦ " So absolute :" finished. 
 
208 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VIII 
 
 Dismiss not her, when most thou needst her nigh, 
 By attributing overmuch to things 
 Less excellent, as thou thyself perceiv'st. 
 For what admir'st thou, what transports thee so, 
 An outside ? fair no doubt, and worthy well 
 Thy cherishing, thy honouring, and thy love, 
 Not thy subjection ; weigh with her thyself; 
 Then value : oft-times nothing profits more 
 Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right 
 Well manag'd ; of that skill the more thou know'st , 
 The more she will acknowledge thee her head, 
 And to realities yield all her shows : 
 Made so adorn for thy delight the more, 
 So awful, that with honour thou mayst love 
 Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise. 
 But if the sense of touch whereby mankind 
 Is propagated seem such dear delight 
 Beyond all other, think the same vouchsaf 'd 
 To cattle, and each beast ; which would not be 
 To them made common and divulg'd, if ought 
 Therein enjoy 'd were worthy to subdue 
 The soul of man, or passion in him move. 
 What higher in her society thou find'st 
 Attractive, human, rational, love still ; 
 In loving thou dost well, in passion not 
 Wherein true love consists not ; love refines 
 The thoughts, and heart enlarges, hath his seat 
 In reason, and is judicious, is the scale 
 By which to heav'nly love thou may'st ascend 
 Not sunk in carnal pleasure, for which cause 
 Among the beasts no mate for thee was found 
 To whom thus half abash'd Adam, reply'd • 
 Neither her outside form'd so fair, nor aught 
 In procreation common to all kinds 
 (Though higher of the genial bed by far, 
 And with mysterious reverence I deem,) 
 So much delights me, as those graceful acts, 
 Those thousand decencies that daily flow 
 From all her words and actions, mix'd with love 
 
BOOK VIII.] PARADISE LOST. 209 
 
 And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd 
 Union of mind, or in us both one soul ; 
 Harmony to behold in wedded pair 
 More grateful than harmonious sound to th' ear, 
 Yet these subject not ; I to thee disclose 
 What inward thence I feel, not therefore foil'd, 
 Who meet with various objects, from the sense 
 Variously representing ; yet still free 
 Approve the best, and follow what I approve. 
 To love thou blam'st me not, for love thou say'st 
 Leads up to heav'n, is both the way and guide : 
 Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask ; 
 Love not the heav'nly spirits, and how their love 
 Express they ? by looks only, or do they mix 
 ^^^adiance, virtual or immediate touch ? 
 
 ^^ yhom the angel with a smile that glow'd 
 Celestial rtn.y j-^d, love's proper hue, 
 Answer'd: Let k suffice thee that thou know'st 
 Us happy, and without love no happiness. 
 Whatever pure thou m xh^ ]yQ^j enjoy 'st 
 (And pure thou wert creaiod) we enioy 
 In eminence, and obstacle find none, 
 Of membrane, joint, or limb, excluaiye bars* 
 Easier than air with air, if spirits embicy»e 
 Total they mix, union of pure with pure 
 Desiring ; nor restrain'd conveyance need 
 As flesh to mix with flesh, or soul with soul. 
 But I can now no more ; the parting sun 
 Beyond the earth's green Cape and verdant isles 
 Hesperian sets, my signal to depart. 
 Be strong, live happy, and love, but first of all 
 Him whom to love is to obey, and keep 
 His great command ; take heed lest passion sway 
 Thy judgment to do aught which else free will 
 Would not admit ; thine and of all thy sons 
 The weal or wo in thee is plac'd ; beware. 
 I in thy persevering shall rejoice. 
 And all the blest : stand fast ; to stand or fall 
 Free in thine own arbitrement it lies 
 18* 
 
210 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK VDI. 
 
 Perfect within, no outward aid require ; 
 And all temptation to transgress repel. 
 
 So saying, he arose ; whom Adam thus 
 Follow'd with benediction. Since to part, 
 Go heav'nly guest, ethereal messenger, 
 Sent from whose sov'reign goodness I adore. 
 Gentle to me and affable hath been 
 Thy condescension, and shall be honoured ever 
 With grateful memory : thou to mankind 
 Be good and friendly still, and oft return. 
 
 So parted they, the Angel up to heav'n 
 From the thick shade, and Adam to his bower. 
 
 BND OF THF ClGHTfi BOOK. 
 
 1 
 
 U 
 
THE 
 
 NINTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan having compassed the Earth, with meditated guile returns 
 as a mist by night into Paradise, enters into the serpent sleeping. 
 Adam and Eve in the morning go forth to their labours, which 
 Eve proposes to divide in several places, each labouring apart : 
 Adam consents not, alleging the danger, least that enemy, of 
 whom they were forewarned, should attempt her, found alone : 
 Eve loath to be found not circumspect or firm enough, urges her 
 going apart, the rather desirous to make trial of her strength ; 
 Adam at last yields : the serpent finds her alone ; his subtle ap- 
 proach, first gazing, then speaking, with much flattery extolling 
 Eve above all other creatures. Eve wondering to hear the ser- 
 pent speak, asks how he attained to human speech, and such un- 
 derstanding not till now ; the serpent answers, that by tasting of 
 a certain tree in the garden, he attained both to speech and rea- 
 son, till then void of both : Eve requires him to bring her to that 
 tree, and finds it to be the tree of knowledge forbidden : the ser- 
 pent now grown bolder, with many wiles and arguments induces 
 her at length to eat ; she pleased with the taste, deliberates 
 awhile whether to impart thereof to Adam or not, at last brings 
 him of the fruit, relates what persuaded her to eat thereof: 
 Adam at first amazed, but perceiving her lost, resolves through 
 vehemence of love to perish with her ; and extenuating the 
 trespass, eats also of the fruit ; the effects thereof in them both ; 
 they seek to cover their nakedness ; then fall to variance and 
 accusation of one another. 
 
PARADISE LOST 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 No more of talk where God or angel guest 
 
 With man, as with his friend, familiar us'd 
 
 To sit indulgent, and with him partake 
 
 Rural repast, permitting him the while 
 
 Venial discourse unblam'd : I now must change 
 
 Those notes to tragic ; foul distrust, and breach 
 
 Disloyal on the part of man, revolt. 
 
 And disobedience ; on the part of heav'n 
 
 Now alienated, distance and distaste, 
 
 Anger and just rebuke, and judgment given 
 
 That brought into this world of wo. 
 
 Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery, 
 
 Death's harbinger : sad task, yet argument 
 
 Not less but more heroic than the wrath 
 
 Of stern Achilles on his foe pursu'd 
 
 Thrice fugitive about Troy wall ; or rage 
 
 Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd, 
 
 Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long 
 
 Perplex'd the Greek and Cytherea's son ; 
 
 If answerable style I can obtain 
 
 Of my celestial patroness, who deigns 
 
 Her nightly visitation unimplor'd, 
 
 And dictates to me slumb'ring, or inspires 
 
 Easy my unpremeditated verse : 
 
 Since first this subject for heroic song 
 
2t4 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK iX. 
 
 Pleas'd me long choosing-, and beginning late ; 
 Not sedulous by nature to indite 
 Wars, hitherto the only argument 
 Heroic deem'd, chief mast'ry to dissect 
 With long and tedious havoc fabled knights 
 In battles feign'd ; the better fortitude 
 Of patience and heroic martyrdom 
 Unsung ; or to describe races and games, 
 Or tilting furniture, emblazon'd shields, 
 Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds ; 
 Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights 
 At joust and tournament ; then marshall'd feast 
 Serv'd up in hall with sewers, and seneschals j 
 The skill of artifice or office mean, 
 Not that which justly gives heroic name 
 To person, or to poem. Me of these 
 Nor skiird nor studious, higher argument 
 Remains, sufficient of itself to raise 
 That name, unless an age too late, or cold 
 Climate, or years damp my intended wing 
 Depress'd, and much they may, if all be mine, 
 Not hers who brings it nightly to my ear. 
 
 The sun was sunk, and after him the star 
 Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring 
 Twilight upon the earth, short arbiter 
 'Twixt day and night, and now from end to end 
 Night's hemisphere had veil'd the horizon round : 
 "When Satan who late fled before the threats 
 Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improv'd 
 in meditated fraud and malice, bent 
 On man's destruction, maugre what might hap 
 Of heavier on himself, fearless return'd. 
 By night he fled, and at midnight returned. 
 From compassing the earth, cautious of days, 
 Since Uriel regent of the sun descry'd 
 His entrance, and forwarn'd the cherubim 
 That kept their watch ; thence full of anguish drivei^ 
 The space of sev'n continued nights he rode 
 With darkness, thrice the equinoctial line 
 
BOOKIX,] PARADISE LOST 215 
 
 He circled, four times cross'd the car of night 
 From pole to pole, traversing each colure ; 
 On th' eighth returned, and on the coast averse 
 From entrance of cherubic watch, by stealth 
 Found unsuspected way. There was a place, 
 Now not, though sin, not time, first -wTought the 
 
 change, 
 Where Tigris at the foot of Paradise 
 Into a gulf shot under ground, till part 
 Rose up a fountain by the tree of life ; 
 In with the river sunk, and with it rose 
 Satan, involv'd in rising mist, then sought 
 Where to lie hid ; sea he had search'd and land 
 From Eden over Pontus, and the pool 
 MsBOtis, up beyond the river Ob ; 
 Downward as far antarctic ; and in length 
 West from Orontes to the ocean barr'd 
 At Darien, thence to the land where flows 
 Ganges and Indus : thus the orb he roam'd 
 With narrow search, and with inspection deep 
 Consider'd every creature, which of all 
 Most opportune might serve his wiles, and found 
 The serpent subtlest beast of all the field. 
 Him after long debate, irresolute 
 Of thoughts revolv'd, his final sentence chose 
 Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom 
 To enter, and his dark suggestions hide 
 From sharpest sight : for in the wily snake, 
 Whatever sleights none would suspicious marK; 
 As from his wit and native subtlety 
 Proceeding, which in other beasts observ'd, 
 Doubt might b^get of diabolic power 
 Active wj^^in beyond the sense of brute. 
 Thus ^le resolv'd, but first from inward grief 
 }Jis bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd : 
 O earth, how like to heav'n, if not preferr'd 
 More justly, seat worthier of gods, as built 
 With second thoughts, reforming what was old ! 
 For what God after better worse would build ? 
 
316 PAKADISE LOST. IboOK IX. 
 
 Terrestrial heav'n, danc'd round by other heav'ns 
 
 That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps, 
 
 i/ight above lights, for thee alone, as seems, 
 
 In thee concentring all their precious beams 
 
 Of sacred influence ! As God in heav'n 
 
 Is centre, yet extends to all, so thou 
 
 Cent'ring receiv'st from all those orbs ; in thee, 
 
 Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears 
 
 Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth 
 
 Of creatures animate with gradual life 
 
 Of growth, sense, reason, all summ'd up in man. 
 
 With what delight could I have walk'd thee round, 
 
 If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange 
 
 Of hill and valley, rivers, woods and plains, 
 
 Now land, now sea, and shores with forests crown'd 
 
 Rocks, dens, and caves ! but I in none of these 
 
 Find place or refuge ; and the more I see 
 
 Pleasures about me, so much more I feel 
 
 Torment withm me, as from the hateful siege 
 
 Of contraries ; all good to me becomes 
 
 Bane, and in heav'n much worse would be my state. 
 
 But neither here seek I, no, nor in heav'n 
 
 To dwell, unless by mast'ring heav'n 's Supreme ; 
 
 Nor hope to be myself less miserable 
 
 By what I seek, but others to make such 
 
 As I, though thereby worse to me redound : 
 
 For only in destroying I find ease 
 
 To my relentless thoughts ; and him destroy'd. 
 
 Or won to what may work his utter loss, 
 
 For whom all this was made, all this will soon 
 
 Follow, as to him link'd in weal or wo. 
 
 In wo then ; that destruction wide may rano-e : 
 
 To me shall be the glory sole among 
 
 Th' infernal pow'rs, in one day to have matr'd 
 
 What th' Almighty styl'd, six nights and days 
 
 Continued making, and who knows how long 
 
 Before had been contriving, though perhaps 
 
 Not longer than since I in one night freed 
 
 From servitude inglorious, well nigh half 
 
BOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 217 
 
 Tk' angelic name, and thinner left the throng 
 Of his adorers ; he to be aveng'd, 
 And to repair his numbers thus impair'd, 
 Whether such virtue spent of old now fail'd 
 More angels to create, if they at least 
 Are his created, or to spite us more, 
 Determin'd to advance into our room 
 Jk. creature form'd of earth, and him endow, 
 Exalted from so base original. 
 With heav'nly spoils, our spoils, what he decreed 
 He effected ; man he made, and for him built 
 Magnificent this world and earth his seat, 
 Him lord pronounc'd and, 0, indignity! 
 Subjected to his service angel wings. 
 And flaming ministers to watch and tend 
 Their earthly charge : of these the vigilance 
 I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist 
 Of midnight vapour glide obscure, and pry 
 In every bush and brake, where hap may find 
 The serpent sleeping in whose mazy folds 
 To hide me, and the dark intent I bring. 
 O foul descent ! that I who erst contended 
 With gods to sit the highest, am now constrain'd 
 Into a beast, and mix'd with bestial slime 
 This essence to incarnate and imbrute, 
 That to the height of deity aspir'd ; 
 But tvhat will not ambition and revenge 
 Descend to ? who aspires must down as low 
 As high he soar'd, obnoxious first or last 
 To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet, 
 Bitter ere long back on itself recoils ; 
 Let it ; I reck not, so it light well aim'd. 
 Since higher I fall short, on him who next 
 Provokes my envy, this new favourite 
 Of heav'n, this man of clay, son of despite, 
 Whom us the more to spite his Maker rais'd 
 From dust : spite then with spite is best repaid. 
 So saying, through each thicket dank or dry, 
 Like a black mist low creeping, he held on 
 19 
 
218 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IX. 
 
 His midnight search, where soonest he might find 
 
 The serpent ; him fast sleeping soon he found 
 
 In labyrinth of many a round self-roll'd, 
 
 His head the midst, well stor'd with subtle wiles : 
 
 Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den, 
 
 Nor nocent yet, but on the grassy herb 
 
 Fearless unfear'd he slept : in at his mouth 
 
 The devil enter'd, and his brutal sense, 
 
 In heart or head, possessing soon inspir'd 
 
 With act intelligential ; but his sleep 
 
 Disturb'd not, waiting close the approach of morn. 
 
 Now when as sacred light began to dawn 
 In Eden on the humid flow'rs, that breath'd 
 Their morning incense, when all things that breathe 
 From th' earth's great altar send up silent praise 
 To the Creator, and his nostrils fill 
 With grateful smell, forth came the human pair, 
 And join'd their vocal worship to the choir 
 Of creatures wanting voice ; that done, partake 
 The season, prime for sweetest scents and airs ; 
 Then commune how that day they best may ply 
 Their growing work : for much their work outgrew 
 The hands despatch of two gard'ning so wide, 
 And Eve first to her husband thus began : 
 
 Adam, well may we labour, still to dress 
 This garden, still to tend plant, herb and flower, 
 Our pleasant task enjoin'd, but till more hands 
 Aid us, the work under our labour grows, 
 Luxurious by restraint ; what we by day 
 Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, 
 One night or two with wanton growth derides 
 Tending to wild. Thou therefore now advise, 
 Or bear what to my mind first thoughts present : 
 Let us divide our labours, thou where choice 
 Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind 
 The woodbine round this arbour, or direct 
 The clasping ivy where to climb, while I 
 In yonder spring of roses intermix'd 
 With myrtle, find what to re-dress till noon : 
 
BOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 219 
 
 For while so near each other thus all day 
 Our task we choose, what wonder if so near 
 Looks intervene and smiles, or object new 
 Casual discourse draw on, which intermiss 
 Our day's work brought to little, though begun 
 Early, and th' hour of supper comes unearn'd. 
 To whom mild answer Adam thus return'd^ 
 Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond 
 Compare above all living creatures dear, 
 Well hast thou motion'd, well thy tho'ts employ'd 
 How we might best fulfil the work which here 
 God hath assign'd us, nor of me shalt pass 
 Unprais'd : for nothing lovelier can be found 
 In woman, than to study household good, 
 And good works in her husband to promote. 
 Yet not so strictly hath our Lord impos'd 
 Labour, as to debar us when we need 
 Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, 
 Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse 
 Of looks and smiles, for smiles from reason flow, 
 To brute deny'd, and are of love the food, 
 Love not the lowest end of human life. 
 For not to irksome toil, but to delight 
 He made us, and delight to reason join'd. 
 These paths and bow'rs doubt not but our joint hands 
 Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide 
 As we need walk, till younger hands ere long 
 Assist us : but if much converse perhaps 
 Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield : 
 For solitude sometimes is best society, 
 And short retirement urges sweet return. 
 But other doubt possesses me, lest harm 
 Befal thee sever'd from me ; for thou know'st 
 What hath been warn'd us, what malicious foe 
 Envying our happiness, and of his own 
 Despairing, seeks to work us wo and shame 
 By sly assault ; and somevv^here nigh at hand 
 Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find 
 His wish and best advantage, us asunder, 
 
S20 PARADISE LOST. [l300K IX. 
 
 Hopeless to circumvent us join'd, where each 
 
 To other speedy aid might lend at need ; 
 
 Whether his first design be to withdraw 
 
 Our fealty from God, or to disturb 
 
 Conjugal love, than which perhaps no bliss 
 
 Enjoy 'd by us excites his envy more ; 
 
 Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side 
 
 That gave thee being, still shades thee and protects. 
 
 The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, 
 
 Safest and seemliest, by her husband stays, 
 
 Who guards her, or with her the worst endures. 
 
 1*0 whom the virgin majesty of Eve, 
 
 As one who loves, and some unkindness meets. 
 
 With sweet austere composure thus reply'd : 
 
 Offspring of heav'n and earth, and all earth's lorcl. 
 That such an enemy we have, who seeks 
 Our ruin, both by thee inform'd I learn. 
 And from the parting angel overheard. 
 As in a shady nook I stood behind, 
 Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers. 
 But that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt 
 To God or thee, because we have a foe 
 May tempt it, I expected not to hear. 
 His violence thou fear'st not, being such 
 As we, not capable of death or pain, 
 Can either not receive, or can repel. 
 His fraud is then thy fear, which plain infers 
 Thy equal fear that my firm faith and love 
 Can by his fraud be shaken or seduc'd : 
 Tho'ts, which how found they harbour in thy breast, 
 Adam, misthought of her to thee so dear ? 
 
 To whom with healing words Adam reply^d : 
 Daughter of God and man, immortal Eve ! 
 For such thou art, from sin and blame entire : 
 Not diffident of thee do I dissuade 
 Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid 
 Th' attempt itself, intended by our fbe. 
 For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses 
 The tempted with dishonour foul, suppos'd 
 
BOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST- S21 
 
 Not incorruptible of faith, not proof 
 
 Against temptation : thou thyself with scorn 
 
 And anger wouldst resent the offer'd wrong, 
 
 Though ineffectual found : misdeem not then, 
 
 If such affront I labour to avert 
 
 From thee alone, which on us both at once 
 
 The enemy, though bold will hardly dare, 
 
 Or daring, first on me the assault shall light. 
 
 Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn^ 
 
 Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce 
 
 Angels ; nor think superfluous others aid. 
 
 I from the influence of thy looks receive 
 
 Access in every virtue, in thy sight 
 
 More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were 
 
 Of outward strength ; while shame, thou looking on 
 
 Shame to be overcome or overreach'd 
 
 Would utmost vigour raise, and rais'd unite. 
 
 "Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel 
 
 When I am present, and thy trial choose 
 
 With me, best witness of thy virtue try'd ? 
 
 So spake domestic Adam in his care 
 And matrimonial love ; but Eve, who thought 
 Less attributed to her faith sincere, 
 Thus her reply with accent sweet renew'd : 
 
 If this be our condition, thus to dwell 
 In narrow circuit straiten'd by a foe, 
 Subtle or violent, we not endued 
 Single with like defence, wherever met, 
 How are we happy, still in fear of harm ? 
 But harm precedes not sin ; only our foe 
 Tempting affronts us with his foul esteem 
 Of our integrity : his foul esteem 
 Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns 
 Foul on himself; then wherefore shunn'd or fear'd 
 By us ? who rather double honour gain 
 From his surmise prov'd false, find peace within. 
 Favour from heav'n, our witness from th' event. 
 And what is faith, love, virtue unassay'd 
 Alone, without exterior help sustain'd? 
 19* 
 
S22 PARADISE LOST [COOK iX 
 
 Let us not then suspect our happ^ state 
 Left so imperfect by the Maker wise, 
 As not secure to single or conAin'd. 
 Frail is our happiness, if this be so. 
 And Eden were no Eden thus expos'd. 
 
 To whom thus Adam fervently reply'd : 
 O woman, best are all things as the will 
 Of God ordain'd them ; his creating hand 
 Nothing imperfect or deficient left 
 Of all that he created, much less man, 
 Or ought that might his happy state secure. 
 Secure from outward force ; within himself 
 The danger lies, yet lies within his power : 
 Against his will he can receive no harm. 
 But God left free the will, for what obeys 
 Keason is free, and reason he made right, 
 But bid her well beware, and still erect, 
 Lest by some fair appearing good surpris'd 
 She dictate false, and misinform the will 
 To do what God expressly hath forbid. 
 Not then mistrust, but tender love enjoins, 
 That I should mind thee oft, and mind thou me. 
 Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve, 
 Since reason not impossibly may meet 
 Some specious object by the foe suborn'd, 
 And fall into deception unaware. 
 Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warn'd. 
 Seek not temptation then, which to avoid 
 Were better, and most likely if from me 
 Thou sever not : trial will come unsought : 
 Wouldst thou approve thy constancy, approve 
 First thy obedience ; th' other who can know, 
 Not seeing the attempted, who attest ? 
 But if thou think, trial unsought may find 
 Us both securer than thus warn'd thou seem'st, 
 Go ; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more ; 
 Go in thy native innocence, rely 
 On what thou hast of virtue, summon all, 
 t'or God towards thee hath done his part, do ihm$ 
 
BOOK IX. j PARADISE LOST. 223 
 
 So spake the patriarch of mankind : But Eve 
 Persisted, yet submiss though last, reply'd : 
 
 With thy permission then, and thus forewam'd 
 Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words 
 Touch'd only, that our trial, when least sx)ught, 
 May find us both perhaps far less prepar'd, 
 The willinger I go, nor much expect 
 A foe so proud will first the weaker seek ; 
 So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse. 
 
 Thus saying, from her husband's hand, her hand 
 Soft she withdrew, and like a wood-nymph light, 
 Oread or dryad, or of Delia's train, 
 Betook her to the groves, but Delia's self 
 In gait surpass'd, and goddess-like deport, 
 Though not as she with bow and quiver arm'd, 
 But with such gard'ning tools as art yet rude, 
 Guiltless of fire, had form'd, or angels brought. 
 To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorn'd, 
 Likest she seem'd Pomona when she fled 
 Vertumnus, or to Ceres in her prime, 
 Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove. 
 Her, long with ardent look his eye pursu'd 
 Delighted, but desiring more her stay. 
 Oft he to her his charge of quick return 
 Repeated, she to him as oft engag'd 
 To be return'd by noon amid the bower, 
 And all things in best order to invite 
 Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose ; 
 O much deceiv'd, much failing, hapless Eve> 
 Of thy presum'd return ! event perverse ! 
 Thou never from that hour in Paradise 
 Found'st either sweet repast, or sound repose $ 
 Such ambush hid among sweet flow'rs and shades 
 Waited with hellish rancour imminent 
 To intercept thy way, or send thee back 
 Despoil'd of innocence, of faith, of bliss. 
 For now, and since first break of dawn the fiend, 
 Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come, 
 And on his quest, where likeliest he might find 
 
224 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IX. 
 
 The only two of mankind, but in them 
 
 The whole included race, his purpos'd prey. 
 
 In bow'r and field he sought, where any tuft 
 
 Of grove or garden-plot more pleasant lay, 
 
 Their tendance or plantation for delight; 
 
 By fountain or by shady rivulet 
 
 He sought them both, but wish'd his hap might find 
 
 Eve separate, he wish'd, but not with hope 
 
 Of what so seldom chanc'd, when to his wish. 
 
 Beyond his hope ; Eve separate he spies, 
 
 Veil'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood, 
 
 Half spy'd, so thick the roses blushing round 
 
 About her glow'd, oft stooping to support 
 
 Each flow'r of tender stalk, whose head though gay 
 
 Carnation, purple, azure, or speck'd with gold 
 
 Hung drooping unsustain'd ; them she upstays 
 
 Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while 
 
 Herself, though fairest unsupported flower. 
 
 From her best prop so far, and storm so nigh. 
 
 Nearer he drew, and many a walk travers'd 
 
 Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm, 
 
 Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen 
 
 Among thick-woven arborets and flowers, 
 
 Imbordered on each bank, the hand of Eve : 
 
 Spot more delicious than those gardens feign'd, 
 
 Or of reviv'd Adonis, or renown 'd 
 
 Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son, 
 
 Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king 
 
 Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. 
 
 Much he the place admir'd, the person more. 
 
 As one who long in populous city pent, 
 
 "Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, 
 
 Forth issuing on a summer's morn to breathe 
 
 Among the pleasant villages and farms 
 
 Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight, 
 
 The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, 
 
 Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound ; 
 
 If chance with nymph-like step fair virgin pass, 
 
 What pleasing seem'd, for her now pleases more. 
 
BOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 225 
 
 She most, and in her look sums all delight : 
 Such pleasure took the serpent to hehold 
 This flow'ry plat, the sweet recess of Eve 
 Thus early, thus alone ; her heav'nly form 
 Angelic, but more soft, and f£»minine ; 
 Her graceful innocence, her every air 
 Of gesture, or least action overaw'd 
 His malice, and with repine sweet bereav'd 
 His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought : 
 That space the evil-one abstracted stood 
 From his own evil, and for the time remain'd 
 Stupidly good, of enmity disarm'd, 
 Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge : 
 But the hot hell that always in him burns, 
 Though in mid heav'n, soon ended his delight, 
 And tortures him now more, the more he sees 
 Of pleasure not for him ordain'd ; then soon 
 Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts 
 Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites : 
 
 Tho'ts, whither have ye led me ! with what sweet 
 Compulsion thus transported to forget 
 What hither brought us ! hate, not love, nor hope 
 Of Paradise for hell, hope here to taste 
 Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy, 
 Save what is in destroying; other joy 
 To me is lost. Then let me not let pass 
 Occasion which now smiles : behold alone 
 The woman, opportune to all attempts ; 
 Her husband, for I view far round, not nigh, 
 Whose higher intellectual more I shun, 
 And strength, of courage haughty, and of limb 
 Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould ; 
 Foe not informidable, exempt from wound, 
 I not ; so much hath hell debas'd, and pain 
 Enfeebled me, to what I was in heav'n. 
 She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods, 
 Not terrible, though terror be in love 
 And beauty, not approach'd by stronger hate, 
 
226 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IX, 
 
 Hate stronger, under show of love well feign'd, 
 The way which to her ruin now I tend. 
 
 So spake the enemy of mankind, enclos'd 
 In serpent, inmate bad, and toward Eve 
 Address'd his way, not with indented wave, 
 Prone on the ground, as since, but on his rear, 
 Circular base of rising folds, that tower'd 
 Fold above fold a surging maze, his head 
 Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes ; 
 With burnish'd neck of verdant gold, erect 
 Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass 
 Floated redundant : pleasing was his shape, 
 And lovely ; never since of serpent kind 
 Lovelier, not those that in Illyria chang'd 
 Hermione and Cadmus, or the god 
 In Epidaurus ; nor to which transform'd 
 Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline was seen. 
 He with Olympias, this with her who bore 
 Scipio the height of Rome. With tract oblique 
 At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd 
 To interrupt, side-long he works his way; 
 As when a ship by skilful steersman wrought 
 Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind 
 Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail : 
 So varied he, and of his tortuous train 
 Curl'd many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, 
 To lure her eye ; she busied heard the sound 
 Of rustling leaves, but minded not, as us'd 
 To such disport before her through the field. 
 From every beast, more duteous at her call, 
 Than at Circean call the herd disguis'd. 
 He bdder now, uncali'd before her stood. 
 But as in gaze admiring ; oft he bow'd 
 His turret crest, and sleek enamel'd neck, 
 Fawning, and lick'd the ground whereon she trod. 
 His gentle dumb expression turn'd at length 
 The eye of Eve to mark his play ; he glad 
 Of her attention gain'd, with serpent tongue 
 
tJOOK IX J PARADISE LOST. 227 
 
 Organic, or impulse of vocal air, 
 
 His fraudulent temptation thus began : 
 
 Wonder not, sov'reign mistress, if perhaps 
 Thou canst, who art sole wonder ; much less arm 
 Thy looks, the heav'n of mildness, with disdain, 
 Displeas'd that I approach thee thus, and gaze 
 Insatiate, I thus single, nor have fear'd 
 Thy awful brow, more awful thus retir'd. 
 Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair, 
 Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
 By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore 
 With ravishment beheld, there best beheld 
 When universally admir'd ; but here. 
 In this enclosure wild, these beasts among, 
 Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
 Half what in thee is fair, one man except 
 Who sees thee ? (and what is one ?) who shouldst be 
 
 seen 
 A goddess among gods, addr'd and serv'd 
 By angels numberless, thy daily train. 
 
 So gloz'd the tempter, and his proem tun'd 
 Into the heart of Eve his words made way, 
 Though at the voice much marvelling ; at length 
 Not unamaz'd she thus in answer spake : 
 What may this mean ? language of man pronounc'd 
 By tongue of brute, and human sense express'd ! 
 The first at least of these I thought deny'd 
 To beasts, whom God on their creation-day 
 Created mute to all articulate sound ; 
 The latter I demur, for in their looks 
 Much reason, and in their actions oft appears. 
 Thee, serpent, subtlest beast of all the field 
 I knew, but not with human voice endued ; 
 Redouble then this miracle, and say. 
 How cam'st thou speakablc of mute, and liow 
 To me so friendly grown above the rest 
 Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight : 
 Say, for such wonder claims attention due. 
 
 To whom the guileful tempter thus reply'd : 
 
228 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IX. 
 
 Empress of this fair world, resplendent Eve, 
 
 Easy to me it is to tell thee all 
 
 What thou command'st, and right thou shouldst be 
 
 obey'd : 
 I was at first as other beasts that graze 
 The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low, 
 As was my food ; nor ought but food discern'd 
 Or sex, and apprehended nothing high : 
 Till on a day roving the field, I chanc'd 
 A goodly tree far distant to behold 
 Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mix'd, 
 Ruddy and gold : I nearer drew to gaze ; 
 When from the boughs a savory odour blown, 
 Grateful to appetite, more pleas'd my sense 
 Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats 
 Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at even, 
 Unsuck'd of lamb or kid, that tend their play. 
 To satisfy the sharp desire I had 
 Of tasting those fair apples, I resolv'd 
 Not to defer ; hunger and thirst at once, 
 Pow'rful persuaders, quicken'd at the scent 
 Of that alluring fruit, urg'd me so keen. 
 About the mossy trunk I wound me soon. 
 For high from ground the branches would require 
 Thy utmost reach, or Adam's : round the tree 
 All other beasts that saw, with like desire 
 Longing and envying stood, but could not reach 
 Amid the tree now got, where plenty hung 
 Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill 
 I spar'd not, for such pleasure till that hour 
 At feed or fountain never had I found. 
 Sated at length, ere long I might perceive 
 Strange alteration in me, to degree 
 Of reason in my inward pow'rs, and speech 
 Wanted not long, though to this shape retain'd. 
 Thenceforth to speculations high or deep 
 I turn'd my thoughts, and with capacious mind 
 Consider'd all things visible in heav'n. 
 Or earth, or middle, all things fair and good ; 
 
BOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 229 
 
 But all that fair and good in thy divine 
 Semblance, and in thy beauty's heav'nly ray 
 United I beheld ; no fair to thine 
 Equivalent or second, which compell'd 
 Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come 
 And gaze, ^nd worship thee, of right declar'd 
 Sov'reign of creatures, universal dame. 
 
 So talk'd the spirited sly snake ; and Eve 
 Yet more amaz'd unwary thus reply'd : 
 Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt 
 The virtue of that fruit, in thee first prov'd : 
 But say, where grows the tree, from hence how far ? 
 For many are the trees of God that grow 
 In Paradise, and various, yet unknown 
 To us, in such abundance lies our choice, 
 As leaves a greater store of fruit untouch'd, 
 Still hanging incorruptible, till men 
 Grow up to their provision, and more hands 
 Help to disburden Nature of her birth. 
 
 To whom the wily adder blithe and glad : 
 Empress the way is ready, and not long, 
 Beyond a row of myrtles, on a flat. 
 Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
 Of blowing myrrh and balm ; if thou accept 
 My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon. 
 
 Lead then, said Eve : He leading swiftly roll'd 
 In tangles, and made intricate seem straight, 
 To mischief swift. Hope elevates,- and joy 
 Brightens his crest ; as when a wand'ring fire, 
 Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night 
 Condenses, and the cold environs round, 
 Kindled through agitation to a flame. 
 Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends, 
 Hovering and blazing with delusive light. 
 Misleads th' amaz'd night-wand 'rer from his way 
 To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool, 
 There swallow'd up and lost, from succour far. 
 So glister'd the dire snake, and into fraud 
 Led Eve our credulous mother, to the tree 
 20 
 
S30 PARADISE LOST. [b60K IX* 
 
 Of prohibition, root of all our wo ; 
 
 Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake : 
 
 Serpent, we might have spar'd our coming hither 
 Fruitless to me, though fruit be here t' excess, 
 The credit of whose virtue rest with thee, 
 Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects. 
 But of this tree we may not taste nor touch ; 
 God so commanded, and left that command 
 Sole daughter of his voice : the rest, we live 
 Law to ourselves, our reason is our law. 
 
 To whom the tempter guilefully reply'd : 
 Indeed ! hath God then said that of the fruit 
 Of all these garden trees ye shall not eat, 
 Yet lords declar'd of all in earth or air ? 
 
 To whom thus Eve yet sinless : Of the fruit 
 Of each tree in the garden we may eat, 
 But of the fruit of this fair tree amidst 
 The garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat 
 Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die. 
 
 She scarce had said, though brief, when now more 
 bold 
 The tempter, but vv^ith show of zeal and love 
 To man, and indignation at his wrong, 
 New part puts on, and as to passion mov'd, 
 Fluctuates disturbed, yet comely and in act 
 Rais'd, as if some great matter to begin. 
 As when of old some orator renown'd 
 In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 
 Flourish'd, since mute, to some great cause address'd, 
 Stood in himself collected, while each part. 
 Motion, each act won audience ere the tongue, 
 Sometimes in height began, as no delay 
 Of preface brooking through his zeal of right : 
 So standing, moving, or to height up grown, 
 The tempter all impassion'd thus began : 
 
 O sacred, Avise, and wisdom-giving plant, 
 Mother of science, now I feel thy power 
 Within me clear not only to discern 
 Things in their causes, but to trace the ways 
 
BOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 231 
 
 Of highest agents, deem'd however wise, 
 
 Queen of this universe, do not believe 
 
 Those rigid threats of death ; ye shall not die : 
 
 How s-hould ye ? by the fruit ? it gives you life 
 
 To knowledge ; by the threat'ner ? look on me, 
 
 Me who have touch'd and tasted, yet both live, 
 
 And life more perfect have attain'd than fate 
 
 Meant me, by vent'ring higher than my lot. 
 
 Shall that be shut to man, which to the beast 
 
 Ts open ? or will God incense his ire 
 
 For such a petty trespass, and not praise 
 
 Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain 
 
 Of death denounc'd; whatever thing death be, 
 
 Deterr'd not from achieving what might lead 
 
 To happier life, knowledge of good and evil ; 
 
 Of good, how just ? of evil, if what is evil 
 
 Be real, why not known, since easier shunn'd. 
 
 God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just ; 
 
 Not just, not God ; not fear'd then, nor obey'd; 
 
 Your fear itself of death removes the fear. 
 
 Why then was this forbid ? Why but to awe, 
 
 Why but to keep ye ^ow and ignorant, 
 
 His worshippers ; he knows that in the day 
 
 Ye eat thereof, your eyes that seem so clear 
 
 Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then 
 
 Open'd and clear'd, and ye shall be as gods, 
 
 Knowing both good and evil as they know. 
 
 That ye shall be as gods, since I as man, 
 
 Internal man, is but proportion meet ; 
 
 I of brute human, ye of human, gods; 
 
 So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off 
 
 Human, to put on gods ; death to be Avish'd, 
 
 Tho' threaten'd, which no worse than this can bring. 
 
 And what are gods that man may not become 
 
 As they, participating god-like food ? 
 
 The gods are first, and that advantage use 
 
 On our belief, that all from them proceeds ; 
 
 I question it, for this fair earth I see, 
 
 Warm'd by the sun, producing every kind, 
 
232 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IX 
 
 Them nothing : if they all things, who enclos'd 
 Knowledge of good and evil in this tree, 
 That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains 
 Wisdom without their leave ? and wherein lies 
 Th' offence, that man should thus attain to know ? 
 What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree 
 Impart against his will if all be his ? 
 Or is it envy, and can envy dwell 
 In heav'nly breasts ? these, these and many more 
 Causes import your need of this fair fruit. 
 Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste. 
 
 He ended, and his words replete with guile 
 Into her heart too easy entrance won : 
 Fix'd on the fruit she gaz'd, which to behold 
 Might tempt alone, and in her ears the sound 
 Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregn'd 
 With reason, to her seeming, and with truth ; 
 Meanwhile the hour of noon drew on, and wak'd 
 An eager appetite, rais'd by the smell 
 So savoury of that fruit, which with desire, 
 Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, 
 Solicited her longing eye : yet first 
 Pausing awhile, thus to herselff she mus'd : 
 
 Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits, 
 Though kept from man, and worthy to be admir'd. 
 Whose taste, too long forborne, at first assay 
 Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
 The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise i 
 Thy praise he also who forbids thy use, 
 Conceals not from us, naming thee the tree 
 Of knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil ; 
 Forbids us then to taste, but his forbidding 
 Commends thee more, while it infers the good 
 By thee communicated, and our want 
 For good unknown, sure is not had, or had 
 And yet unknown, is as not had at all. 
 In plain then, what forbids he but to know. 
 Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise ? 
 Such prohibitions bind not. But if death 
 
ffOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 233 
 
 Bind us with after-bands, what profits then 
 
 Our inward freedom ? In the day we eat 
 
 Of this fair fruit, our doom is we shall die. 
 
 How dies the serpent ? he hath eat'n and lives, 
 
 And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns, 
 
 Irrational till then. For us alone 
 
 Was death invented ? or to us deny'd 
 
 This intellectual food, for beasts reserv'd ? 
 
 For beasts it seems : yet that one beast which first 
 
 Hath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy 
 
 The good befall'n him, author unsuspect, 
 
 Friendly to man, far from deceit to guile. 
 
 What fear I then, rather what know to fear 
 
 Under this ignorance of good and evil, 
 
 Of God or death, of law or penalty ? 
 
 Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, 
 
 Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste. 
 
 Of virtue to make wise : what hinders then 
 
 To reach, and feed at once both body and mind ? 
 
 So saying, her rash hand in evil hour 
 Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat . 
 Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat 
 Sighing through all her works gave signs of wo 
 That all was lost. Back to the thicket slunk 
 The guilty serpent, and well might, for Eve 
 Intent now wholly on her taste, naught else 
 Regarded, such delight till then, as seem'd, 
 In fruit she never tasted, whether true 
 Or fancy'd so, through expectation high 
 Of knowledge, nor was godhead from her thought. 
 Greedily she ingorg'd without restraint. 
 And knew not eating death : satiate at length. 
 And heighten'd as with wine, jocund and boon 
 Thus to herself she pleasantly began : 
 
 O sov'reign, virtuous, precious of all trees 
 In Paradise, of operation bl-est 
 To sapience, hitherto obscur'd, infam'd. 
 And thy fair fruit let hang, as to no end 
 Created ; but henceforth mv early care, 
 30* 
 
234 PARADISE LOST. [book h. 
 
 Not without song, each morning and due praise, 
 Shall tend thee, and the fertile burden ease 
 Of thy full branches offer'd free to all ; 
 Till dieted by th«e I grow mature 
 In knowledge, as the gods who all things know ; 
 Though others envy what they cannot give ; 
 For had the gift been theirs, it had not here 
 Thus grown. Experience, next to thee I owe, 
 Best guide ; not following thee I had remain'd 
 In ignorance ; thou open'st wisdom's way, 
 And giv'st access, though secret she retire. 
 And I perhaps am secret ; heav'n is high. 
 High, and remote to see from thence distinct 
 Each thing on earth; and other care perhaps 
 May have diverted from continual watch 
 Our great forbidder, safe with all his spies 
 About him. But to Adam in what sort 
 Shall I appear ? shall I to him make known 
 As yet my change, and give him to partake 
 Full happiness with me, or rather not. 
 But keep the odds of knowledge in my power 
 Without co-partner ? so to add what wants 
 In female sex, the more to draw his love, 
 And render me more equal, and perhaps, 
 A thing not undesirable, sometime 
 Superior ; for inferior who is free ? 
 This may be well : but what if God have seen, 
 And death ensue ? then I shall be no more. 
 And Adam wedded to another Eve, 
 Shall live with her eni frying, I extinct ; 
 A death to think. Confirm'd then I resolve, 
 Adam shall share with me in bliss or wo ; 
 So dear I love him, that with him all deaths 
 I could endure, without him live no life. 
 
 So saying, from the tree her step she turn'd. 
 But first low reverence done, as to the power 
 That dwelt within, whose presence had infus'd, 
 Into the plant sciential sap, deriv'd 
 From nectar, drink of gods. Adam the while 
 
BOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 235 
 
 Wailing desirous her return, had wove 
 
 Of choicest fiow'rs a garland to adorn 
 
 Her tresses, and her rural labours crown, 
 
 As reapers oft are wont their harvest queen. 
 
 Great joy he promis'd to his thoughts, and new 
 
 Solace in her return, so long delay'd ; 
 
 Yet oft his heart, divine of something ill. 
 
 Misgave him ; he the falt'ring measure felt ; 
 
 And forth to meet her went, the way she took 
 
 That morn when first they parted ; by the tree 
 
 Of knowledge he must pass, there he her me 
 
 Scarce from the tree returning ; in her hand 
 
 A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smil'd 
 
 New gather'd, and ambrosial smell diffus'd. 
 
 To him she hasted ; in her face excuse 
 
 Came prologue, and apology too prompt, 
 
 Which with bland words at will she thus address'd ; 
 
 Hast thou not wonder'd, Adam, at my stay ? 
 Thee I have miss'd, and thought it long deprived 
 Thy presence, agony of love till now 
 Not felt, nor shall be twice, for never more 
 Mean I to try, what rash untry'd I sou-ght. 
 The pain of absence from thy sight. But strange 
 Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear ; 
 This tree is not as we are told, a tree 
 Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown 
 Opening the way, but of divine effect 
 To open eyes, and make them gods who taste; 
 And hath been tasted such ; the serpent wise, 
 Or not restrain'd as we. or not obeying, 
 Hath eaten of the fruit, and is become, 
 Not dead, as we are threaten'd, but thenceforth 
 Endued with voice and human sense, 
 Reasoning to admiration, and with me 
 Persuasively hath so prevaiPd, that I 
 Have also tasted, and have also found 
 Th' effects to correspond, opener mine eyes, 
 Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart, 
 And growing up to godhead ; which for thee 
 
S36 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK IX. 
 
 Chiefly I sought, without thee can despise. 
 For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss, 
 Tedious unshar'd with thee, and odious soon* 
 Thou therefore also taste, that equal lot 
 May join us, equal joy, as equal love J 
 Lest thou not tasting, different degree 
 Disjoin us, and I then too late renounce 
 Deity for thee, when fate will not permit. 
 
 Thus Eve with count'nance blithe her story told 5 
 But in her cheek distemper flushing glow'd. 
 On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard 
 The fatal trespass done by Eve, amaz'd, 
 Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill 
 Ran through his veins, and all his joints relax'd; 
 From his slack hand the garland wreath'd for Eve 
 Down dropt, and all the faded roses shed : 
 Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length 
 First to himself he inv/ard silence broke : 
 O fairest of creation, last and best 
 Of all God's works, creature in whom excell'd 
 Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd, 
 Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet ! 
 How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, 
 Defac'd, deflower'd, and now to death devote ? 
 Rather how hast thou yielded to transgress 
 The strict forbiddance, how to violate 
 The sacred fruit forbidden ? some cursed fraud 
 Of enemy hath beguil'd thee, yet unknown, 
 And me with thee hath ruin'd, for with thee 
 Certain my resolution is to die ; 
 How can I live without thee, how forego 
 Thy sweet converse and love so dearly join'd, 
 To live again in these wild woods forlorn ? 
 Should God create another Eve, and I 
 Another rib afford, yet loss of thee 
 Would never from my heart ; no no, I feel 
 The link of nature draw me : flesh of flesh, 
 Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state 
 Mine never shall be parted, bliss or wo. 
 
BOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 237 
 
 So having said, as one from sad dismay 
 Eecomforted, and after thoughts disturb'd 
 Submitting to what seem'd remediless, 
 Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turn'd : 
 
 Bold deed thou hast presum'd, advent'rous Eve, 
 And peril great provok'd, who thus hast dar'd, 
 Had it been only coveting to eye 
 That sacred fruit, sacred to abstinence, 
 Much more to taste it under ban to touch. 
 But past who can recal, or done undo ? 
 Not God omnipotent, nor Fate ; yet so 
 Perhaps thou shalt not die, perhaps the fact 
 Is not so heinous now, foretasted fruit, 
 Profan'd first by the serpent, by him first 
 Made common and unhallow'd ere our taste ; 
 Nor yet on him found deadly, he yet lives, 
 Lives, as thou saidst, and gains to live as man 
 Higher degree of life, inducement strong 
 To us, as likely tasting to attain 
 Proportional ascent, which cannot be 
 But to be gods, or angels, demi-gods. 
 Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, 
 Though threat'ning, will in earnest so destroy 
 Us his prime creatures, dignify'd so high, 
 Set over all his works, which in our fall, 
 For us created, needs with us must fail, 
 Dependent made ; so God shall uncreate, 
 Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose, 
 Not well conceiv'd of God, who, though his power 
 Creation could repeat, yet would be loath 
 Us to abolish, lest the adversary 
 Triumph and say ; Fickle their state whom God 
 Most favours ; who can please him long ? Me first 
 He ruin'd, now mankind ; whom will he next ? 
 Matter of scorn, not to be given the foe. 
 However I with thee have fix'd my lot, 
 Certain to undergo like aoom ; if death 
 Consort with thee, death is to me as life ; 
 So forcible within my heart I feel 
 
238 PARADISE LOST. [boOK IT \ 
 
 The bond of nature draw me to my own, 
 My own in thee, for what thou art is mine J 
 Our state cannot be sever'd, we are one, 
 One flesh ; to lose thee were to lose myself. 
 
 So Adam, and thus Eve to him reply 'd : 
 O glorious trial of exceeding love. 
 Illustrious evidence, example high ! 
 Engaging me to emulate, but short 
 Of thy perfection, how shall I attain, 
 Adam ? from whose dear side I boast me sprung, 
 And gladly of our union hear thee speak. 
 One heart, one soul in both ; whereof good proof 
 This day affords, declaring thee resolv'd. 
 Rather than death or aught than death more dr^ad 
 Shall separate us, link'd in love so dear. 
 To undergo with me one guilt, one crime, 
 If any be, of tasting this fair fruit, 
 Whose virtue (for of good still good proceeds. 
 Direct, or by occasion) hath presented 
 This happy trial of thy love, which else 
 So eminently never had been known. 
 Were it I thought death menac'd would ensue 
 This my attempt, I would sustain alone 
 The worst, and not persuade thee, rather die 
 Deserted, than oblige thee Avith a fact 
 Pernicious to thy peace, chiefly assur'd 
 Remarkably so late, of thy so true, 
 So faithful love unequal'd ; but I feel 
 Far otherwise th' event, not death, but life 
 Augmented, open'd eyes, new hopes, new joys, 
 Taste so divine, that what of sweet before 
 Hath touch'd my sense, flat seems to this, an(J barsk 
 On my experience, Adam, freely taste, 
 And fear of death deliver to the winds. 
 
 So saying, she embrac'd him, and for joy 
 Tenderly wept, much won that he his love 
 Had so ennobled, as of choice to incur 
 Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 
 In recompense (for such compliance bad 
 
aOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 255 
 
 Such recompense best merits) from the bough 
 
 She gave him of that fair enticing fruit 
 
 With liberal hand : he scrupled not to eat 
 
 Against his better knowledge, not deceiv'd, 
 
 But fondly overcome Avith female charm. 
 
 Earth trembled from her entrails, as again 
 
 In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan, 
 
 Sky lour'd, and muttering thunder, some sad drops 
 
 Wept at completing of the mortal sin 
 
 Original ; while Adam took no thought, 
 
 Eating his fill, nor Eve to iterate 
 
 Her former trespass fear'd, the more to soothe 
 
 Him with her lov'd society that now 
 
 As with new wine intoxicated both, 
 
 They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel 
 
 Divinity within them breeding wings 
 
 Wherewith to scorn the earth : but that false fruit 
 
 Far other operation first display'd, 
 
 Carnal desire inflaming ; he on Eve 
 
 Began to cast lascivious eye, she him 
 
 As wantonly repaid ; in lust they burn : 
 
 Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move : 
 
 Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste, 
 And elegant, of sapience no small part, 
 Since to each meaning savour we apply, 
 And palate call judicious ; I the praise 
 Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purveyed 
 Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstain'd 
 From this delightful fruit, nor known till now 
 True relish, tasting ; if such pleasure be 
 Tn things to us forbidd'n, it might be wish'd, 
 For this one tree had been forbidden ten. 
 But come, so well refresh'd, now let us play, 
 As meet is after such delicious fare; 
 For never did thy beauty since the day 
 I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorn'd 
 With all perfections, so inflame my sense 
 With ardour to enjoy thee, fairer now 
 Than ever, bounty of this virtuous tree. 
 
S40 PARADISE LOST. [^002 IX. 
 
 So said he, and forbore not glance or toy 
 Of amorous intent, well understood 
 Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire» 
 Her hand he seiz'd, and to a shady bank, 
 Thick overhead with verdant roof embow'rd. 
 He led her nothing loath ; flow'rs were the couch 
 Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, 
 And hyacinth, earth's freshest softest lap. 
 There they their fill of love and love's disport 
 Took largely, of their mutual guilt the seal, 
 The solace of their sin, till dewy sleep 
 Oppress'd them, wearied with their amorous play. 
 Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit, 
 That with exhilarating vapour bland 
 About their spirits had play'd, and inmost powers. 
 Made err, was now exhal'd ; and grosser sleep 
 Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 
 Encumber'd, now had left them ; up they rose 
 As from unrest, and each the other viewing, 
 Soon found their eyes how open'd, and their mil ^ 
 How darken'd ; innocence, that as a veil 
 Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gone, 
 Just confidence, and native righteousness, 
 And honour from about them, naked left 
 To guilty shame : he cover'd, but his robe 
 Uncover'd more. So rose the Danite strong 
 Herculean Sampson from the harlot-lap 
 Of Philistean Dalilah, and wak'd 
 Shorn of his strength, they destitute and bare 
 Of all their virtue : silent, and in face 
 Confounded long they sat, as stricken mute, 
 Till Adam, though not less than E ve abash'd, 
 At length gave utterance to these words constrain'd 
 
 O Eve, in evil hour thou ^idst give ear 
 To that false worm, of whomsoever taught 
 To counterfeit man's voice, true in our fall. 
 False in our promis'd rising ; since our eyes 
 Open'd we find indeed, and find we know 
 Both good and evil, good lost, and evil got. 
 
BOOK IX.] PARADISE LOST. 241 
 
 Bad fruit of knowledge ^ if this be to know 
 
 Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void, 
 
 Of innocence, of faith, of purity. 
 
 Our wonted ornaments now soil'd and stain'd. 
 
 And in our faces evident the signs^ 
 
 Of foul concupiscence : whence evil store ; 
 
 Ev'n shame, the last of evils ; of the first 
 
 Be sure then. How shall I behold the face 
 
 Henceforth of God or angel erst with joy 
 
 And rapture so oft beheld ? those heavenly shapes 
 
 Will dazzle now this earthly with their blaze 
 
 Insufferably bright. O might I here 
 
 In solitude like savage, in some giade 
 
 Obscur'd, where highest woods impenetrable 
 
 To star or sun-light spread their umbrage broad 
 
 And brown as evening : cover me, ye pines. 
 
 Ye cedars, with innumerable boughs 
 
 Hide me, where I may never see them more.. 
 
 But let us now, as in bad plight, devise 
 
 What best may for the present serve to hide 
 
 The parts of each from other, that seem most 
 
 To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen : 
 
 Some tree, whose broad smooth leaves together sow^S, 
 
 And girded on our loins, may cover round 
 
 Those middle parts, that this new comer shame 
 
 There sit not, and reproach us as unclean. 
 
 So counsell'd he, and both together went 
 Into the thickest wood ; there soon they chose 
 The fig-tree, not that kind for fruit reno^vn'd, 
 But such as at this day to Indians known 
 In Malabar or Decan spread her arms 
 Branching so broad and long, that in the ground 
 The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 
 About the mother tree, a pillar'd shade 
 High over-arch'd and echoing walks between ; 
 There oft the Indian herdsman shunning heat 
 Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds 
 At loop-holes cut thro' thickest shade. Those leaves 
 They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe, 
 21 
 
242 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK IX, 
 
 And with what skill they had, together sow'd 
 To gird their waist, vain covering if to hide 
 Their guilt and dreaded shame ; how unlike 
 To that first naked glory ! Such of late 
 Columbus found th' American, so girt 
 With feather'd cincture, naked else and wild 
 Among the trees on isles and woody shores. 
 Thus fenc'd and as they thought, their shame in part 
 Cover'd, but not at rest, or ease of mind. 
 They sat them down to weep ; nor only tears 
 Rain'd at their eyes, but high winds worse within 
 Began to rise, high passions, anger, hate, 
 Mistrust, suspicion, discord, and shook sore 
 Their inward state of mind, calm region once 
 And full of peace, now tost and turbulent ; 
 For understanding rul'd not, and the will 
 Heard not her lore, both in subjection now 
 To sensual appetite, who from beneath 
 Usurping over sov'reign reason claim'd 
 Superior sway: from thus distemper'd breast, 
 Adam, estrang'd in look and altered style, 
 Speech intermitted thus to Eve renew'd : 
 
 Would thou hadst hearken'd to my words and stay'd 
 With me as I besought thee, when that strange 
 Desire of wand'ring this unhappy morn, 
 I know not whence, possess'd thee ; we had then 
 Remain'd still happy, not as now despoil'd 
 Of all our good, sham'd, naked, miserable. 
 Let none henceforth seek needless cause t' approve 
 The faith they owe ; when earnestly they seek 
 Such proof, conclude they then begin to fail. 
 
 To whom soon mov'd with touch of blame thus Eve. 
 What words have pass'd thy lips, Adam severe ! 
 Imput'st thou that to my default, or will 
 Of wand'ring, as thou call'st it, which who knows 
 But might as ill have happen'd thou being by, 
 Or to thyself perhaps ? hadst thou been there, 
 Or here th' attempt, thou couldst not have discern'd 
 Fraud in the serpent, speaking as he spake ; 
 
BOOK U.\ PARADISE LOST. 243 
 
 No ground of enmity between us known, 
 Why he should mean me ill, or seek to harm. 
 Was I to have never parted from thy side ? 
 As good have grown there still a lifeless rib. 
 Being as I am, why didst not thou the head 
 Command me absolutely not to go, 
 Going into such danger as thou saidst? 
 Too facile then thou didst not much gainsay, 
 Nay didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss. 
 Hadst thou been firm and fix'd in thy dissent, 
 Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with me. 
 
 To whom then first incens'd Adam reply'd : 
 Is this the love, is this the recompense 
 Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve, express'd 
 Immutable when thou wert lost, not I, 
 Who might have liv'd and joy'd immortal bliss, 
 Yet willingly chose rather death with thee ! 
 And am I now upbraided as the cause 
 Of thy transgressing ? not enough severe, 
 It seems, in thy restraint: what could I more? 
 I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold 
 The danger, and the lurking enemy 
 That lay in wait ; beyond this had been force, 
 And force upon free will hath here no place. 
 But confidence then bore thee on, secure 
 Either to meet no danger, or to find 
 Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps 
 I also err'd in overmuch admiring 
 What seem'd in thee so perfect, that I thought 
 No evil durst attempt thee, but I rue 
 That error now, which is become my crime, 
 And thou th' accuser. Thus it shall befal 
 Him who to worth in women overtrusting 
 Lets her will rule : restraint she will not brook. 
 And left to herself, if evil thence ensue. 
 She first his weak indulgence will accuse. 
 
 Thus they in mutual accusation spent 
 The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning, 
 And of their vain contest appear'd no end. 
 
 END OF THE NINTH BOOK. 
 
THE 
 
 TENTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Man's transgression known, the guardian angels forsake Paradise^ 
 and return up to Heaven to approve their vigilance, and are ap- 
 proved, God declaring that the entrance of Satan could not be by 
 them prevented. He sends his Son to judge the transgressors, 
 who descends and gives sentence accordingly ; then in pity clothes 
 them both, and reascends. 
 
 Sin and Death sitting till then at the gates of Hell, by won- 
 drous sympathy feeling the success of Satan in this new world, 
 and the sin by man there committed, resolves to sit no longer con- 
 fined in Hell, but to follow Satan their sire up to the place of 
 man : to make the way easier from Hell to this world to and fro, 
 they pave a broad high-way or bridge over Chaos, according to 
 the track that Satan first made ; then preparing for Earth, they 
 meet him proud of his success, returning to Hell ; their mutual 
 gratulation. Satan arrives at Pandemonium, in full assembly 
 relates with boasting his success against man : instead of ap- 
 plause is entertained with a general hiss by all his audience, 
 transformed with himself also suddenly into serpents, according 
 to his doom given in Paradise ; then deluded with a show of the 
 forbidden tree springing up before them, they greedily reaching 
 to take of the fruit, chew dust and bitter ashes. The proceedings 
 ctf Sin and Death ; God foretels the final victory of his Son over 
 them, and the renewing of all things : but for the present com- 
 mands his angels to make several alterations in the Heavens and 
 elements. Adam more and more perceiving his fallen condition 
 heavily bewails, rejects the condolement of Eve : she persists, and 
 at length appeases him : then to evade the curse likely to fall 
 on their offspring, proposes to Adam violent ways, which he ap- 
 
 {)roves not, but conceiving better hope, puts her in mind of the 
 ate promise made them, that her seed should be revenged on the 
 serpent, and exhorts her with him to seek peace of the offended 
 Deity, by repentance and supplication. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 Meanwhile the heinous and despiteful act 
 
 Of Satan done in Paradise, and how 
 
 He in the serpent, had perverted Eve, 
 
 Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit, 
 
 AVas known in heav'n ; for what can 'scape the eye 
 
 Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart 
 
 Omniscient ? who in all things wise and just, 
 
 Hinder'd not Satan to attempt the mind 
 
 Of man, with strength entire and free will arm'd, 
 
 Complete to have discover'd and repuls'd 
 
 Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. 
 
 For still they knew, and ought to have still remem 
 
 ber'd 
 The high injunction not to taste that fruit, 
 "Whoever tempted ; which they not obeying, 
 Incurr'd (what could they less ?) the penalty, 
 And manifold in sin, deserv'd to fall. 
 Up into heav'n from Paradise in haste 
 The angelic guards ascended, mute and sad 
 For man, for of his state by this they knew. 
 Much wond'ring how the subtle fiend had stol'n 
 Entrance unseen. Soon as th' unwelcome news 
 From earth, arriv'd at heav'n gate, displeas'd 
 All were who heard : dim sadness did not spare 
 That time celestial visages, yet mix'd 
 
248 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK X. 
 
 With pity, violated not their bliss. 
 About the new-arriv'd, in multitudes 
 Th' etherial people ran, to hear and know 
 How all befel ; they towards the throne supreme, 
 Accountable made haste to make appear 
 With righteous plea their utmost vigilance, 
 And easily approv'd ; when the most high 
 Eternal Father, from his secret cloud :^ 
 Amidst, in thunder utter'd thus his voice : 
 
 Assembled angels, and ye pow'rs return'd 
 From unsuccessful charge, be not dismay'd, 
 Nor troubled at these tidings from the earth, 
 Which your sincerest care could not prevent, 
 Foretold so lately what would come to pass. 
 When first this tempter cross'd the gulf from hell. 
 I told ye then he should prevail and speed 
 On his bad errand, man should be seduc'd 
 And flatter'd out of all, believing lies 
 Against his Maker ; no decree of mine 
 Concurring to necessitate his fall. 
 Or touch with lightest moment of impulse 
 His free will, to her own inclining left 
 In even scale. But fallen he is, and now 
 What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass 
 On his transgression, death denounc'd that day ? 
 Which he presumes already vain and void, 
 Because not yet inflicted, as he fear'd. 
 By some immediate stroke ; but soon shall find 
 Forbearance no acquittance, ere day end 
 Justice shall not return as bounty scorn'd. 
 But whom send I to judge them ? whom but thee 
 Vicegerent Son? to thee I have transferr'd 
 All judgment whether in heav'n, or earth, or hell. 
 Easy it may be seen that I intend 
 Mercy colleague with justice, sending thee 
 Man's friend, his mediator, his design'd 
 Both ransom and redeemer voluntary, 
 And destin'd man himself to judge man fall'n. 
 
BOOKX.] TARADISE LOST. 249 
 
 So spake the Father, and unfolding briglrt 
 Toward the right hand his glory, on the Son 
 Blaz'd forth unclouded deity; he full 
 Kesplendent all his Father manifest 
 Express'd, and thus divinely answer'd mild: 
 
 Father eternal, thine is to decree, 
 Mine both in heav'n and earth, to do thy will 
 Supreme, that thou in me thy Son belov'd 
 Mayst ever rest well pleas'd. I go to judge 
 On earth these thy transgressors, but thou know'st, 
 Whoever judg'd, the worst on me must light, 
 When time shall be, for so I undertook 
 Before thee ; and not repenting, this obtain 
 Of right, that I may mitigate their doom 
 On me deriv'd, yet I shall temper so 
 Justice with mercy, as m.ay illustrate most 
 Them fully satisfy'd, and thee appease. 
 Attendance none shall need, nor train, where nans 
 Are to behold the judgment, but the jug'd, 
 Those two; the third best absent is condemn'd, 
 Convict by flight, and rebel to all law ; 
 Conviction to the serpent none belongs. 
 
 Thus saying from his radiant seat he rose 
 Of high collateral glory : him thrones and powers, 
 Princedoms, and dominations ministrant 
 Accompanied to heav'n gate, from whence 
 Eden and all the coast in prospect lay. 
 Down he descended straight; the speed of gods 
 Time counts not, tho' with swiftest minutes wing'd. 
 Now was the sun in western cadence low 
 From noon, and gentle airs due at their hour 
 To fan the earth now wak'd, and usher in 
 The evening cool, when he from wrath more cool 
 Came the mild judge and intercessor both 
 To sentence man : the voice of God they heard 
 Now walking in the garden, by soft winds 
 Brought to their ears, while day declin'd ; they heard, 
 And from his presence hid themselves among 
 The thickest trees, both man and wife, till God 
 
PARADISE LOST. [bOOK X 
 
 Approaching, thus to Adam call'd aloud : 
 Where art thou Adam, wont with joy to meet 
 My coming seen far off? I miss thee here, 
 Not pleas'd, thus entertain'd with solitude, 
 "Where obvious duty erewhile appear'd unsought : 
 Or come I less conspicuous, or what change 
 Absents thee, or what chance detain ? Come forth I 
 
 He came, and with him Eve, more loath, though 
 first 
 To offend, discount'nanc'd both, and discomposed ; 
 Love was not in their looks, either to God 
 Or to each other, but apparent guilt, 
 And shame, and perturbation, and despair. 
 Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile. 
 Whence Adam, falt'ring long, thus answer'd brief, 
 1 heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice 
 Afraid, being naked, hid myself. To whom 
 The gracious judge, without revile reply'd : 
 My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not fear'd, 
 But still rejoic'd; how is it now become 
 So dreadful to thee ? that thou art naked, who 
 Hath told thee ? hast thou eaten of the tree, 
 Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat ? 
 
 To whom thus Adam sore beset replied : 
 
 heav'n ! in evil strait this day I stand 
 Before my judge, either to undergo 
 Myself the total crime, or to accuse 
 My other self, the partner of my life ; 
 Whose failing, while her faith to me remains, 
 
 1 should conceal, and not expose to blame 
 By my complaint ; but strict necessity 
 Subdues me, and calamitous constraint. 
 Lest on my head both sin and punishment, 
 However insupportable, be all 
 
 Devolv'd : though should I hold my peace, yet thou 
 
 Wouldst easily detect what I conceal. 
 
 This woman, whom thou mad'st to be my help. 
 
 And gav'st me as thy perfect gift, so good, 
 
 So fit} so acceptable, so divine, 
 
BOOK X.] PAEADISE LOST. 251 
 
 That from her hand I could suspect no ill, 
 And what she did, whatever in itself, 
 Her doing seem'd to justify the deed ; 
 She gave me of the tree, and I did eat. 
 
 To whom the sov'reign Presence thus reply'd : 
 Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey 
 Before his voice, or was she made thy guide 
 Superior, or but equal, that to her 
 Thou didst thy manhood, and the place 
 Wherein God set thee above her made of thee, 
 And for thee, whose perfection far excell'd 
 Hers in real dignity? Adorn'd 
 She was indeed, and lovely to attract 
 Thy love, not thy subjection ; and her gifts 
 Were such as under government well seem'd, 
 Unseemly to bear rule, which was thy part 
 And person hadst thou known thyself aright. 
 
 So having said, he thus to Eve in few : 
 Say, woman, what is this which thou hast done ? 
 
 To whom sad Eve with shame nigh overwhelm'd. 
 Confessing soon, yet not before her judge 
 Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd reply'd : 
 The serpent me beguil'd and I did eat, 
 
 Which when the Lord God heard, without delay 
 To judgment he proceeded on th' accus'd 
 Serpent though brute, unable to transfer 
 The guilt on him who made him instrument 
 Of mischief, and polluted from the end 
 Of his creation : justly then accurs'd. 
 As vitiated in nature ; more to know 
 Concerned not man (since he no further knew) 
 Nor alter'd his offence ; yet God at last 
 To satan first in sin his doom apply'd, 
 Though in mysterious terms, judged as then best: 
 And on the serpent thus his curse let fall : 
 Because thou hast done this, thou art accurs'd 
 Above all cattle, each beast of the field ; 
 Upon thy belly groveling thou shalt go. 
 And dust shall eat all the days of thy life. 
 
262 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK Z. 
 
 Between thee and the woman, I will put 
 
 Enmity, and between thine and her seed ; 
 
 Her seed shall bruise thyJbead, thou bruise his heel. 
 
 So spake this oracle, then verify'd 
 When Jesus son of Mary, second Eve, 
 Saw Satan fall like lightning down from heav'n, 
 Prince of the air ; then rising from his grave 
 Spoil'd principalities and pow'rs, triumph'd 
 In open show, and with ascension bright, 
 Captivity led captive through the air, 
 The realm itself of Satan long usurp'd. 
 Whom he shall tread at last under our feet ; 
 Ev'n he who now foretold his fatal bruise. 
 And to the woman thus his sentence turn'd : 
 Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply 
 By thy conception ; children thou shalt bring 
 In sorrow forth ; and to thy husband's will 
 Thine shall submit; he over thee shall rule. 
 
 On Adam last thus judgment he pronounc'd: 
 Because thou hast hearken'd to the voice of thy wife, 
 And eaten of the tree, concerning which 
 I charg'd thee saying, Thou shalt not eat thereof: 
 Curs'd is the ground for thy sake ; thou in sorrow 
 Shalt eat thereof all the days of thy life ; 
 Thorns also and thistles it shall bring thee forth 
 Unhid ; and thou shalt eat th' herb of the field. 
 In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, 
 Till thou return unto the ground ; for thou 
 Out of the ground wast taken, know thy birth, 
 For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return. 
 
 So judg'd he man, both judge and saviour sent, 
 And th' instant stroke of death denounc'd that day 
 Kemov'd far off: then pitying how they stood 
 Before him naked to the air, that now 
 Must suffer change, disdain'd not to begin 
 Thenceforth the form of servant to assume. 
 As when he wash'd his servants' feet, so now, 
 As father of his family he clad 
 Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slain, 
 
BOOK X.J PARADISE LOST. 2^ 
 
 Or as the snake with youthful coat repaid ; 
 
 And thought not much to clothe his enemies; 
 
 Nor he their outward only with the skins 
 
 Of beasts, but inward nakedness, much more 
 
 Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness, 
 
 Arraying cover'd from his Father's sight. 
 
 To him with swift ascent he up return'd. 
 
 Into his blissful bosom reassum'd 
 
 In glory as of old ; to him appeas'd 
 
 All, though all-knowing, what had pass'd with man 
 
 Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. 
 
 Meanwhile ere thus was sinn'd and judg'd on Earth, 
 Within the gates of hell sat Sin and Death, 
 In counterview within the gates, that now 
 Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame 
 Far into Chaos, since the fiend pass'd through, 
 Sin opening, \^ ho thus now to Death began : 
 
 O son, why sit we here each other veiwing 
 Idly, while Satan our great author thrives 
 In other worlds, and happier seat provides 
 For us his offspring dear ? It ca.nnot be 
 But that success attends him ; if mishap, 
 Ere this he had return'd, with fury driven 
 By his avengers, since no place like this 
 Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. 
 Methinks I feel new strength within me rise, 
 Wings growing, and dominion given me large 
 Beyond this deep ; whatever draws me on, 
 Or sympathy, or some connatural force 
 Pow'rful at greatest distance to unite 
 With secret amity things of like kind 
 By secretest conveyance. Thou my shade 
 Inseparable must with me along : 
 For Death from Sin no pow'r can separate. 
 But lest the difficulty of passing back 
 Stay his return perhaps over this gulf 
 Impassable, impervious, let us try 
 Advent'rous work, yet to thy pow'r and miae 
 Not unagreneable. to found apath 
 
254 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK X 
 
 Over this main from hell to that new world 
 Where Satan now prevails, a monument 
 Of merit high to all th' infernal host, 
 Easing their passage hence, for intercourse, 
 Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead. 
 Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn 
 By this new felt attraction and instinct. 
 
 Whom thus the meagre shadow answer'd soon : 
 Go whither fate and inclination strong 
 Leads thee ; I shall not lag behind, nor err 
 The way, thou leading, such a scent I draw 
 Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste 
 The savour of death from all things there that live . 
 Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest 
 Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid. 
 
 So saying, with delight he snuff 'd the smell 
 Of mor>tal change on earth. As when a flock 
 Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote, 
 \gainst the day of battle, to a field, 
 jVhere armies lie encamp'd, come flying, lur'd 
 With scent of living carcasses dcsign'd 
 For death the following day, in bloody fight : 
 So scented the grim feature, and upturn'd 
 His nostril wide into the murky air, 
 Sagacious of his quarry from so far. 
 Then both from out hell gates into the waste 
 Wide anarchy of Chaos damp and dark 
 Flew diverse, and with pow'r (their pow'r was great) 
 Hovering upon the waters, what they met 
 Solid or slimy, as in raging sea 
 Tost up and down, together crowded drove 
 From each side shoahng towards the mouth of hell • 
 As when two polar winds, blowing adverse, 
 Upon the Cronian sea, together drive 
 Mountains of ice, that stop th' imugin'd way 
 BeyonJ Petsora eastward, to the rich 
 Cathaian coast. The aggregated soil 
 Death with his mace petrific, cold and dry, 
 As with a trident smote, and fix'd as firm 
 
BOOK X.] PARADISE LOST. 25.5 
 
 As Delos floating once ; tlie rest his look 
 
 Bound with Gorgonian rigour not to move ; 
 
 And with asphaltic slime, broad as the gate, 
 
 Deep as the roots of hell the gather'd beach 
 
 They fasten'd, and the mole immense wrought on 
 
 Over the foaming deep high arch'd, a bridge 
 
 Of length prodigious, joining to the wall 
 
 Immoveable of this now fenceless world 
 
 Forfeit to Death ; from hence a passage broad, 
 
 Smooth, easy, inoffensive down to hell. 
 
 So if great things to small may be compar'd, 
 
 Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke. 
 
 From Susa, his Memnonian palace high, 
 
 Came to the sea, and over Hellespont 
 
 Bridging his way, Europe with Asia join'd; 
 
 And scourg'd with many a stroke the indignant waves. 
 
 Now had they brought the work by wondrous art 
 
 Pontifical, a ridge of pendant rock, 
 
 Over the vex'd abyss, following the track 
 
 Of Satan to the self-same place where he 
 
 First lighted from his wing, and landed safe 
 
 From out of Chaos, to the outside bare 
 
 Of this round world : with pins of adamant 
 
 And chains they made all fast, too fast they mad© 
 
 And durable ; and now in little space 
 
 The confines met of empyrean heav'n 
 
 And of this world, and on the left hand hell 
 
 With long reach interpos'd; three several ways 
 
 [n sight, to each of these three places led. 
 
 And now their way to earth they had descay'd 
 
 To Paradise first tending, when behold 
 
 Satan in likeness of an angel bright 
 
 Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion steering 
 
 His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose : 
 
 Disguis'd he came, but those his children dear 
 
 Their parent soon discern'd, though in disguise. 
 
 He after Eve seduc'd, unminded slunk 
 
 Into the wood fast by, and changing shape 
 
 To observe the sec^uel, saw his guileful acj 
 
256 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK X. 
 
 By Eve, though all unweeting seconded 
 
 Upon her husband, saw their shame that sought 
 
 Vain covertures ; but when he saw descend 
 
 The Son of God to judge them, terrify'd 
 
 He fled, not hoping to escape, but shun 
 
 The present, fearing guilty what his wrath 
 
 Might suddenly inflict ; that past, return'd 
 
 By night, and list'ning where the hapless pair 
 
 Sat in their sad discourse, and various plaint ; 
 
 Thence gather'd his own doom, which understood 
 
 Not instant, but of future time, with joy 
 
 And tidings fraught, to hell he now return'd, 
 
 And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot 
 
 Of this new wondrous pontifice, unhop'd 
 
 Met who to meet him came, his offspring dear. 
 
 Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight 
 
 Of that stupendous bridge his joy increas'd. 
 
 Long he admiring stood, till Sin, his fair 
 
 En:hanting daughter, thus the silence broke : 
 
 O parent, these are thy magnific deeds, 
 Thy trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own; 
 Thou art their author and prime architect : 
 For I no sooner in my heart divin'd, 
 My heart, which by a secret harmony 
 Still moves with thine, join'd in connexion sweet. 
 That thou on earth hadst prosper'd, which thy looks 
 Now also evidence, but straight I felt 
 Though distant from the worlds between, yet felt 
 That I must after thee v/ith this thy son, 
 Such fatal consequence unites us three : 
 Hell could no longer hold us in her bounds, 
 Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure 
 Detain from following thy illustrious track. 
 Thou hast achiev'd our liberty, confin'd 
 Within hell gates till now, thou us impower'd 
 To fortify thus far, and overlay 
 With this portentous bridge the dark abyss. 
 Thine now is all this world ; thy virtue hath won 
 What thy hands builded not, thy wisdom gain'd 
 
BOOK X.] PAlftADlSE LOSt. ^B7 
 
 With odds what war hath lost, and fully aveng'd 
 Our foil in heav'n ; here thou shalt monarch reign, 
 There didst not ; there let him still victor sway, 
 As battle hath ajudg'd, from this new world 
 Retiring, by his own doom alienated. 
 And henceforth monarchy with thee divide 
 Of all things parted by th' empyreal bounds, 
 His quadrature, from thy orbicular world. 
 Or try thee now more dang'rous to his throne. 
 
 Whom thus the prince of darkness answer'd glad . 
 Fair daughter, and thou son and grandchild both, 
 High proof ye now have giv'n to be the race 
 Of Satan (for I glory in the name, 
 Antagonist of heav'n's almighty King,) 
 Amply have merited of me, of all 
 Th' infernal empire, that so near heavVs door 
 Triumphal with triumphal act have met, 
 Mine with this glorious work, and made one realm 
 Hell and this world, one realm, one continent 
 Of easy thorough-fare. Therefore while I 
 Descend through darkness, on your road with ease, 
 To my associate pow'rs, them to acquaint 
 With these successes, and with them rejoice, 
 You two this way, among these numerous orbs 
 All yours, right down to Paradise descend ; 
 There dwell and reign in bliss, thence on the earth 
 Dominion exercise and in the air, 
 Chiefly on man, sole lord of all declar'd 
 Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill. 
 My substitutes T send ye, and create 
 Plenipotent on earth, of matchless might 
 Issuing from me : on your joint vigour now 
 My hold of this neAV kingdom all depends, 
 Through Sin to Death expos'd by my exploil, 
 If your joint power prevail, th' affairs of hell 
 No detriment need fear ; go and be strong. 
 
 So saying, he dismiss'd them ; they with speed 
 Theii course through thickest conste'iations held, 
 Spreading iheir bane; the blasted stars look'd wan, 
 
258 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK X* 
 
 And planets, planet-struck, real eclipse 
 
 Then suffer'd. Th' other way Satan went down 
 
 The causey to hell gate ; on either side 
 
 Disparted Chaos overbuilt exclaim'd, 
 
 And with rebounding surge the bars assail'd, 
 
 That scorn'd his indignation : through the gates, 
 
 Wide open and unguarded, Satan pass'd, 
 
 And all about found desolate ; for those 
 
 Appointed to sit there, had left their charge, 
 
 Flown to the upper world ; the rest were all 
 
 Far to the inland retir'd, about the walls 
 
 Of Pandemonium, city and proud seat 
 
 Of Lucifer, so by allusion call'd, 
 
 Of that bright star to Satan paragon'd. 
 
 There kept their watch the legions, while the grand 
 
 In council sat, solicitous what chance 
 
 Might intercept their emp'ror sent ; so he 
 
 Departing gave command, and they observed. 
 
 As when the Tartar from his Russian foe 
 By Astracan, over the snowy plains 
 Retires, or Bactrian sophi from the horns 
 Of Turkish crescent, leaves all waste beyond 
 The realm of Aladule, in his retreat 
 To Taurus or Casbeen : so these the late 
 Heav'n-banish'd host, lefi desert utmost hell 
 Many a dark league, reduc'd in careful watch 
 Round their metropolis, and now expecting 
 Each hour their great adventurer from the search 
 Of foreign worlds : he through the midst unmark'd 
 In show plebian, angel militant 
 Of lowest order, pass'd ; and from the door 
 Of that Plutonian hall, invisible 
 Ascended his high throne, which under state 
 Of richest texture spread, at the upper end 
 Was piac'd in regal lustre. Down awhile 
 He sat, and round about him saw unseen ; 
 At last as from a cloud his fulgent head 
 And shape star-bright appear'd, or brighter clad 
 With what permissive glory since his fall 
 
BOOKX.] PARADISE LOST. 259 
 
 Was left him, or false glitter : all amaz'd 
 At that so sudden blaze the Stygian throng 
 Bent their aspect, and whom they wish'd beheld, 
 Their mighty chief return'd : loud was th' acclaim ; 
 Forth rush'd in haste the great consulting peers, 
 Rais'd from their dark divan, and with like joy 
 Congratulant approach'd him, who with hand 
 Silence, and with these words attention won : 
 
 Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 
 For in possession such, not only of right, 
 i call ye and declare ye now, return'd 
 Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth 
 Triumphant out of this infernal pit 
 Abominable, accurs'd, the house of wo. 
 And dungeon of our tyrant : now possess. 
 As lords, a spacious world, to our native heav'n 
 Little inferior, by my adventure hard 
 With peril great achiev'd. Long were to tell 
 What I have done, what suffer'd, with what pain 
 Voyag'd th' unreal, vast, unbounded deep 
 Of horrible confusion, over which 
 By Sin and Death a broad way now is pav'd 
 To expedite your glorious march ; but I 
 Toil'd out my uncouth passage, forc'd to ride 
 Th' untractable abyss, plung'd in the womb 
 Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wild. 
 That jealous of their secrets fiercely oppos'd 
 My journe}'' strange, with clamorous uproar 
 Protesting Fate supreme; thence how I found 
 The new created w^orld, which fame in heav'n 
 Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful 
 Of absolute perfection, therein man 
 Plac'd in a Paradise, by our exile 
 Made happy; him by fraud I have seduc'd 
 From his Creator, and the more to increase 
 Your wonder, with an apple ; he thereat 
 Offended, worth your laughter, hatli giv'n up 
 Both his beloved man and all his world. 
 To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, 
 
260 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK X. 
 
 Without our hazard, labour, or alarm, 
 
 To range in, and to dwell, and over man 
 
 To rule, as over all he should have rul'd. 
 
 True is, me also he hath judg'd, or rather 
 
 Me not, but the brute serpent in whose shape 
 
 Man I deceiv'd ; that which to me belongs 
 
 Is enmity, which he will put between 
 
 Me and mankind; I am to bruise his heel; 
 
 His seed, when is not set, shall bruise my head : 
 
 A world who would not purchase with a bruise, 
 
 Or much more grievous pain ? Ye have th' account 
 
 Of my performance : what remains, ye gods, 
 
 But up and enter now into full bliss ? 
 
 So having said, awhile he stood, expecting 
 Their universal shout and high applause 
 To fill his ear, when contrary he hears 
 On all sides from innumerable tongues 
 A dismal universal hiss, the sound 
 Of public scorn ; he wonder'd, but not long 
 Had leisure, wondering at himself now more ; 
 His visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare. 
 His arms clung to his ribs, his legs intwining 
 Each other, till supplanted down he fell 
 A monstrous serpent on his belly prone, 
 Reluctant, but in vain, a greater power 
 Now rul'd him, punish'd in the shape he sinn'd, 
 According to his doom ; he would have spoke, 
 But hiss for hiss return'd with forked tongue 
 To forked tongue, for now were all transform 'd 
 Alike, to serpents all as accessories 
 To his bold riot : dreadful was the din 
 Of hissing through the hall, thick swarming now 
 With complicated monsters head and tail, 
 Scorpion and asp, amphissena dire, 
 Cerastes horn'd, hydras, and elops drear, 
 And dipsas (not so thick swarm'd once the soil 
 Be-dropt with blood of gorgon, or the isle 
 Ophiusa,) but still greatest he the midst, 
 Now dragon grown, larger than whom the sun 
 
 i 
 
BOOK X.] PARADISE LOST. 261 
 
 Ingender'd in the Pythian vale on slime, 
 Huge Python, and his pow'r no less he seem'd 
 Above the rest still to retain ; they all 
 Him follow'd issuing forth to the open field, 
 Where all yet left of that revolted rout 
 Heav'n-fall'n, in station stood or just array. 
 Sublime, with expectation when to see 
 In triumph issuing forth their glorious chief; 
 They saw, but other sight instead, a crowd 
 Of ugly serpents ; horror on them fell. 
 And horrid sympathy ; for what they saw, 
 They felt themselves now changing ; down 
 
 arms, 
 Down fell both spear and shield, down they as fast, 
 And the dire hiss renewed, and the dire form 
 Catch'd by contagion, like in punishment, 
 As in their crime. Thus was th' applause they meant, 
 Turn'd to exploding hiss, triumph to shame 
 Cast on themselves from their own mouths. There 
 
 stood 
 A grove hard by, sprung up with this their change, 
 His will who reigns above, to aggravate 
 Their penance, laden with fair fruit, like that 
 Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve 
 Us'd by the tempter ; on that prospect strange 
 Their earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining 
 For one forbidden tree a multitude 
 Now ris'n, to work them further wo or shame : 
 Yet parch'd with scalding thirst and hunger fierce, 
 Though to delude them sent, could not abstain, 
 But on they roll'd in heaps, and up the trees 
 Climbing, sat thicker than the snaky locks 
 That cud'd Megaera : greedily they pluck'd 
 The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew 
 Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flam'd • 
 This more delusive, not the touch, but taste 
 Deceiv'd ; they fondly thinking to allay 
 Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit, 
 Chew'd bitter ashes, which th' offended taste 
 
262 PARADISE LOST. [SOOK X, 
 
 With spattering noise rejected : oft they assay 'd, 
 
 Hunger and thirst constraining, drugg'd as oft. 
 
 With hatefulest disrelish writh'd their jaws 
 
 With soot and cinders fill'd ; so oft they fell 
 
 Into the same illusion, not as man 
 
 Whom they triumph'd once laps'd. Thus were they 
 
 plagu'd 
 And worn with famine, long and ceaseless hiss, 
 Till their lost shape, permitted, they resum'd, 
 Yearly enjoin'd some say, to undergo 
 This annual humbling certain n umber 'd days, 
 To dash their pride, and joy for man seduc'd. 
 However some tradition they dispers'd 
 Among the heathen of their purchase got, 
 And fabled how the serpent, whom they call'd 
 Ophion with Eurynome, the wide 
 Encroaching Eve perhaps, had, first the rule 
 Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driven 
 And Ops, ere yet Dictsean Jove was born. 
 
 Meanwhile in Paradise the hellish pair 
 Too soon arriv'd, Sin there in pow'r before, 
 Once actual, now in body, and to dwell 
 Habitual habitant ; behind her Death 
 Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet 
 On his pale horse : to whom Sin thus began : 
 
 Second of Satan sprung, a'.l conqu'ring Death, 
 What think'st thou of our empire now, tho' earn'd 
 With travel difficult, no.^ better far 
 Than still at hell's darli iJireshold to have sat watch, 
 Unnam'd, undreaded, and thyself half starv'd ? 
 
 Whom thus the sin-born monster answer'd soon : 
 To me, who with eternal famine pine, 
 Alike is hell, or Paradise, or heav'n, 
 There best, where most with ravin I may meet ; 
 Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems 
 To stuff this maw, this vast unhide-bound corps. 
 
 To whom th' incestuous mother thus reply'd : 
 Thou therefore on these herbs, and fruits, and flow'rs 
 Feed first, en each beast next, and fish, and fowl, 
 
BOOK X.] PARADISE LOST. 263 
 
 No homely morsels ; and whatever thing 
 
 The scythe of Time mows down, devour unspar'd, 
 
 Till I in man residing through the race, 
 
 His thoughts, his looks, words, actions all infect, 
 
 And season him thy last and sweetest prey. 
 
 This said, they both betook them several ways, 
 Both to destroy or unimmortal make 
 All kinds, and for destruction to mature 
 Sooner or later ; which th' Almighty seeing, 
 From his transcendent seat, the Saints among, 
 To those bright orders utter'd thus his voice : 
 
 See with what heat these dogs of hell advance 
 To waste and havoc yonder world, which I 
 So fair and good created, and had still 
 Kept in that state, had not the folly of man 
 Let in these wasteful furies, who impute 
 Folly to me, so doth the prince of hell 
 And his adherents, that with so much ease 
 I suffer them to enter and possess 
 A place so heav'nly, and conniving seem 
 To gratify my scornful enemies, 
 That laugh, as if transported with some fit 
 Of passion, I to them had quitted all, 
 At random yielded up to their misrule ; 
 And know not that I call'd and drew them thither 
 My hell hounds, to lick up the draff and filth 
 Which man's polluting sin with taint hath shed 
 On what was pure, till cramm'd and gorg'd nigh burst 
 With suck'd and glutted offal, at one sling 
 Of thy victorious arm, well-pieasing Son, 
 Both Sin and Death, and yawning grave at last 
 Through Chaos hurl'd obstruct the mouth of hell 
 For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws. 
 Then heav'n and earth renew'd shall be made pure 
 To sanctity that shall receive no stain ; 
 Till then the curse pronounc'd on both precedes. 
 
 He ended, and the heav'nly audience loud 
 Sung hallelujah, as the sound of seas. 
 Through multitude that sung : Just are thy ways, 
 
264 PARADISE LOST. [boOK X 
 
 Righteous are thy decrees on all thy works ; 
 
 Who can extenuate thee ? next to the Son, 
 
 Destin'd restorer of mankind, by whom 
 
 New Heav'n and Earth shall to ages rise, 
 
 Or down from heav'n descend. Such was their song". 
 
 While the Creator calling forth by name 
 
 His mighty angels gave them several charge, 
 
 As sorted best with present things. The sun 
 
 Had first his precept so to move, so shine, 
 
 As might effect the earth with cold and heat 
 
 Scarce tolerable, and from the north to call 
 
 Decrepit winter, from the south to bring 
 
 Solstitial summer's heat. To the blanc moon 
 
 Her office they prescrib'd, to th' other five 
 
 Their planetary motions and aspects, 
 
 In sextile, square, and trine, and opposite 
 
 Of noxious efficacy, and when to join 
 
 In synod unbenign ; and taught the fix'd 
 
 Their influence m.alignant when to shower, 
 
 Which of them rising with the sun, or falling. 
 
 Should prove tempestuous ; to the winds they set 
 
 Their corners, when with bluster to confound 
 
 Sea, air, and shore, the thunder when to roU 
 
 With terror through the dark aereal hall. 
 
 Some say he bid his angels turn askance 
 
 The poles of earth twice ten degrees and more 
 
 From the sun's axle ; they with labour push'd 
 
 Oblique the centric globe : some say the sun 
 
 Was bid turn reins from th' equinoctial road 
 
 Like distant breadth to Taurus with the seven 
 
 Atlantic Sisters, and the Spartan Twins 
 
 Up to the Tropic Crab ; thence down amain 
 
 By Leo and the Virgin and the Scales, 
 
 As deep as Capricorn, to bring in change 
 
 Of seasons to each clime ; else had the spring 
 
 Perpetual smil'd on earth with verdant flowers. 
 
 Equal in days and nights, except to those 
 
 Beyond the polar circles ; to them day 
 
 Had unbenighted shone, while the low sun 
 
BOOKX.] PARADISE LOST. 265 
 
 To recompense his distance, in their sight 
 
 Had rounded still the horizon, and not known 
 
 Or east or west, which had forbid the snow 
 
 From cold Estotiland, and south as far 
 
 Beneath Magellan. At that tasted fruit 
 
 The sun as from Thyestean banquet, turn'i 
 
 His course intended ; else how had the world 
 
 Inhabited though sinless, more than now, 
 
 Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat ? 
 
 These changes in the heav'ns, though slow, produc'd 
 
 Like change on sea and land, sideral blast, 
 
 Vajjour, and mist, and exhalation hot. 
 
 Corrupt and pestilent : now from the north 
 
 Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shore. 
 
 Bursting their brazen dungeon, arm'd with ice 
 
 And snow and hail and stormy gust and flaw, 
 
 Boreas and Caecias and Argestes loud 
 
 And Thrascias rend the woods and seas upturn ; 
 
 With adverse blast upturns them from the south 
 
 Notus and Afer black with thund'rous clouds 
 
 From Serraliona ; thwart of these as fierce 
 
 Forth rush the lev^ant and the ponent winds 
 
 Eur us and Zephyr with their lateral noise. 
 
 Sirocco and Libbecchio. Thus began 
 
 Outrage from lifeless things ; but Discord first 
 
 Daughter of Sin, among th' irrational, 
 
 Death introduc'd through fierce antipathy : 
 
 Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl, 
 
 And fish with fish : to graze the herb all leaving, 
 
 Devour'd each other ; nor stood much in awe 
 
 Of man, but fled him, or with count'nance grim 
 
 Glar'd on him passing. These were from without 
 
 The growing miseries, which Adam saw 
 
 Already in part, though hid in gloomiest shade, 
 
 To sorrow abandon 'd, but worse felt within, 
 
 And in a troubled sea of passion tost, 
 
 Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint : 
 
 O miserable of happy ! is this the end 
 Of -this new glorious world, and me so late 
 
266 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK X. 
 
 The glory of that glory, who now become 
 
 Accurs'd of blessed, hide me from the face 
 
 Of God, whom to behold was then my height 
 
 Of happiness ! yet well, if here would end 
 
 The misery : I deserv'd it, and would bear 
 
 My own deservings ; but this will not serve : 
 
 All that I eat or drink, or shall beget, 
 
 Is propagated curse. O voice once heard 
 
 Delightfully, Increase and midtiply, 
 
 Now death to hear ! for what can I increase 
 
 Or multiply, but curses on my head ? 
 
 Who of all ages to succeed, but feeling 
 
 The evil on him brought by me will curse 
 
 My head ? Ill fare our ancestor impure, 
 
 For this we may thank Adam ; but his thanks 
 
 Shall be the execration ; so besides 
 
 Mine own that bide upon me, all from me 
 
 Shall with a fierce reflux on me redound. 
 
 On me as on their natural centre light 
 
 Heavy, though in their place. O fleeting joys 
 
 Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes ! 
 
 Did I request thee Maker, from my clay 
 
 To mould me man, did I solicit thee 
 
 From darkness to promote me, or here place 
 
 In this delicious garden ? as my will 
 
 Concurr'd not to my being, it were but right 
 
 And equal to reduce me to my dust. 
 
 Desirous to resign and render back 
 
 All I receiv'd unable to perform 
 
 Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold 
 
 The good I sought not. To the loss of that, 
 
 Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added 
 
 The sense of endless woes ? inexplicable 
 
 Thy justice seems ; yet to say truth, too late 
 
 I thus contest ; then should have been refus'd 
 
 Those terms whatever, when they were propos'd 
 
 Thou didst accept them : wilt thou enjoy the good, 
 
 Then cavil the conditions ? and though God 
 
 Made thee without thy leave, what if ^hy son 
 
BOOK X.] PARADISE LOST. 267 
 
 Prove disobedient, and reprov'd, retort, 
 
 Wherefore didst thou beget me ? I sought it not : 
 
 Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee 
 
 That proud excuse ? yet him not thy election, 
 
 But natural necessity begot. 
 
 God made thee of choice his own, and of his own 
 
 To serve him ; thy reward was of his grace, 
 
 Thy punishment then justly is at his will. 
 
 Be it so, for I submit ; his doom is fair, 
 
 That dust I am, and shall to dust return. 
 
 O welcome hour whenever ! why delays 
 
 His hand to execute what his decree 
 
 Fix'd on this day ? why do I overlive. 
 
 Why am I mock'd with death, and lengthen'd out 
 
 To deathless pain ? how gladly would I meet 
 
 Blortality my sentence, and be earth 
 
 Insensible, how glad would lay me down 
 
 As in my mother's lap ? there I should rest 
 
 And sleep secure ; his dreadful voice no more 
 
 Would thunder in my ears, no fear of worse 
 
 To me and to my offspring would torment me 
 
 With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt, 
 
 Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die, 
 
 Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of man 
 
 Which God inspir'd, cannot together perish 
 
 With this corporeal clod ; then in the grave, 
 
 Or in some other dismal place, who knows 
 
 But shall I die a living death ; O thought 
 
 Horrid, if true ! yet why ? It was but breath 
 
 Of life that sinn'd ; what dies but what had life 
 
 And sin ? the body properly hath neither. 
 
 All of me then shall die : let this appease 
 
 The doubt, since human reach no further knows. 
 
 For though the Lord of all be infinite. 
 
 Is his wrath also ? be it, man is not so. 
 
 But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise 
 
 Wrath without end on man, whom death must end ? 
 
 Can he make deathless death ? that were to make 
 
 Strange contradictio,a, which to God himself 
 
268 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK X. 
 
 Impossible is held, as argument 
 Of weakness, not of pow'r. Will he draw out, 
 For anger's sake, finite to infinite 
 In punish'd man, to satisfy his rigour 
 Satisfy'd never ? that were to extend 
 His sentence beyond dust and nature's law, 
 By which all causes else according still 
 To the reception of their matter act, 
 Not io the extent of their own sphere. But say 
 That death be not one stroke, as I suppos'd, 
 Bereaving sense, but endless misery 
 From this day onward, which I feel begun 
 Both in me, and without me, and so last 
 To perpetuity ; ay me, that fear 
 Comes thund'ring back with dreadful revolution 
 On my defenceless head : both death and I 
 Am found eternal, and incorporate both, 
 Nor I on my part single, in me all 
 Posterity stands curs'd : fair patrimony 
 That I must leave ye, sons ; O were I able 
 To waste it all myself, and leave ye none ! 
 So disinherited how would ye bless 
 Me now your curse ! Ah, why should all mankind 
 For one man's fault thus guiltless be condemn'd. 
 If guiltless ? But from me what can proceed, 
 But all corrupt, both mind and will deprav'd, 
 Not to do only, but to will the same 
 With me ? how can they then acquitted stand 
 m sight of God ? Him after all disputes 
 Forc'd I absolve : all my evasions vain, 
 And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still 
 But to my own conviction : first and last 
 On me, me only, as ihe source and spring 
 Of all corruption, all the blame lights due ; 
 So might the wrath. Fond wish ! couldst thou sup- 
 port 
 That burden heavier than the earth to bear. 
 Than all the world much heavier, though divided 
 With that bad woman ? Thus what thou desir'st 
 
BOOK X.] PARADISE LOST. 269 
 
 And what thou fear'st, alike destroys all hope 
 Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable 
 Beyond all past example and future, 
 To Satan only like both crime and doom. 
 
 conscience, into what abyss of fears 
 
 And horrors hast thou driven me ; out of which 
 
 1 find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd ! 
 
 Thus Adam to himself lamented loud 
 Through the still night, not now, as ere man fell, 
 Wholesome and cool, and mild, but with black air 
 Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom, 
 Which to his evil conscience represented 
 All things with double terror : on the ground 
 Ouistretch'd he lay, on the cold ground, and oft 
 Curs'd his creation, death as oft accus'd 
 Of tardy execution, since denounc'd 
 The day of his offence. Why comes not death, 
 Said he, with one thrice acceptable stroke 
 To end me ? shall truth fail to keep her word, 
 Justice divine not hasten to be just ? 
 But death comes not at call, justice divine 
 Mends not her slowest pace for pray'rs or cries. 
 O woods, O fountains, hillocks, dales and bowers, 
 With other echo late I taught your shades 
 To answer, and resound far other song. 
 
 Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld, 
 Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh, 
 Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd : 
 But her with stern regard he thus repell'd : 
 
 Out of my sight, thou serpent ; that name best 
 Befits thee with him leagu'd, thyself as false 
 And hateful ; nothing wants, but that thy shape. 
 Like his, and colour serpentine may show 
 Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee 
 Henceforth ; lest that too heav'nly form, pretended 
 To heUish falsehood,=^ snare them. But for thee 
 
 ♦ " Pretended to hellish falsehood ;" pretended is used in the 
 Latin sense of held before. 
 
 23^ 
 
2V0 PAKADISfi LOST. [bOOK Z. 
 
 I had persisted Kappy, had not thy pride 
 And wand'ring vanity, when least was safe, 
 Rejected my forewarning, and disdained 
 IS'Ot to be trusted., longing to be seen 
 Though by the devil himself, him overweening 
 To over-reach, but with the serpent meeting, 
 Fool'd and beguil'd, by him thou, I by thee, 
 To trust thee from my side, imagin'd wise, 
 Constant, mature, proof against all assaults, 
 And understood not all was but a show, 
 Rather than solid virtue, all but a rib 
 Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, 
 More to the part sinister, ti:om me drawn, 
 Well if thrown out, as supernumerary 
 To my just number found. O why did God, 
 Creator wise, that peopled highest heav'n 
 With spirits masculine, create at last 
 This novelty on earth, this fair defect 
 Of nature, and not fill the world at once 
 With m.en as angels without feminine. 
 Or find some other way to generate 
 Mankind ? this mischief had not then befall 'n. 
 And more than shall befal, innumerable 
 Disturbances on earth through female snares, 
 And strait conjunction with this sex : for either 
 He never shall find out fit mate, but such 
 As some misfortune brings him. or mistake ; 
 Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain 
 Through her perverseness, but shall see her gain'd 
 By a far worse, or if she love, withheld 
 By parents : or his happiest choice too late 
 Shall meet, already link'd and wedlock-bound 
 To a fell adversary, 'his hate or shame : 
 Which infinite calamity shall cause 
 To human life, and household peace confound. 
 He added not, and from her turn'd; but Eve 
 Not so repuls'd, with tears that ceas'd not flowing, 
 And tresses all disorder'd, at his feet 
 
BOOKX.] PARADISE LOST. 271 
 
 Fell humble, and embracing them, besought 
 His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint. 
 
 Forsake me not thus, Adam, witness heav'n 
 What love sincere, and reverence in my heart 
 I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, 
 Unhappily deceiv'd ; thy suppliant 
 I beg, and clasp thy knees ; bereave me not, 
 Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, 
 Thy counsel in this uttermost distress. 
 My only strength and stay : forlorn of thee, 
 Whither shall I betake me, where subsist ? 
 While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, 
 Between us two let there be peace, both joining, 
 As join'd in injuries, one enmity 
 Against a foe by doom_ express assign'd us, 
 That cruel serpent : on me exercise not 
 Thy hatred for this misery befall'n. 
 On me already lost, me than thyself 
 More miserable ; both have sina'd, but thou 
 Against God only, I against God and thee, 
 And to the place of judgment will return. 
 There with my cries importune heav'n, that all 
 The sentence from, thy head remov'd may light 
 On me, sole cause to thee of all this wo, 
 Me, me only, just object of his ire. 
 
 She ended weeping, and her lowly plight, 
 Immoveable till peace obtained from fault 
 Acknowledg'd and deplor'd, in Adam wrought 
 Commiseration ; soon his heart relented 
 Towards her, his life so late and sole delight, 
 Now at his feet submissive in distress, 
 Creatures so fair his reconcilement seeking 
 His counsel, whom she had displeas'd, his aid; 
 As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost. 
 And thus with peaceful words uprais'd her soon. 
 
 Unwary, and too desirous, as before, 
 So now of what thou know'st not who desir'st 
 The punishment all on thyself; alas. 
 Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain 
 
272 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK X. 
 
 His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part, 
 
 And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If prayers 
 
 Could alter high decrees, I to that place 
 
 Would speed before thee, and be louder heard, 
 
 That on my head all might be visited, 
 
 Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven, 
 
 To me committed and by me expos 'd. 
 
 But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame 
 
 Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere, but strive 
 
 In offices of love, how we may lighten 
 
 Each other's burden, in our share of wo ; 
 
 Since this day's death denounc'd if ought I see, 
 
 Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac'd evil, 
 
 A long day's dying to augment our pain. 
 
 And to our seed (0 hapless seed !) deriv'd. 
 
 To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, reply'd: 
 Adam, by sad experiment I know 
 How little weight my words with thee can find. 
 Found so erroneous, theuce by just event 
 Found so unfortunate ; nevertheless, 
 Kestor'd by thee, vile as I am, to place 
 Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain 
 Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart 
 Living or dying, from thee I will not hide 
 What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen, 
 Tending to some relief of our extremes, 
 Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable. 
 As in our evils, and of easier choice. 
 If care of our descent perplex us most, 
 Which must be born to certain wo, devour'd 
 By death at last ; and miserable it is 
 To be to others cause of misery. 
 Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring 
 Into this cursed world a woful race. 
 That after wretched life must be at last 
 Food for so foul a monster ; in thy power 
 It lies, yet ere conception, to prevent 
 The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. 
 Childless thou art, childless remain : so Death 
 
BOOK X.] PARADISE LOST. 273 
 
 Shall be deceiv'd his glut, and with us two 
 Be forc'd to satisfy his ravenous maw. 
 But if thou judge it hard and difficult, 
 Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain 
 From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweet, 
 And with desire to languish without hope, 
 Before the present object languishing 
 With like desire, which would be misery 
 And torment less than none of what we dread : 
 Then both ourselves and seed at once to free 
 From what we fear for both, let us make short, 
 Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply 
 With our own hands his office on ourselves ; 
 Why stand we longer shivering under fears, 
 That show no end but death, and have the power, 
 Of many ways to die, the shortest choosing, 
 Destruction with destruction to destroy ? 
 
 She ended here, or vehement despair 
 Broke off the rest ; so much of death her thoughts 
 Had entertain'd, as dy'd her cheeks with pale. 
 But Adam with such counsel nothm'g sway'd. 
 To belter hopes his more attentive mind 
 Lab 'ring had rais'd, and thus to Eve reply 'd. 
 
 Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems 
 To argue in thee something more sublime 
 And excellent than what thy mind contemns; 
 But self-destruction therefore sought, refutes 
 That excellence thought in thee, and implies. 
 Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret 
 For loss of life, and pleasure overlov'd. 
 Or if thou covet death, as utmost end 
 3f misery, so thinking to evade 
 The penalty pronounc'd doubt not but God 
 Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire than so 
 To be forestall'd ; much more I fear lest death 
 So snatch'd will not exempt us from the pain 
 We are by doom to pay ; rather such acts 
 Of contumacy will provoke the Highest 
 To make death in us live ; then let us seek 
 
274 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK Z. 
 
 Some safer resolution, which methinks 
 I have in view, calling to mind with heed 
 Part of our sentence. That thy seed shall bruise 
 The serpent's head ; piteous amends, unless 
 He meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe 
 Satan, who in the serpent hath contriv'd 
 Against us this deceit ; to crush his head 
 Would be revenge indeed ; which will be lost 
 By death brought on ourselves, or childless days 
 Resolv'd as thou proposest : so our foe 
 Shall 'scape his punishment ordain'd, and we 
 Instead shall double ours upon our heads. 
 No more be mention'd then of violence 
 Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness, 
 That cuts us off from hope, and savours only 
 Rancour and pride, impatience and despite. 
 Reluctance against God and his jus-t yoke 
 Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild 
 And gracious temper he both heard and judg'd, 
 Without \vrath or reviling ; we expected 
 immediate dissolution, which we thought 
 Was meant by death that day, when lo, to thee 
 Pains only in child-bearing were foretold, 
 And bringing forth, soon recompens'd with joy, 
 Fruit of thy womb. On me the curse aslope 
 Glanc'd on the gro]^nd ; with labour I must earn 
 My bread ; what harm ? Idleness had been worse : 
 My labour will sustain me ; and lest cold 
 Or heat should injure us, his timely care 
 Hath unbesought provided, and his hands 
 Cloth'd us unworthy, pitying while he judg'd ; 
 How much more, if we pray him, will his ear 
 Be open, and his heart to pity incline, 
 And teach us further by what means to shun 
 Th' inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow 
 Which now the sky with various face begins 
 To show us in this mountain, while the winds 
 Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks 
 Of these far spreading trees ; which bids us seek 
 
BOOKX.] PARADISE LOST. 275 
 
 Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish 
 Our limbs Jbenumb'd, ere this diurnal star 
 Leave cold the night, how we his gather'd beams 
 Reflected, may with matter sere foment, 
 Or by collision of two bodies grind 
 The air attrite to fire, as late the clouds 
 Justling or push'd with winds rude in their shock 
 Tine the slant lightning,* whose thwart flame driv'n 
 
 down 
 Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine, 
 And sends a comfortable heat from far. 
 Which might supply the sun : such fire to uso, 
 And what may else be remedy or cure 
 To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, 
 He will instruct us praying, and of grace 
 Beseeching him, so as we need not fear 
 To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd 
 By him with many comforts, till we end 
 In dust, our final rest and native home. 
 What better can we do, than to the place 
 Repairing where he jug'd us, prostrate fall 
 Before him reverent, and there confess 
 Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears 
 Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air 
 Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
 Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek ? 
 Undoubtedly he will relent and turn 
 From his displeasure ; in whose look serene, 
 When angry most he seem'd, and most severe, 
 What else but favour, grace, and mercy shone ? 
 
 So spake our father penitent, nor Eve 
 Felt less remorse ; they forthwith to the place 
 Repairing where he judg'd them, prostrate fell 
 Before him reverent, and both confess'd 
 Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd with tears 
 
 ♦ Tine the slant lightning :'' an old wotI for kindle. 
 
276 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK X. 
 
 Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
 Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
 Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek. 
 
 END OF THE TENTH BOOK. 
 
THE 
 
 ELEVENTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Thk Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first pa- 
 rents now repenting, and intercedes for them : God accepts them : 
 but declares that they must no longer abide in Paradise ; sends 
 Michael with a band of cherubim to dispossess them ; but first 
 to reveal to Adam future things : Michael's coming down.— - 
 Adam shows to Eve certain ominous signs : he discerns Mi- 
 chael's approach, goes out to meet him : the angel denounces 
 their departure. Eve's lamentation. Adam pleadg, but submits : 
 the angel leads him up to a high hill, sets before him in vision 
 what shall happen till the flood. 
 
PARADISE LOST 
 
 BOOK XI. 
 
 Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood 
 
 Praying", for from the mercy-seat above, 
 
 Prevenient grace descending had remov'd 
 
 The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh 
 
 Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breath'd 
 
 Unutterable, which the spirit of pray'r 
 
 Inspir'd, and wing'd for heav'n with speedier flight 
 
 Than loudest oratory : yet their port 
 
 Not of mean suitors, nor important less 
 
 Seem'd their petition, than when the ancient pair 
 
 In fables old, less ancient yet than these, 
 
 Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore 
 
 The race of mankind drown'd, before the shrine 
 
 Of Themis stood devout. To heav'n their prayers 
 
 Flew up, nor miss'd the way, by envious winds 
 
 Blown vagabond or frustrate : in they pass'd 
 
 Dimensionless through heav'nly doors ; then clad 
 
 With incense, where the golden altar fum'd, 
 
 By their great intercessor, came in sight 
 
 Before the Father's throne : them the glad Son 
 
 Presenting, thus to intercede began : 
 
 See, Father, what first fruits on earth are sprung 
 From thy implanted grace in man, these sighs 
 And pray'rs, which in this golden censer, mix'd 
 With incense, I thy priest before thee bring, 
 
2S0 PARADISE LOST. [boOK XI 
 
 Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed 
 
 Sown with contrition in his heart, than those 
 
 Which his own hand manuring all the trees 
 
 Of Paradise could have produc'd, ere fall'n 
 
 From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear 
 
 To supplication, hear his sighs though mute; 
 
 Unskilful with what words to pray, let me 
 
 Interpret for him, me his advocate 
 
 And propitiation ; all his works on me 
 
 Good or not good ingraft, my merit those 
 
 Shall perfect, and for those my death shall pay, 
 
 Accept me, and in me from these receive 
 
 The smell of peace toward mankind; let him live 
 
 Before ihee reconcil'd, at least his days 
 
 Number'd, though sad, till death, his doom (which I 
 
 To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse,) 
 
 To better life shall yield him where with me 
 
 All my redeem'd may dwell in joy and bliss, 
 
 Made one with me as I with thee am one. 
 
 To whom the Father, without cloud, serene : 
 All thy request for man, accepted Son, 
 Obtain ; all thy request v/as my decree : 
 But longer in that Paradise to dwell, 
 The law I gave to nature him forbids : 
 Those pure immortal elements that know 
 No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul, 
 Eject him tainted now, and purge him oft' 
 As a distemper, gross to air as gross, 
 - And mortal food, as may dispose him best 
 For dissolution wrought by sin, that first 
 Distemper'd all things, and of incorrupt 
 Corrupted. I at first v\^ith two fair gifts 
 Created him, endow'd with happiness 
 And immortality : that fondly lost, 
 This other serv'd but to eternize wo ; 
 Till I provided death ; so death becomes 
 His final remedy, and after life 
 Try'd in sharp tribulation, and refin'd 
 By faith and faithful works, to second life, 
 Wak'd in the renovation of the just, 
 
BOOK XI. I PARADISE LOST. 281 
 
 Resigns him up with heav'n and earth renew'd. 
 
 But let us call to synod all the blest 
 
 Through heav'n 's wide bounds ; from them I will not 
 
 hide 
 My judgments, how with mankind I proceed, 
 As how v/ith peccant angels late they saw. 
 And in their state, though firm, stood more confirm'd. 
 
 He ended, and the Son gave signal high 
 To the bright minister that watch 'd ; he blew 
 His trumpet, heard in Oreb since, perhaps 
 When God descended, and perhaps once more 
 To sound at general doom. Th' angelic blast 
 Fill'd all the regions : from their blissful bowers 
 Of amaranthine shade, fountain or spring, 
 By the waters of life, where'er they sat 
 In fellowships of joy, the sons of light 
 Hasted, resorting to the summons high, 
 And took their seats ; till from his throne supreme 
 Th' Almighty thus pronounc'd his sov'reign will : 
 
 O sons, like one of us man is become 
 To know both good and evil, since his taste 
 Of that defended fruit ; but let him boast 
 His knowledge of good lost, and evil got, 
 Happier, had it suffic'd him to have known 
 Good by itself, and evil not at all. 
 He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite, 
 My motions in him ; longer than they move, 
 His heart I know, how variable and vain 
 Self-left. Lest therefore his now bolder hand 
 Reach also of the tree of life, and eat, 
 And live for ever, dream at least to live 
 For ever, to remove him I decree, 
 And send him from the garden forth to till 
 The ground whence he was taken, fitter soil. 
 
 Michael, this my behest have thou in charge, 
 Take to thee from among the cherubim 
 Thy choice of flamrng warriors, lest the fiend, 
 Or in behalf of man, or to invade 
 Vacant possession, some new trouble raise : 
 24* 
 
282 PARADISE LOST. [boOK XI. 
 
 Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God 
 
 Without remorse drive out the sinful pair 
 
 From hallow'd ground th' unholy, and denounce 
 
 To them and to their progeny from thence 
 
 Perpetual banishment. Yet lest they faint 
 
 At the sad sentence rigorously urg'd. 
 
 For I behold them soften'd, and with tears 
 
 Bewailing their excess, all terror hide. 
 
 If patiently thy bidding they obey, 
 
 Dismiss them not disconsolate ; reveal 
 
 To Adam what shall come in future days, 
 
 As I shall thee enlighten; intermix 
 
 My covenant in the woman's seed renew'd;^ 
 
 So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace * 
 
 And on the east side of the garden place. 
 
 Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs, 
 
 Cherubic watch, and of a sword the flame 
 
 Wide-waving, all approach far off to fright, 
 
 And guard all passage to the tree of life : 
 
 Lest Paradise a receptacle prove 
 
 To spirits foal, and all my trees their prey. 
 
 With whose stol'n fruit man once more to delude 
 
 He ceas'd ; and th' archangelic pow'r prepar'd 
 For swift descent, with him the cohort bright 
 Of watchful cherubim : four faces each 
 Had, like a double Janus, all their shape 
 Spangled with eyes, more numerous than those 
 Of Argus, and more wakeful than to drowse. 
 Charm'd with Arcadian pipe, the past'ral reed 
 Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Meanr/hile 
 To re-salute the world with sacred light 
 Leucothea wak'd, and with fresh dews embalm 'd 
 The earth, when Adam and first matron Eve 
 Had ended now their orisons, and found 
 Strength added from above, new hope to spring 
 Out of despair, joy, but with fear yet link'd ; 
 Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd : 
 
 Eve, easily may faith admit, that all 
 The good which we en lay, from heav'n descends ; 
 
BOOK XI.] PARADISE LOST. 283 
 
 But that from us aught should ascend to heav'n 
 So prevalent as to concern the mind 
 Of God, high-blest, or to incline his will, 
 Hard to belief may seem ; yet this will prayer, 
 Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne 
 Ev'n to the seat of God. For since I sought 
 By pray'r th' offended Deity, t' appease, 
 Kneel'd and before him humbled all my heart, 
 Methought I saw him placable and mild. 
 Bending his ear ; persuasion in me grew 
 That I was heard with favour ; peace return'd 
 Home to my breast, and to my memory 
 His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe : 
 Which then not minded in dismay, yet now 
 Assures me that the bitterness of death 
 Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee. 
 Eve rightly call'd mother of all mankind, 
 Mother of all things living, since by thee 
 Man is to live, and all things live for man. 
 
 To whom thus Eve with sad demeanour meek : 
 III worthy I such title should belong- 
 To me transgressor, who for thee ordain 'd 
 A help, became thy snare ; to me reproach 
 Rather belongs, distrust and all dispraise: 
 But infinite in pardon was my Judge, 
 That I who first brought death on all, am grac'd 
 The source of life ; next favourable thou, 
 Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf'st, 
 Far other namxC deserving. But the field 
 To labour calls us now with sweat impos'd. 
 Though after sleepless night ; for see the morn, 
 All unconcerned with our unrest, begins 
 Her rosy progress smiling ; let us forth, 
 I never from thy side henceforth to stray, 
 Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoin'd 
 Laborious, till day droop ; while here we dwell, 
 What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks ? 
 Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content. 
 
 i 
 
284 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK XI. 
 
 So spake, so wish'd much humbled Eve, but fa*« 
 Subscrib'd not; Nature first gave signs, impress'd 
 On bird, beast, air, air suddenly eclips'd 
 After short blush of morn ; nigh in her sight 
 The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his airy tour. 
 Two birds of gayest plume before him drove : 
 Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, 
 First hunter then, pursu'd a gentle brace, 
 Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind ; 
 Direct to th' eastern gate was bent their flight. 
 Adam observ'd, and with his eye the chace 
 Pursuing, not unmov'd to Eve thus spake : 
 
 O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh, 
 Which heav'n by these mute signs in nature shows, 
 Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn 
 Us haply too secure of our discharge 
 From penalty, because from death releas'd 
 Some days ; how long, and what till then our life, 
 Who knows, or more than this, that we are dust, 
 And thither must return and be no more ? 
 Vfhy else this double object in our sight 
 Of flight pursu'd in th' air, and o'er the ground, 
 One way the self-same hour ? why in the east 
 Darkness ere day's mid course, and morning light 
 More orient in yon western cloud, that draws 
 O'er the blue firmament a radiant white. 
 And slow descends, with something heav'nly fraught * 
 
 He err'd not, for by this the heav'nly bands 
 Down from a sky of jasper lighted now 
 In Paradise, and on a hill made halt, 
 A glorious apparition, had not doubt 
 And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adam's eye. 
 Not that more glorious, when the angels met 
 Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw 
 The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright » 
 Nor that which on the flaming mount appear'd 
 In Dothan, cover'd with a camp of fire. 
 Against the Syrian king, who to surprise 
 One man, assassin like, had levied war, 
 
BOOK XI.] PARADISE LOST. 285 
 
 War vinproclaim'd. The princely hierach 
 In their bright stand there left his pow'rs to seize 
 Possession of the garden ; he alone, 
 To find where Adam shelter 'd took his way, 
 Not unperceiv'd of Adam, who to Eve, 
 While the great visitant approach'd, thus spake : 
 Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps 
 Of us will soon determine, or impose 
 New laws to be observ'd ; for I descry 
 From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hills, 
 One of the heav'nly host, and by his gait 
 None of the meanest, some great potentate, 
 Or of the thrones above, such majesty 
 Invests him coming; yet not terrible, 
 That I should fear, nor sociably mild, 
 As Raphael, that I should much confide, 
 But solemn and sublime, whom not t' offend, 
 With reverence I must meet, and thou retire. 
 
 He ended ; and th' archangel soon drew nigh, 
 Not in his shape celestial, but as man 
 Clad to meet man ; over his lucid arms 
 A military vest of purple flow'd. 
 Livelier than Melibcean, or the grain 
 Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old. 
 In time of truce ; Iris had dipt the woof; 
 His starry helm unbuckled show'd him prime 
 In manhood where youth ended ; by his side 
 As in a glist'ring zodiac hung the sword, 
 Satan's dire dread, and in his hand the spear. 
 Adam bow'd low ; he kingly from his state 
 Inclin'd not, but his coming thus declar'd : 
 
 Adam, heav'n's high behest no preface noeda 
 Suflicient that thy pray'rs are heard, and iJe.'iTf, 
 Then due by sentence when thou didst transgre3S> 
 Defeated of his seizure, many days 
 Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou mayst repent, 
 And one bad act, with many deeds well done, 
 Mayst cover : well may then thy Lord appeas'd. 
 Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim ; 
 
286 fARADlSE LOST. fflOOK XI. 
 
 But longer in this Paradise to dwell 
 Permits not ; to remove thee I am come, 
 And send thee from the garden forth to till 
 The ground whence thou wast taken, fitter soil. 
 
 He added not, for Adam at the news 
 Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood, 
 That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen 
 Yet all had heard, with audible lament 
 Discovered soon the place of her retire. 
 
 O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death ! 
 Must I thus leave thee, Paradise ? thus leave 
 Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, 
 Fit haunt of gods ? where I had hope to spend, 
 Quiet though sad, the respite of that day 
 That must be mortal to us both. O flowers. 
 That never will in other climate grow, 
 My early visitation, and my last 
 At even, which I bred up with tender hand 
 From the first opening bud, and gave ye names, 
 Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
 Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount ? 
 Thee lastly, nuptial bow'r, by me adorn'd 
 With what to sight or smell was sweet, from thee 
 How shall I part, and whither wander down 
 Into a lower world, to this obscure 
 And wild ? how shall we breathe in other air 
 Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits ? 
 
 Whom thus the angel interrupted mild : 
 Lament not. Eve, but patiently resign 
 What justly thou hast lost ; nor set thy heart, 
 Thus over fond, on that which is not thine ; 
 Thy going is not lonely ; with thee goes 
 Thy husband ; him to follow thou art bound ; 
 Where he abides, think there thy native soil. 
 
 Adam by this, from the cold sudden danip 
 Recovering, and his scatter'd spirits return'd, 
 To Michael thus his humble words address'd: 
 Celestial, whether among the thrones, or nam'd 
 Of them the highest, for such of shape may seem 
 
BOOK XI. J PARiDISE LOST. 287 
 
 Prince above princes, gently hast thou told 
 
 Thy message, which might else in telling wound, 
 
 And in performing end us ; what besides 
 
 Of sorrow and dejection, and despair 
 
 Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring, 
 
 Departure from this happy place our sweet 
 
 Recess, and only consolation left 
 
 Familiar to our eyes, all places else 
 
 Inhospitable appear, and desolate, 
 
 For knowing us nor known : and if by prayer 
 
 Incessant I could hope to change the will 
 
 Of him who all things can, I would not cease 
 
 To weary him with my assiduous cries : 
 
 But pray'r against his absolute decree. 
 
 No more avails than breath against the wind, 
 
 Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth : 
 
 Therefore to his great bidding I submit. 
 
 This most afflicts me, that departing hence, 
 
 As from his face I shall be hid, depriv'd 
 
 His blessed count'nance ; here I could frequent 
 
 With worship place by place where he vouchsaf 'd 
 
 Presence divine, and to my sons relate. 
 
 On this mount he appear 'd, under this tree 
 
 Stood visible, among these pines his voice 
 
 I heard, here with him at this fountain talk'd ; 
 
 So many grateful altars I would rear 
 
 Of grassy turf, and pile up every stone 
 
 Of lustre from the brook, in memory, 
 
 Or monument to ages, and thereon 
 
 Ofler sweet smelling gums and fruits and flowers ; 
 
 In yonder nether world where shall I seek 
 
 His bright appearances, or foot-step trace ? 
 
 For though I fled him angry, yet recall'd 
 
 To life prolong'd, and promis'd race, I now 
 
 Gladly behold, though but his utmost skirts 
 
 Of glory, and far off' his steps adore. 
 
 To whom thus Michael with regard benign : 
 Adam, thou know'st heav'n his, and all the earth, 
 Not this rock only ; his omnipresence fills 
 
288 PAKADISE LOST. [bOOK XI. 
 
 Land, sea, and air, and every kind that lives, 
 
 Fomented by his virtual pow'r, and warm'd : 
 
 All th' earth he gave thee to possess and rule, 
 
 No despicable gift ; surmise not then 
 
 His presence to these narrow bounds confin'd, 
 
 Of Paradise or Eden ; this had been 
 
 Perhaps thy capital seat, from whence had spread 
 
 All generations, and had hither come 
 
 From all the ends of th' earth, to celebrate 
 
 And reverence thee their great progenitor. 
 
 But this pre-eminence thou hast lost, brought down 
 
 To dwell on even ground now with thy sons : 
 
 Yet doubt not but in valley and in plain 
 
 God is as here, and will be found alike 
 
 Present, and of his presence many a sign 
 
 Still following thee, still compassing thee round 
 
 With goodness and paternal love, his face 
 
 Express, and of his steps the track divine. 
 
 Which that thou mayst believe, and be conflrm'd 
 
 ^re thou from hence depart, know I am sent 
 
 To show thee what shall come in future days 
 
 To thee and to thy offspring; good with bad 
 
 Expect to hear, supernal grace contending 
 
 With sinfulness of men ; thereby to learn 
 
 True patience, and to temper joy with fear 
 
 And pious sorrow, equally inur'd 
 
 By moderation either state to bear, 
 
 Prosperous or adverse ; so shalt thou lead 
 
 Safest thy life, and best prepar'd endure 
 
 Thy mortal passage when it comes Ascend 
 
 This hill ; let Eve (for I have drench'd her eyes) 
 
 Here sleep below, while thou to foresight wak'st ; 
 
 As once thou slept'st, while she to life was form*d. 
 
 To whom thus Adam gratefully reply'd : 
 Ascend, I follow thee, safe guide, the path 
 Thou lead'st me, and to the hand of heav'n submit, 
 However chast'ning, to the evil turn 
 My obvious breast, arming to overcome 
 By suffering, and earn rest from labour won, 
 
BOOK XI.J PARADISE LOST. 289 
 
 If SO I may attain. So both ascend 
 
 In the visions of God : it was a hill 
 
 Of Paradise the highest, from whose top 
 
 The hemisphere of earth in clearest ken 
 
 Stretch'd out to th' amplest reach of prospect lay. 
 
 Not higher that hill nor wider looking round, 
 
 Whereon for different cause the tempter set 
 
 Our second Adam in the wilderness, 
 
 To show him all earth's kingdoms and their glory. 
 
 His eye might there command wherever stood 
 
 City of old or modern fame, the seat 
 
 Of mightiest empire, from the destin'd walls 
 
 Of Cambalu, seat of Cathaian Can, 
 
 And Samarchand by Oxus, Temir's throne, 
 
 To Paquin of Sinsean kings, and thence 
 
 To Agra and Labor of great Mogul 
 
 Down to the golden Chersonese, or where 
 
 The Persian in Ecbatan sat, or since 
 
 In Hispahan, or where the Russian czar 
 
 In Moscow, or the sultan in Bizance, 
 
 Turchestan-born ; nor could his eye not ken 
 
 Th' empire of Negus to his utmost port 
 
 Ercocco, and the less maratime kings, 
 
 Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind, 
 
 And Sofala, thought Ophir, to the realm 
 
 Of Congo, and Angola farthest south ; 
 
 Or thence from Niger flood to Atlas mount, 
 
 The kingdoms of Almansor, Fez and Sus, 
 
 Morocco and Algiers, and Tremisen ; 
 
 On Europe thence, and where Rome was to sway 
 
 The world ; in spirit perhaps he also saw 
 
 Rich Mexico, the seat of Montezuma, 
 
 And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat 
 
 Of Atabalipa, and yet unspoil'd 
 
 Guiana, whose great city Gerj'-on's sons 
 
 Call El Dorado : but to nobler sights 
 
 Michael from Adam's eyes the film remov'd, 
 
 Which that false fruit, that promis'd clearer sight, 
 
 Had bred ; then purg'd with euphrasy and ru§ 
 
SSiOf fARADISE LOST, [bOOK XI. 
 
 The visual nerve, for he had much to see ; 
 And from the well of life three drops instill'd. 
 So deep the pow'r of these ingredients pierc'd, 
 Ev'n to the inmost seat of mental sight, 
 That Adam now enforc'd to close his eyes, 
 Sunk down, and all his spirits became entranc'd ; 
 But him the gentle angel by the hand 
 Soon rais'd, and his attention thus recall'd: 
 
 Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold 
 Th' effects which thy original crime hath wrought 
 In some to spring from thee, who never touch'd 
 Th' excepted tree, nor with the snake conspir'd, 
 Nor sinn'd thy sin, yet from that sin derive 
 Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds. 
 
 His eyes he open'd, and beheld a field, 
 Part arable and tilth, whereon were sheaves 
 New reap'd, the other part sheep-walks and folds , 
 r th' midst an altar as the land-mark stood, 
 Rustic, of grassy sord ; thither anon 
 A sweaty reaper from his tillage brought 
 First fruits, the green ear, and the yellow sheaf 
 Uncull'd as came to hand ; a shepherd next 
 More meek came with the firstlings of his flock 
 Choicest and best ; then sacrificing, laid 
 The inwards and their fat, with incense strow'd, 
 On the cleft wood, and all due rites perform'd. 
 His offering soon propitious fire from heav'n 
 Consum'd with nimble glance, and grateful stream ; 
 The other's not, for his was not sincere ; 
 "Whereat he inly rag'd, and as they talk'd, 
 Smote him ipto the midrift with a stone 
 That beat out life ; he fell, and deadly pale 
 Groan'd out his soul with gushing blood efTus'd. 
 Much at that sight was Adam in his heart 
 Dismay'd, and thus in haste to th' angel cry'd : 
 
 teacher, some great mischief hath befall'n 
 To that meek man, who well had sacrific'd : 
 Is piety thus and pure devotion paid? 
 
BOOK XI.] PARADISE LOST. 291 
 
 T' whom Michael thus, he also mov^d reply 'd: 
 These two are brethren, Adam, and to come 
 Out of thy loins ; th' unjust the just hath slain, 
 For envy that his brother's offering found 
 From heav'n, acceptance ; but the bloody fact 
 Will be aveng'd, and the other's faith approv'd 
 Lose no rewards; though here thou see him die, 
 Kolling in dust and gore. To which our sire : 
 
 Alas ! both for the deed, and for the cause ! 
 But have I now seen Death ? Is this the way 
 I must return to native dust ? O sight 
 Of terror, foul and ugly to behoH, 
 Horrid to think, how horrible to feel ! 
 
 To whom thus Michael : Death thou hast seen 
 In his first shape on man ; but many shapes 
 Of Death, and many are the ways that lead 
 To his grim cave, all dismal ; yet to sense 
 More terrible at th' entrance than ivithin. 
 Some as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die, 
 By fire, flood, famine ; by intemp'rance more 
 In meats and drinks, which on the earth shall bring 
 Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew 
 Before thee shall appear ; that thou mayst know 
 What misery th' inabstinence of Eve 
 Shall bring on men. Immediately a place 
 Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark, 
 A lazar-house it seem'd, wherein were laid 
 Numbers of all diseas'd, all maladies, 
 Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms, 
 Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds, 
 Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, 
 Intestine stone and ulcer, colick-pangs, 
 Demoniac phrenzy, moping melancholy. 
 And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, 
 Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, 
 Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rhuems. 
 Dire was the tossing, deep the groans ; Despair 
 Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch; 
 And over them triumphant Death his dart 
 
292 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK XI. 
 
 Shook, but delay'd to strike, though oft invok'd 
 With vows, as their chief good, and final hope. 
 Sight so deform what heart of rock could long 
 Dry-ey'd behold ? Adam could not, but wept, 
 Though not of woman born : compassion quelPd 
 His best of man, and gave him up to tears 
 A space, till firmer thoughts restrain'd excess ; 
 And scarce recovering words his plaint renew'd : 
 
 miserable mankind, to what fall 
 Degraded, to what wretched state reserv'd? 
 Better end here unborn. Why is life given 
 To be thus wrested from us ? rather why 
 Obtruded on us thus ? who if we knew 
 What we receive, would either not accept 
 Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down, 
 Glad to be so dismiss'd in peace. Can thus 
 Th' image of God in man created once 
 
 So goodly and erect, though faulty since, 
 
 To such unsightly sufferings be debas'd 
 
 tinder inhuman pains ? Why should not maUi 
 
 Retaining still divine similitude 
 
 In part, from such deformities be free, 
 
 And for his Maker's image sake exempt ? 
 
 Their Maker's image, answer'd Michael, then 
 Forsook them, when themselves they vilify'd 
 To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took 
 His image whom they serv'd, a brutish vice, 
 Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve. 
 Therefore so abject is their punishment. 
 Disfiguring not God's likeness, but their own, 
 Or if his likeness, by themselves defac'd. 
 While they pervert pure nature's healthful rules 
 To loathsome sickness, worthily, since they 
 God's image did not reverence in themselves. 
 
 1 yield it just, said Adam, and submit. 
 But is there yet no other way, besides 
 These painful passages how we may come 
 To death, and mix with our connatural dust ? 
 
eOOKXl] PJLRADISE LOST. 293 
 
 There is, said Michael, if thou well observe 
 The rule of not too much, by temp 'ranee taught, 
 In what thou eat'st and drink'st, seeking from thence 
 Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, 
 Till many years over thy head return : 
 So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop 
 Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease 
 Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, for death mature : 
 This is old age : but then thou must -outlive 
 Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, whieh wiH 
 
 change 
 To wither'd, weak and grey : thy senses then 
 Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forego, 
 To what thou hast ; and for the air of youth, 
 Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign 
 A melancholy damp of cold aTid dry 
 To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume 
 The balm of life. To whom our ancestor : 
 
 Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong 
 Life much, bent rather how I may be quit 
 Fairest and easiest of this cumbrous charge, 
 Which I must keep till my appointed day 
 Of rend'ring up, and patiently attend 
 My dissolution. Michael reply'd : 
 Nor love thy life, nor hate ; but what thou iiv'st 
 Live well, how long or short permit to heav'n : 
 And now prepare thee for another sight. 
 
 He look'd, and saw a spacious plain, whereon 
 Were tents of various hue ; by some were herds 
 Of cattle grazing : others, whence the sound 
 Of instruments that made melodious chime 
 Was heard, of harp and organ ; and who mov'd 
 Their stops and chords was seen ; his volant touch 
 Instinct through all proportions low and high, 
 Fled and pursu'd transverse the resonant fugue. 
 In other part stood one who at the forge 
 Lab'ring two massy clods of iron and brass 
 Had melted, (whether found where casual fire 
 Had wasted woods on mountain, or in vale, 
 
294 PARADISE LOST. [boOK XL 
 
 Down to tlie veins of enrth, thence gliding hot 
 
 To some en vo's mouth, or whether wash'd hy stream 
 
 From un lev ground,) t lie liquid ore he drain'd 
 
 Into fit iijoulds preparM ; from which he form'd 
 
 First lii« own tools; tljen, what might else be wrough 
 
 Fusil Of grav'n in melal. After these, 
 
 But on the hither sido, a different sort 
 
 From the high neighb'ring hills, which was their seat, 
 
 Down to the plain descending : by their guise 
 
 Just men they seem'd, and all their study bent 
 
 To worship God aright, and know his works 
 
 Not hid, nor those things last which might preserve 
 
 Freedom and peace to men ; they on the plain 
 
 Long had not walk'd, when from the tents behold 
 
 A bevy of fair women, richly gay 
 
 In gems and wanton dress ; to th' harp they sung 
 
 Soft amorous ditties, and in diance came on ; 
 
 The men though grave, ey'd them, and let their eyes 
 
 Eove without rein, till in the amorous net 
 
 Fast caught, they lik'd, and each his liking chose ; 
 
 And now of love they treat, till th' evning star, 
 
 Love's harbinger, appear'd ; then all in heat 
 
 They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke 
 
 Hymen, then first to marriage rites invok'di 
 
 With feast and music all the tents resound. 
 
 Such happy interview and fair event 
 
 Of love and youth not lost, songs, garlands, flow'irs, 
 
 And charming symphonies attach'd the heart, 
 
 Of Adam, soon inclin'd t' admit delight. 
 
 The bent of nature ; which he thus express'd : 
 
 True opener of mine eyes, prime angel blest, 
 Much better seems this vision, and more hope 
 Of peaceful days portends, than those two past ; 
 Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse, 
 Here nature seems fulfill'd in all her ends. 
 
 To whom thus Michael : Judge not what is best 
 By pleasure, though to nature seeming meet, 
 Created, as thou art, to nobler end 
 Holy and pure, conformity divine* 
 
BOOK XI.] PARADISE LOST. 295 
 
 Those tents thou saw'st so pleasant, were the tents 
 
 Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his race 
 
 Who slew his brother ; studious they appear 
 
 Of arts that polish life, inventors rare, 
 
 Unmindful of their Maker, though his spirit 
 
 Taught them, but they his gifts acknowledg'd none ; 
 
 Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget ; 
 
 For that fair female troop thou saws't, that seem'd 
 
 Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 
 
 Yet empty of all good wherein consists 
 
 Woman's domestic honour and chief praise ; 
 
 Bred only and completed to the taste 
 
 Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance. 
 
 To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye. 
 
 To these that sober race of men, whose lives 
 
 Religious titled them the sons of God, 
 
 Shall yield up all their virtue, all their fame 
 
 Ignobly, to the trains and" to the smiles 
 
 Of these fair atheists, and now swim in joy, 
 
 Ere long to swim at large ; and laugh, for which 
 
 The world ere long a world of tears must weep. 
 
 To whom thus Adam of short joy bereft : 
 O pity and shame, that they who to live well 
 Enter'd so fair should turn aside to tread, 
 Paths indirect, or in the mid way faint ! 
 But still I see the tenor of man's wo 
 Holds on the same, from woman to begin. 
 
 From man's effeminate slackness it begins, 
 Said the angel, who should better hold his place 
 By wisdom, and superior gifts receiv'd. 
 But now prepare thee for another scene. 
 
 He look'd, and saw wide territory spread 
 Before him, towns, and rural works between, 
 Cities of men with lofty gates and tow'rs, 
 Concourse in arms, fierce faces threat'ning war, 
 Giants of mighty bone, and bold emprise ; 
 Part weild their arms, part curb the foaming steeiii 
 Single, or in array of battle rang'd 
 Both horse and foot, nor idly must'ring stoo-il 
 
296 PARADISE LOST. [boOK XI 
 
 One way a band select from forage drives 
 
 A herd of beeves, fair oxen and fair kine 
 
 From a fat meadow ground ; or fleecy flock, 
 
 Ewes and their bleating lambs over the plain, 
 
 Their booty ; scarce with life the shepherds fly, 
 
 But call in aid, which makes a bloody fray : 
 
 With cruel tournament the squadrons join ; 
 
 Where cattle pastur'd late, now scatter'd lies 
 
 With carcasses and arms th' ensanguin'd field 
 
 Deserted : others to a city strong 
 
 Lay siege, encamp'd ; by battery, scale, and mine, 
 
 Assaulting ; others from the wall defend 
 
 With dart and javelin, stones and sulphurous fire; 
 
 On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds. 
 
 In other part the sceptred heralds call 
 
 To council in the city gates : anon 
 
 Grey-headed men and grave, with warriors mix'd, 
 
 Assemble, and harangues are heard, but soon 
 
 In factious opposition, till at last 
 
 Of middle age one rising, eminent 
 
 In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong, 
 
 Of justice, of religion, truth and peace. 
 
 And judgment from above : him old and young 
 
 Exploded and had seiz'd with violent hands, 
 
 Had not a cloud descending snatch'd him thence 
 
 Unseen amid the throng : so violence 
 
 Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law 
 
 Through all the plain, and refuge none was found. 
 
 Adam was all in tears, and to his guide 
 
 Lamenting turn'd full sad : what are these, 
 
 Death's ministers, not men, who thus deal death 
 
 Inhumanly to men, and multiply 
 
 Ten thousand fold the sin of him who slew 
 
 His brother ; for of whom such massacre 
 
 Make they but of their brethren, men of men ? 
 
 But who was that just man, whom had not heav*n 
 
 Rescued, had in his righteousness been lost? 
 
 To whom thus Michael ; These are the product 
 Of those ill-mated marriages thou saw'stj 
 
BOOK XI.] PARADISE LOST. 297 
 
 Where good with bad were match'd, who of them- 
 selves 
 Abhor to join ; and by imprudence mix'd, 
 Produce prodigious births of body or mind. 
 Such were these giants, men of high renown ; 
 For in those days might only shall be admir'd, 
 And valour and heroic virtue call'd; 
 To overcome in battle, and subdue 
 Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite 
 Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch 
 Of human glory, and for glory done 
 Of triumph, to be stil'd great conquerors, 
 Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods, 
 Destroyers rightlier call'd and plagues of men. 
 Thus fame shall be achiev'd, renown on earth, 
 And what most merits fame in silence hid. 
 But he the sev'nth from thee, whom thou beheldst 
 The only righteous in a world perverse, 
 And therefore hated, therefore so beset 
 "With foes for daring single to be just, 
 And utter odious truth, that God would come 
 To judge them with his saints : him the most 
 Rapt in a balmy cloud with winged steeds 
 Did, as thou saw'st, receive, to walk with God 
 High in salvation and the climes of bliss, 
 Exempt from death ; to show thee what reward 
 Awaits the good, the rest what punishment ; 
 Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold. 
 
 He look'd, and saw the face of things quite changed ; 
 The brazen throat of war had ceas'd to roar ; 
 All now was turn'd to jollity and game, 
 To luxury and riot, feast and dance, 
 Marrying or prostituting, as befel, 
 Rape or adultry, where passing fair 
 Allur'd them ; thence from cups to civil broils. 
 At length a reverend sire among them came, 
 And of their doings great dislike declar'd, 
 And testify'd against their ways ; he oft 
 Frequented their assemblies, whereso met, 
 
298 PARADISE LOST. [bOOZ XI 
 
 Triumphs or festivals, and to tliem preach'd 
 
 Conversion and repentance, as to souls 
 
 In prison under judgments imminent : 
 
 But all in vain : which when he saw, he ceas'd 
 
 Contending, and remov'd his tents far off; 
 
 Then from the mountain hewing timber tall, 
 
 Began to build a vessel of huge bulk, 
 
 Measur'd by cubit, length, and breadth, and height, 
 
 Smear'd round with pitch, and in the side a door 
 
 Contriv'd, and of provisions laid in, large 
 
 For man and beast : when lo a wonder strange ! 
 
 Of every beast, and bird, and insect small 
 
 Came sev'ns, and pairs, and enter'd in, as taught 
 
 Their order : last the sire, and his three sons 
 
 With their four wives ; and God made fast the do^r. 
 
 Meanwhile the south wind rose, and with black wi gs 
 
 Wide hovering, all the clouds together drove 
 
 From under heav'n ; the hills to their supply 
 
 Vapour, and exhalation dusk and moist. 
 
 Sent up amain ; and now the thicken'd sky 
 
 Like a dark ceiling stood ; down rush'd the rain 
 
 Impetuous, and continued till the earth 
 
 No more was seen ; the floating vessel swum 
 
 Uplifted, and secure with beaked prow 
 
 Rode tilting o'er the waves ; all dwellings else 
 
 Flood overwhelm'd, and them with all their pomp 
 
 Deep under water roll'd ; sea cover'd sea, 
 
 Sea without shore ; and in their palaces 
 
 Where luxury late reign'd, sea monsters whelp'd 
 
 And stabled ; of mankind, so numerous late, 
 
 All left, in one small bottom swum embark'd. 
 
 How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold 
 
 The end of all thy offspring, and so sad 
 
 Depopulation ! thee another flood, 
 
 Of tears and sorrow a flood thee also drown'd, 
 
 And sunk thee as thy sons ; till gently rear'd 
 
 By th' angel, on thy feet thou stood'st at last, 
 
 Though comfortless, as when a father mourns 
 
BOOK XI.] PAEADISE LOST. 299 
 
 His children, all in view destroy d at once : 
 And scarce to th' angel utter'dst thus thy plaint : 
 
 O visions ill foreseen ! better had I 
 Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne 
 My part of evil only, each day's lot 
 Enough to bear ; those now, that were dispens'd 
 The burden of many ages, on me light 
 At >nce, by my foreknowledge gaining birth 
 Abortive, to torment me ere their being, 
 With thought that they must be. Let no man seek 
 Henceforth to be foretold what shall befal 
 Him or his children ; evil he may be sure, 
 Which neither his foreknowing can prevent, 
 And he the future evil shall no less 
 In apprehension than in substance feel 
 Grievous to bear : but that care now is past, 
 Man is not whom to warn : those few escap'd 
 Famine and anguish will at last consume 
 Wand'ring that wat'ry desert : I had hope 
 When violence was ceas'd, and war on earth. 
 All would have then gone well, peace would have 
 
 crown'd 
 With length of happy days the race of man ; 
 But I was far deceiv'd ; for now I see 
 Peace to corrupt no less than war to waste. 
 How comes it thus ? unfold, celestial guide, 
 And whether here the race of man will end. 
 
 To whom thus Michael : Those whom last *liou 
 saw'st 
 In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they 
 First seen in acts of prowess eminent 
 A.nd great exploits, but of true virtue void ,* 
 Who having spilt much blood, and done much waste 
 Subduing nations, and achieved thereby 
 Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey. 
 Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and sloth. 
 Surfeit, and lust, till wantonness and pride 
 Raise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace. 
 The conquered also, and enslav'd by war 
 
300 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK XX. 
 
 Shall with their freedom lost, all virtue lose 
 
 And fear of God, from whom their piety feign'd 
 
 In sharp contest of hattle found no aid 
 
 Against invaders ; therefore cool'd in zeal, 
 
 Thenceforth shall practise how to live secure, 
 
 Worldly or dissolute, on what their lords 
 
 Shall leave them to enjoy ; for th' earth shall bear 
 
 More than enough, that temp'rance may he try'd ; 
 
 So all shall turn degenerate, all deprav'd, 
 
 Justice and temp'rance, truth and faith forgot ; 
 
 One man except, the only son of light 
 
 In a dark age, against example good, 
 
 Against allurement, custom, and a world 
 
 Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn, 
 
 Or violence, he of their wicked ways 
 
 Shall them admonish, and before them set 
 
 The paths of righteousness, how much more a\fe, 
 
 And full of peace, denouncing wrath to come 
 
 On their impenitence ; and shall return 
 
 Of them derided, but of God observ'd 
 
 The one just man alive ; by his command 
 
 Shall build a wond'rous ark, as thou beheld'sl 
 
 To save himself and household from amidst 
 
 A world devote to universal wrack 
 
 No sooner he with them of man and beast 
 
 Select for life shall in the ark be lodg'd, 
 
 And sheltex'd round, but all the cataracts 
 
 Of heav'n set open, on the earth shall pour 
 
 Rain day and night ; all fountains of the deep 
 
 Broke up, shall heave the ocean to usurp 
 
 Beyond all bounds, till mundations rise 
 
 Above the highest hills : then shall this mount 
 
 Of Paradise by might of waves be mov'd 
 
 Out of his place, push'd by the horned flood, 
 
 With all his verdure spoil'd, and trees adrift, 
 
 Down the great river to the opening gulf, 
 
 And there take root an island salt and bare. 
 
 The haunt of seals, and ores, and sea-mews elang : 
 
 To teach thee that God attriljutes to place 
 
BOOK XI.] PARADISE LOST. 301 
 
 No sanctity, if none be thither brought 
 
 By men who there frequent, or therein dwell. 
 
 And now what further shall ensue, behold ! 
 
 He look'd, and saw the ark hull on the flood, 
 Which now abated ; for the clouds were fled, 
 Driv'n by a keen north wind, that blowing dry 
 Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decay'd ; 
 And the clear sun on his wide wat'ry glass 
 Gaz'd hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew 
 As after thirst, which made their flowing shrink 
 From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stole 
 With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopt 
 His sluices, as the heav'n his windows shut. 
 The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground 
 Fast on the top of some high mountain fix'd. 
 And now the tops of hills as rocks appear : 
 Wifh clamour thence the rapid currents drive 
 Towards the retreating sea their furious tide. 
 Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies, 
 And after him, the surer messenger, 
 A dove sent forth once and again to spy 
 Green tree or ground whereon his foot may light ■ 
 The second time returning, in his bill 
 An olive leaf he brings, pacific sign : 
 Anon dry ground appears, and from his ark 
 The ancient sire descends with all his train ; 
 Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout, 
 Grateful to heav'n, over his head beholds 
 A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow 
 Conspicuous with three listed colours gay, 
 Betokening peace from God, and covenant new. 
 Whereat the heart of Adam erst so sad 
 Greatly rejoic'd, and thus his joy broke forth : 
 
 O thou who future things canst represent 
 As present, heav'nly instructor, I revive 
 At this last sight, assur'd that man shall live 
 With all the creatures, and their seed preserve. 
 Far less I now lament for one whole world 
 Of wicked sons destroy'd, than I rejoice 
 26 
 
302 PARADISE LOST. [BOGK XT. 
 
 For one man found so peri'ect and so just, 
 
 That God vouchsafes to raise another world 
 
 From him, and all his anger to forget. 
 
 But say, what mean those colour'd streaks in heav'n 
 
 Distended as the brow of God appeas'd ? 
 
 Or serve they as a flow'ry verge to bind 
 
 The fluid skirts of that same wat'ry cloud,. 
 
 Lest it again dissolve and show'r the earth? 
 
 T' whom th' archangel : Dext'rously thou aim'st, 
 So willingly doth God remit his ire, 
 Though late repenting him of man deprav'd 
 Griev'd at his heart, when looking down he saw 
 The whole earth fill'd with violence, and all flesh 
 Corrupting each their way ; yet those remov'd, 
 Such grace shall one just man find in his sight, 
 That he relents, not to blot out mankind, 
 And makes a covenant never to destroy 
 The earth again by flood, nor let the sea 
 Surpass his bounds, nor rain to drown the world 
 With man therein, or beast ; but when he brings 
 Over the earth a cloud, will therein set 
 His triple-colour'd bow, whereon to look 
 And call to mind his covenant ; day and night, 
 Seed-time and harvest, heat and hoary frost 
 Shall hold their course, till fire purge all things new. 
 Both heav'n and earth, wherein the just shall dwelL 
 
 END OF THE ELEVENTH BOOK 
 
THE 
 
 TWELFTH BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 PARADISE LOST, 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The angel Michael continues from the flood to relate what shall 
 succeed ; then, in the mention of Abraham, comes by degrees to 
 explain, who that seed of the woman shall be, which was prom- 
 ised Adam and Eve in the fall; his incarnation, death, resurrec- 
 tion and ascension ; the state of the church till his second com- 
 ing. Adam greatly satisfied and recomforted by these relations 
 and promises, descends the hill with Michael ; wakens Eve, who 
 all this while had slept, but with gentle dreams composed to 
 quietness of mind, and submission. Michael in either hand leads 
 them out of Paradise, the fiery sword waving behind them, and 
 the cherubim, taking their stations to guard the place. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 As one who in his journey bates at noon, 
 Though bent on speed ; so here the archangel paus'd 
 Betwixt the world destroy 'd, and world restor'd, 
 If Adam aught perhaps might interpose ; 
 Then with transition sweet new speech resumes 
 Thus thou hast seen one world begin and end 
 And man as fram a second stock proceed. 
 Much thou hast yet to see, but I perceive 
 Thy mortal sight to fail; objects divine 
 Must needs impair, and weary human sense : 
 Henceforth what is to com-e I will relate, 
 Thou therefore give due audience, and attend. 
 This second source of men, while yet but few, 
 And while the dread of judgment past remains 
 Fresh in their minds, fearing the Deity, 
 With some regard to what is just and right 
 Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace, 
 Lab'ring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, 
 Corn, wine and oil ; and from the herd or flock, 
 Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid, 
 With large wine-offerings pour'd and sacred feast, 
 Shall spend their days in joy unblam'd, and dwell 
 Long time in peace, by families and tribes 
 Under paternal rule : till one shall rise 
 Of proud ambitious heart, who not content 
 26* 
 
306 PARADISE LOST. [BOOK XH. 
 
 With fair equality, fraternal state, 
 Will arrogate dominion undeserv'd 
 Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 
 Concord and law of nature from the earth, 
 Hunting (and men, not beasts, shall be his game,) 
 With war and hostile snare such as refuse 
 Subjection to his empire tyrannous : 
 A mighty hunter thence he shall be styl'd 
 Before the Lord, as in despite of heav'n. 
 Or from heav'n claiming second sov'reignty; 
 And from rebellion shall derive his name, 
 Though of rebellion others he accuse. 
 He v^rith a crew, whom like ambition joins 
 With him or under him to tyrannize, 
 Marching from Eden towards the west, shall find 
 The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge 
 Boils out from under ground, the mouth of hell : 
 Of brick, and of that stuff they cast to build 
 A city and tow'r, whose top may reach to heav*n ; 
 And get themselves a name, lest far dispers'd 
 In foreign lands their memory be lost, 
 Kegardless whether good or evil fame. 
 But God who oft descends to visit men 
 Unseen, and through their habitations walks 
 To mark their doings, them beholding soon. 
 Comes down to see their city, ere the tower 
 Obstruct heav'n-tow'rs, and in derision sets 
 Upon their tongues a various spirit to raze 
 Quite out their native language, and instead 
 To sow a jangling noise of words unknown : 
 Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud 
 Among the builders ; each to other calls 
 Not unders ood, till hoarse, and all in rage. 
 As mock'd they storm ; great laughter was in heav'n 
 And looking down to see the hubbub strange. 
 And hear the din ; thus was the building left 
 Ridiculous, and the work Confusion nam'd. 
 Whereto thus Adam fatherly displeas'd : 
 O execrable son so to aspire 
 
ttdbk xn.] PARADISE lost. 307 
 
 Above his brethren, to himself asstiming 
 Authority usurp'd, from God not given : 
 He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, 
 Dominion absolute, that right we hold 
 By his donation ; but man over men 
 He made not lord ; such title to himself 
 Reserving, human left from human free. 
 But this usurper his encroachment proud 
 Stays not on man ; to God his tow'r intends 
 Siege and defiance : wretched man ! what food 
 Will he convey up thither to sustain 
 Himself and his rash army, where thin air 
 Above the clouds will pine his entrails gross, 
 And famish him of breath, if not of bread ? 
 
 To whom thus Michael : Justly thou abhorr'st 
 That son, who on the quiet state of men 
 Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue 
 Rational liberty ; yet know withal. 
 Since thy original lapse, true liberty 
 Is lost, which always with right reason dwells 
 Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual being : 
 Reason in man obscur'd, or not obey'd, 
 Immediately inordinate desires 
 And upstart passions catch the goverment 
 From reason, and to servitude reduce 
 Man till then free. Therefore since he permits 
 Within himself unworthy pow'rs to reign 
 Over free reason, God in judgment just 
 Subjects him from without to violent lords; 
 Who oft as undeservedly inthral 
 His outward freedom ; tyranny must be, 
 Though to the tjnrant thereby no excuse. 
 Yet sometimes nations will decline so low 
 From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong, 
 But justice, and some fatal curse annex'd 
 Deprives them of their outward liberty. 
 Their inward lost ; witness th' irreverent son 
 Of him who built the ark, who for the sham© 
 Done to his father heard this heavy curse. 
 
308 PARADISE LOST. [bOOKXH. 
 
 Servant of servants ^ on his vicious race. 
 
 Thus will this latter, as the former world, 
 
 Still tend from bad to worse, till God at last 
 
 Wearied with their iniquities, withdraw 
 
 His presence from among them, and avert 
 
 His holy eyes : resolving from thenceforth 
 
 To leave them to their own polluted ways ; 
 
 And one peculiar nation to select 
 
 From all the rest, of whom to be invoked, 
 
 A nation from one faithful man to spring ; 
 
 Him on this side Euphrates yet residing, 
 
 Bred up in idol worship ; O that men 
 
 (Canst thou believe ?) should be so stupid grown, 
 
 While yet the patriarch liv'd, who 'scap'd the flood. 
 
 As to forsake the living God, and fall 
 
 To worship their own work in wood and stone 
 
 For gods ! yet him God the most high vouchsafes 
 
 To call by vision from his father's house. 
 
 His kindred and false gods, into a land 
 
 Which he will show him, and from him will raise 
 
 A mighty nation, and upon him shower 
 
 His benediction so, that in his seed 
 
 All nations shall be blest ; he straight obeys, 
 
 Not knowing to what land, yet firm believes : 
 
 I see him, but thou canst not, with what faith 
 
 He leaves his gods, his friends, and native soil 
 
 Ur of Chaldea, passing now the ford 
 
 To Haran, after him a cumberous train 
 
 Of herds and flocks, and numerous servitude ; 
 
 Not wand'ring poor, but trusting all his wealth 
 
 With God, who call'd him, in a land unknown. 
 
 Canaan he now attains ; I see his tents 
 
 Pitch'd about Sechem, and the neighb'ring plain 
 
 Of Moreh ; there by promise he receives 
 
 Gift to his progeny of all that land, 
 
 From Hamath northward to the desert south, 
 
 (Things by their names I call, though yet unnam'd.) 
 
 From Hermon east to the great western sea ; 
 
 Mount Hermon, yonder sea, each place behold 
 
BOOK XII.] PARADISE LOST. 309 
 
 Tn prospect, as I point them : on the shore 
 
 Mount Carmel ; here the double-founted stream 
 
 Jordan, true limit eastward; but his sons 
 
 Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of hills. 
 
 This ponder, that all nations of the earth 
 
 Shall in his seed be blessed ; by that seed 
 
 Is meant thy great Deliverer, who shall bruise 
 
 The serpent's head ; whereof to thee anon 
 
 Plainlier shall be reveard. This patriarch blest 
 
 Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, 
 
 A son, and of his son a granchild leaves, 
 
 Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown ; 
 
 The granchild with twelve sons increas'd departs 
 
 From Canaan, to a land hereafter call'd 
 
 Egypt, divided by the river Nile ; 
 
 See where it flows, disgorging at sev'n mouths 
 
 Into the sea : to sojourn in that land 
 
 He comes invited by a younger son 
 
 In time of dearth, a son whose worthy deeds 
 
 Raise him to be the second in that realm 
 
 Of Pharaoh : there he dies, and leaves his race 
 
 Growing into a nation, and now grown 
 
 Suspected to a sequent king, who seeks 
 
 To stop their overgrowth, as inmate guests 
 
 Too numerous ; whence of guests he makes them slaves 
 
 Inhospitably, and kills their infant males : 
 
 Till by two brethren (those two brethren call 
 
 Moses and Aaron,) sent them from God to claim 
 
 His people from enthralment, they return 
 
 With glory and spoil back to their promis'd land. 
 
 But first the lawless tyrant, who denies 
 
 To know their God, or message to regard, 
 
 Must be compell'd by signs and judgments dire : 
 
 To blood unshed the rivers must be turn'd ; 
 
 Frogs, lice, and flies, must all his palace fill 
 
 With loath'd intrusion, and fill all the land ; 
 
 His cattle must of rot and murrain die ; 
 
 Botches and blains must all his fl«sh emboss. 
 
 And all his people ; thunder mix'd with hail, 
 
310 PARADISE LOST. [boOK XH. 
 
 Hail mix'd with fire, must rend th' Egyptian sky, 
 
 And wheel on th' earth, devouring where it rolls ; 
 
 What it devours not, herb, or fruit, or grain, 
 
 A darksome cloud of locusts swarming down 
 
 Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green ; 
 
 Darkness must overshadow all his bounds, 
 
 Palpable darkness, and blot out three days : 
 
 Last with one midnight stroke all the first-born 
 
 Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds 
 
 The river-dragon tam'd at length submits 
 
 To let his sojourners depart, and oft * 
 
 Humbles his stubborn heart, but still as ice 
 
 More harden'd after thaw, till in his rage 
 
 Pursuing whom he late dismiss'd, the sea 
 
 Swallows him with his host, but them lets pass 
 
 As on dry land, between two crystal walls, 
 
 Aw'd by the rod of Moses so to stand 
 
 Divided, till his rescu'd gain their shore : 
 
 Such wondrous pow'r God to his saint will lend, 
 
 Though present in his angel, who shall go 
 
 Before them in a cloud, and pillar of fire. 
 
 By day a cloud, by night a pillar of fire, 
 
 To guide them in their journey, and remove 
 
 Behind them, while th' obdurate king pursues : 
 
 All night he will pursue, but his approach 
 
 Darkness defends between till morning watch : 
 
 Then through the fiery pillar and the cloud, 
 
 God looking forth will trouble all his host, 
 
 And craze their chariot wheels : when by command 
 
 Moses once more his potent rod extends 
 
 Over the sea ; the sea his rod obeys ; 
 
 On their embattled ranks the waves return. 
 
 And overwhelm their war : the race elect 
 
 Safe towards Canaan from the shore advance 
 
 Through the wild desert, not the readiest way. 
 
 Lest ent'ring on the Canaanite alarm'd 
 
 War terrify them inexpert, and fear 
 
 Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather 
 
 Inglorious life with servitude ; for life 
 
JkOOK X1I»] PARADISE LOST* 311 
 
 To noble and ignoble is more sweet 
 
 tJntrain'd in arms, where rashness leads not on. 
 
 This also shall they gain by their delay 
 
 In the wide wilderness ; there they shall found 
 
 Their government, and their great senate choose 
 
 Through the twelve tribes to rule by laws ordain'd • 
 
 God from the mount of Sinai, whose grey top 
 
 Shall tremble, he descending, will himself 
 
 In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpet's sound, 
 
 Ordain them laws ; part such as appertain 
 
 To civil justice, part religious rites 
 
 Of sacrifice, informing them by types 
 
 And shadows, of that destin'd seed to bruise 
 
 The serpent, by what means he shall acheive 
 
 Mankind's deliverance. But the voice of God 
 
 To mortal ear is dreadful ; they beseech 
 
 That Moses might report to them his will. 
 
 And terror cease ; he grants what they besought, 
 
 Instructed that to God is no access 
 
 Without mediator, whose high office now 
 
 Moses in figure bears, to introduce 
 
 One greater, of whose day he shall foretel, 
 
 And all the prophets in their age the times 
 
 Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus laws and rites 
 
 Establish'd, such delight hath God in men 
 
 Obedient to his will, that he vouchsafes 
 
 Among them to set up his tabernacle, 
 
 The holy One with mortal men to dwell ; 
 
 By his prescript a sanctuary is fram'd 
 
 Of cedar, overlaid with gold, therein 
 
 An ark, and in the ark his testimony. 
 
 The records of his covenant ; over these 
 
 A mercy seat of Gold between the wings 
 
 Of two bright cherubim ; before him bum 
 
 Sev'n lamps as in a zodiac representing 
 
 The heav'nly fires ; over the tent a cloud 
 
 Shall rest by day, a fiery gleam by night. 
 
 Save when they journey, and at length they come, 
 
 Conducted by his angel to the land 
 
S12 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK Xlf,> 
 
 Promis'd to Abraham and liis seed : the rest 
 Were long to tell, how many battles fought, 
 How many kings destroy'd and kingdoms Avon, 
 Or how the sun shall in mid heav'n stand still 
 A day entire, and night's due course adjourn, 
 Man's voice commanding, Sun in Gibeon stand, 
 And thou moon in the vale of Ajalon, 
 Till Israel overcome ; so call the third 
 From Abraham, son of Isaac, and from him 
 His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win. 
 
 Here Adam interpos'd : O sent from heav'n, 
 Enlight'ner of my darkness, gracious things 
 Thou hast reveal'd, those chiefly which concern 
 Just Abraham and his seed : now first I find 
 Mine eyes true opening, and my heart much eas'd, 
 Erewhile perplex'd with thoughts what would become 
 Of me and all mankind ; but now I see 
 His day, In whom all nations shall be blest, 
 Favour unmerited by me, who sought 
 Forbidden knowledge by forbidden means. 
 This yet 1 apprehend not, why to those 
 Among whom God will deign to dwell on earthy 
 So many and so various laws are given ; 
 So many laws argues so many sins 
 Among them ; how can God with such reside ? 
 
 To whom thus Michael : Doubt not but that sin 
 Will reign among them, as of thee begot ; 
 And therefore was law given them to evince 
 Their natural pravity, by stirring up 
 Sin against law to fight : that when they see 
 Law can discover sin, but now remove, 
 Save by those shadowy expiations weak. 
 The blood of bulls and goats, they may conclude 
 Some blood more precious must be paid for man, 
 Just for unjust, that in such righteousness 
 To them by faith imputed, they may find 
 Justification towards God, and peace 
 Of conscience, which the law by ceremonies 
 Cannot appease, nor man the mortal part 
 
BOOK XII.] PARADISE LOST. 313 
 
 Perform, and not performing cannot live. 
 So law appears imperfect, and but given 
 With purpose to resign them in full time 
 Up to a better covenant, disciplin'd 
 From shadowy types to truth, from j3esh to spirit, 
 Prom imposition of strict laws to free 
 Acceptance of large grace, from servile fear 
 To filial, works of law to works of faith. 
 And therefore shall not Moses, though of God 
 Highly belov'd, being but the minister 
 Of law, his people into Canaan lead ; 
 But Joshua whom the gentiles Jesus call, 
 His name and office bearing, who shall quell 
 The adversary serpent, and bring back 
 Through the world's wilderness long wandered man 
 Safe to eternal paradise of rest. 
 Meanwhile they in their earthly Canaan plac'd 
 Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins 
 National interrupt their public peace. 
 Provoking God to raise them enemies ; 
 From whom as oft he saves them penitent 
 By judges first, then under kings ; of whom 
 The second, both for piety renown'd 
 And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive 
 Irrevocable, that his regal throne 
 For ever shall endure ; the like shall sing 
 All prophecy, that of the royal stock 
 Of David (so I name this king,) shall rise 
 A son, the woman's seed to thee foretold, 
 Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust 
 All nations, and to kings foretold, of kings 
 The last, for of his reign shall be no end. 
 But first a long succession must ensue. 
 And his next son, for wealth and wisdom fam'd 
 The clouded ark of God, till then in tents 
 Wand'ring, shall in a glorious temple enshrine. 
 Such follow him, as shall be register'd 
 Part good, part bad, of bad the longer scroll, 
 Whose foul idolatries, and other faults 
 27 
 
314 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK XH. 
 
 Heap'd to the popular sum, will so incense 
 
 God, as to leave them, and expose their land, 
 
 Their city, his temple, and his holy ark 
 
 With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey 
 
 To that proud city, whose high walls thou saw*st 
 
 Left in confusion, Babylon thence call'd. 
 
 There in captivity he lets them dwell 
 
 The space of sev'nty years, then brings them back, 
 
 Rememb'ring mercy, and his covenant sworn 
 
 To David, stablish'd as the days of heav'n. 
 
 Return'd from Babylon by leave of kings 
 
 Their lords, whom God dispos'd, the house of God 
 
 They first re-edify, and for awhile 
 
 In mean estate live moderate, till grown 
 
 In wealth and multitude, factious they grow : 
 
 But first among the priests dissension springs. 
 
 Men who attend the altar, and should most 
 
 Endeavour peace : their strife pollution brings 
 
 Upon the temple itself; at last they seize 
 
 The sceptre, and regard not David's sons, 
 
 Then lose it to a stranger, that the true v •'•' 
 
 Anointed king Messiah might be born - 
 
 Barr'd of his right ; yet at his birth a star 
 
 Unseen before in heav'n proclaims him come. 
 
 And guides the eastern sages, who inquire 
 
 His place, to offer incense, myrrh, and gold ; 
 
 His place of birth a solemn angel tells 
 
 To simple shepherds, keeping watch by night ; 
 
 They gladly thither haste, and by a choir 
 
 Of squadron 'd angels hear his carol sung. 
 
 A virgin is his mother, but his sire 
 
 The pow'r of the most High ; he shall ascend 
 
 The throne hereditary, and bound his reign 
 
 With earth's wide bounds, his glory with the heav'ns. 
 
 He ceas'd, discerning Adam with such joy 
 Surcharg'd, as had like grief been dew'd in tears, 
 Without the vent of words, which these he breath *d: 
 
 O prophet of glad tidings, finisher 
 Of utmost hope ! now clear I understand 
 
BOOK XII.] PARADISE LOST. 315 
 
 What oft my steadiest tho'ts have searched in vain ; 
 Why our great expectation should be call'd 
 The seed of woman : virgin mother, hail, 
 High in the love of heav'n, yet from my loins 
 Thou shalt proceed, and from thy womb the Son 
 Of God most High ; so God with man unites. 
 Needs must the serpent now his capital bruise 
 Expect with mortal pain : say where and when 
 Their fight, what stroke shall bruise the victor's heel. 
 To whom thus Michael : Dream not of their fight, 
 As of a duel, or the local wounds 
 Of head or heel ; not therefore joins the Son 
 Manhood to godhead, with more strength to foil 
 Thy enemy : nor so is overcome 
 Satan, whose fall from heav'n, a deadlier bruise, 
 Disabled not to give thee thy death's wound ; 
 Which he, who comes thy Saviour, shall re-cure, 
 Not by destroying Satan, but his works 
 In thee and in thy seed ; nor can this be, 
 But by fulfilling that which thou didst want, 
 Obedience to the law of God, impos'd 
 On penalty of death, and suffering death, 
 The penalty of thy transgression due. 
 And due to theirs, which out of thine will grow ; 
 So only can high justice rest appaid. 
 The law of God exact he shall fulfil 
 Both by obedience and by love, though love 
 Alone fulfil the law : thy punishment 
 He shall endure by coming in the flesh 
 To a reproachful life and cursed death, 
 Proclaiming life to all who shall believe 
 In his redemption, and that his obedience 
 Imputed becomes theirs by faith, his merits 
 To save them not their own, though legal works. 
 For this he shall live hated, be blasphem'd, 
 Seiz'd on by force, judg'd, and to death condemn'd 
 A shameful and accurs'd, nail'd to the cross 
 By his own nation, slain for bringing life ; 
 But to the cross he nails thy enemies, 
 
316 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK XH. 
 
 The law that is against thee, and the sins 
 Of all mankind, with him there crucify'd, 
 Never to hurt them more who rightly trust 
 In this his satisfaction : so he dies, 
 But soon revives ; death over him no power 
 Shall long usurp ; ere the third dawning light 
 Return, the stars of morn shall see him rise 
 Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light, 
 Thy ransom paid, which man from death redeems, 
 His death for man, as many as offer 'd life 
 Neglect not, and the benefit embrace 
 By faith not void of works : this godlike act 
 Annuls thy doom, the death thou should'st have dy'd, 
 In sin for ever lost from life ; this act 
 Shall bruise the head of Satan, cru&h his strength, 
 Defeating sin and death his two main arms, 
 And fix far deeper in his head their stings 
 Than temp'ral death, shall bruise the victor's heel, 
 Or theirs whom he redeems, a death like sleep, 
 A gentle wafting to immortal life. 
 Sot after resurrection shall he stay, 
 Longer on earth than certain times t' appear 
 To his disciples, men who in his life 
 Still foUow'd him ; to them shall leave in charge 
 To teach all nations what of him they learn'd, 
 And his salvation, them who shall believe 
 Baptizing in the profluent stream, the sign 
 Of washing them from guilt of sin to life 
 Pure, and in mind prepar'd, if so befal, 
 For death like that which the Redeemer dy'd. 
 All nations they shall teach ; for from that day 
 Not only to the sons of Abraham's loins 
 Salvation shall be preach'd, but to the sons 
 Of Abraham's faith wherever through the world ; 
 So in his seed all nations shall be blest. 
 Then to the heav'n of heav'ns he shall ascend 
 With victory, triumphing through the air 
 Over his foes and thine ; there shall surprise 
 The serpent, prince of air, and drag in chains 
 
BOOK XII.] PAiiADISE LOST. 317 
 
 Through all his realm, and there confounded leave ; 
 
 Then enter into glory, and resume 
 
 His seat at God's right hand, exalted high 
 
 Above all names in heav'n ; and thence shall come, 
 
 When this world's dissolution shall be ripe. 
 
 With glory and pow'r to judge both quick and dead, 
 
 To judge th' unfaithful dead, but to reward 
 
 His faithful, and receive them into bliss, 
 
 Whether in heav'n or earth, for then the earth 
 
 Shall all be Paradise, far happier place 
 
 Than this of Eden, and far happier days. 
 
 So spake th' archangel Michael, then paus'd, 
 As at the world's great period ; and our sire 
 Replete with joy and wonder thus reply 'd : 
 
 O goodness infinite, goodness immense ! 
 That all this good of evil shall produce, 
 And evil turn to good ; more wonderful 
 Than that which by creation first brought forth 
 Light out of darkness ! full of doubt I stand, 
 Whether I should repent me now of sin 
 By me done and occasion'd, or rejoice 
 Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring, 
 To God more glory, more good will to men 
 From God, and over wrath grace shall abound. 
 But say, if our Deliverer up to heav'n 
 Must reascend, what will betide the few 
 His faithful, left among th' unfaithful herd. 
 The enemies of truth ? who then shall guide 
 His people, who defend ? will they not deal 
 Worse with his followers than with him they dealt ? 
 
 Be sure they will, said th' angel : but from heav'n 
 He to his own a Comforter will send. 
 The promise of the Father, who shall dwell 
 His Spirit within them, and the law of faith 
 Working through love, upon their hearts shall write 
 To guide them in all truth, and also arm 
 With spiritual armour, able to resist 
 Satan's assaults, and quench his fiery darts, 
 What*man can do against them, not afraid, 
 27* 
 
318 PAHADISE LOST. [bOOK XII. 
 
 Though to the death, against such cruelties 
 
 With inward consolations recompens'd, 
 
 And oft supported so as shall amaze 
 
 Their proudest persecuters : for the Spirit 
 
 Pour'd first on his apostles, whom he sends 
 
 To evangelize the nations, then on all 
 
 Baptiz'd, shall them with wondrous gifts endue'' 
 
 To speak all tongues, and do all miracles. 
 
 As did their Lord before them. Thus they win 
 
 Great numbers of each nation to receive 
 
 With joy the tidings brought from heav'n ; at length 
 
 Their ministry perform'd, and race well run, 
 
 Their doctrine and their story written left, 
 
 They die ; but in their room as they forewarn, 
 
 Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, 
 
 Who all the sacred mysteries of heav'n 
 
 To their own vile advantages shall turn, 
 
 Of lucre and ambition, and the truth 
 
 With superstitions and traditions taint, 
 
 Left only in those written records pure. 
 
 Though not but by the Spirit understood. 
 
 Then shall they seek t' avail themselves of names, 
 
 Places, and titles, and with these to join 
 
 Secular pow'r, though feigning still to act 
 
 By spiritual, to them.selves appropriating 
 
 The spirit of God, promis'd alike, and giv'n 
 
 To all believers ; and from that pretence. 
 
 Spiritual laws by carnal pow'r shall force 
 
 On every conscience ; laws which none shall find 
 
 Left them enroll'd, or what the Spirit within 
 
 Shall on the heart engrave. What will they ther 
 
 But force the Spirit of grace itself, and bind 
 
 His consort liberty ? what, but unbuild 
 
 His living temples, built by faith to stand, 
 
 Their own faith not another's ? for on earth 
 
 Who against faith and conscience can be heard * 
 
 Infallible, yet many will presume : 
 
 Whence heavy persecution shall arise 
 
 On all who in the worship persevere 
 
BOOK XII.J PARADISE LOST. S19 
 
 Of spirit and truth ; the rest, far greater part, 
 Will deem in outward rites and specious forms 
 Keligion satisfy'd : truth shall retire 
 Bestuck with sland'rous darts, and works of faith 
 Rarely be found : so shall the world go on, 
 To good malignant, to bad men benign. 
 Under her own weight groaning, till the day 
 Appear of respiration to the just, 
 An-d vengeance to the wicked, at return 
 Of him so lately promis'd to thy aid, 
 To woman's Seed obscurely then foretold, 
 Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord, 
 Last in the clouds from heav'n to be reveal'd 
 In glory of the Father, to dissolve 
 Satan with his perverted world, then raise 
 From the coniiagrant mass, piu'g'd and refin'd, 
 New heav'ns, new earth ages of endless date 
 Founded in righteousness and peace and love, 
 To bring forth fruits, joy and eternal bliss. 
 He ended ; and thus Adam last reply'd : 
 How soon hath thy prediction, seer blest, 
 Measur'd this transient ^vorld, the race of time, 
 Till time stand fix'd ? beyond is all abyss. 
 Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. 
 Greatly instructed I shall hence depart 
 Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill 
 Of knowledge, what this vessel can contain ; 
 Beyond which was my folly to aspire. 
 Henceforth I learn, that to obey is best, 
 And love with fear the only God, to wa'Ik 
 As in his presence, ever to observe 
 His providence, and on him sole depend. 
 Merciful over all his works, with good 
 Still overcoming evil, and by small 
 Accomplishing great things, by things deem'd weak 
 Subverting wordly strong, and wordly wise 
 By simply meek : that suffering for truth's sake 
 Is fortitude to highest victory, 
 And, to the faithful, death the gate of life ; 
 
320 PARADISE LOST. [bOOK Xfl 
 
 Taught this by his example whom I now 
 Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest. 
 
 To whom thus also th' angel last reply'd : 
 This having learn'd, thou hast attain'd the sum 
 Of wisdom ; hope no higher, though all the stars 
 Thou knew'st by name, and all th' ethereal pow'rs, 
 A.11 secrets of the deep, all Nature's works, 
 Or works of God in heav'n, air, earth or sea, 
 A.nd all the riches of this world enjoy'dst, 
 And all the rule, one empire ; only add 
 Deeds to thy knowledge answerable, add faith, 
 Add virtue, patience, temperance, add love. 
 By name to come call'd charity, the soul 
 Of all the rest : then wilt thou not be loath 
 To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess 
 A paradise within thee, happier far. 
 Let us descend now therefore from this top 
 Of speculation ; for the hour precise 
 Exacts our parting hence ; and see ! the guards, 
 By me encamp'd in yonder hill, expect 
 Their motion, at whose front a flaming sword, 
 In signal of remove, waves fiercely round ; 
 We may no longer stay : go waken Eve ; 
 Her also I with gentle dreams have calm'd 
 Portending good, and all her spirits compos'd 
 To meek submission : thou at season fit 
 Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard, 
 Chiefly what may concern her faith to know, 
 The great deliverance by her seed to come, 
 ^For by the woman's seed) on all mankind : 
 That ye may live, which will be many days, 
 Both in one faith unanimous though sad, 
 With cause for evils past, yet much more cheer'd 
 With meditation on the happy end. 
 
 He ended, and they both descend the hill ; 
 Descended, Adam to the bow'r where Eve 
 Lay sleeping ran before, but found her wak'd ; 
 And thus with words not sad she him receiv'd : 
 
 Whence thou return 'st, and whither went'st I know, 
 
BOOK XII.] PARADISE LOST. 821 
 
 For God is also in sleep, and dreams advise, 
 
 "Which he hath sent propitious, some great good 
 
 Presaging, since with sorrow and heart's distress 
 
 Wearied I fell asleep ; but now lead on ; 
 
 In me is no delay; with thee to go, 
 
 Is to stay here ; without thee here to stay, 
 
 Is to go hence unwilling ; thou to me 
 
 Art all things under heav'n, all places thou, 
 
 Who for my wilful crime art banish'd hence. 
 
 This further consolation yet secure 
 
 I carry hence ; though all by me is lost. 
 
 Such favour I unworthy am vouchsafd. 
 
 By me the promis'd Seed shall all restore. 
 
 So spake our mother Eve, and Adam heard 
 Well pleas'd, but answer'd not ; for now too nigh 
 Th' arch-angel stood, and from the other hill 
 To their fix'd station, all in bright array 
 The cherubim descended ; on the ground 
 Gliding metorous, as evening mist 
 Ris'n from a river o'er the marish glides, 
 And gathers ground fast at the lab'rer's heel 
 Homeward returning. High in front advanc'd, 
 The brandish'd sword of God before them blaz'tJ, 
 Fierce as a comet ; which with torrid heat, 
 And vapour as the Lybian air adust. 
 Began to parch that temp'rate clime ; whereat 
 In either hand the hast'ning angel caught 
 Our ling'ring parents, and to th' eastern gate 
 Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast 
 To the subjected plain ; then disappear'd. 
 They looking back, all th' eastern side beheld 
 Of paradise, so late their happy seat, 
 Wav'd over by that flaming brand, the gate 
 With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms : 
 Some natural tears they dropt, but wip'd them soon , 
 The world was all before them, where to choose 
 Their place of rest, and Providence their guide : 
 They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow, 
 Through Eden took their solitary way. 
 
 THE END OF PARADISE LOST. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book I, 5 
 
 Book II, , 19 
 
 Book III, 33 
 
 Book IV, 45 
 
 Mask of Comus, 63 
 
 Samson Agonistes, 95 
 
 POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 
 
 L'Allegro, 145 
 
 II Penseroso, , . 149 
 
 On the death of a fair infant dying of a cough, 154 
 At a vacation exercise in the College, . . .157 
 On the morning of Christ's Nativity, .... 160 
 
 The Passion, 168 
 
 On Time, • • • • 171 
 
 Upon the Circumcision, 171 
 
 At a solemn Music, 172 
 
 An epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester, . 173 
 
 Song. — On May Morning, 175 
 
 On Shakspeare, 176 
 
 On the University Carrier, 176 
 
 Another on the same, 177 
 
 Arcades, 178 
 
 Lycidas, 182 
 
 On the new forcers of conscience, under the Long 
 
 Parliament, 188 
 
 The fifth Ode of Horace, Lib. 1 1S9 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 Td the Nightingale, 191 
 
 On his being arrived at the age of twenty-three, 191 
 When the assault was intended to the City, . . 192 
 
 To a virtuous Young Lady, 192 
 
 To the Lady Margaret Ley, 193 
 
 On the detraction which followed upon the writ- 
 ting certain treatises, 194 
 
 On the same, 195 
 
 To Mr. H. Lawes, on his airs, 195 
 
 On the religious memory of Mrs. Catharine 
 
 Thomson, 196 
 
 To the Lord General Fairfax, 196 
 
 To the Lord General Cromwell, 197 
 
 To Sir Henry Vane the younger, .... 198 
 
 On the late massacre in Piedmont, 198 
 
 On his blindness, 199 
 
 To Mr. Lawrence, 200 
 
 To Cyriac Skinner, 200 
 
 To the same, 201 
 
 On his deceased Wife, 201 
 
 Psalms, 203 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 I WHO erewhile the happy garden sung, 
 By one man's disobedience lost, now sing 
 Recover'd Paradise to all mankind, 
 By one man's firm obedience fully tried 
 Through all temptation, and the Tempter foil'd 
 In a41 his wiles, defeated and repuls'd, 
 And Eden rais'd in the waste wildernes-s. 
 
 Thou spirit who ledst this glorious Eremite 
 Into the desert, his victorious field, 
 Against the spiritual foe, and brought him thence 
 By proof th' undoubted Son of God, inspire, 
 As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mut9, 
 And bear through height or depth of Nature's bourhlf. 
 With prosp'rous wing full summ'd, to tell of deeds 
 Above heroic, though in secret done. 
 And unrecorded left through many an age. 
 Worthy t' have not remain'd so long unsung! 
 
 Now had the great Proclaimer, with a voice 
 More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried 
 Repentance, and heav'n's kingdom nigh at hand 
 To all baptiz'd : to this great baptism flock'd 
 With awe the regions round, and with them came 
 From Nazareth the son of Joseph deem'd, 
 To the flood Jordan, came as then obscure, 
 Unmark'd, unknown 5 but him the Baptist soon 
 
6 I-ARADISE REGAINED [bOOE. L 
 
 Descried, divinely warn'd, and witness bore 
 As to his worthier, and would have resign'd 
 To him his heavenly office ; nor was long 
 His witness unconfirm'd : on him baptiz'd 
 Heaven open'd, and in likeness of a dove 
 The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice 
 From heaven pronounc'd him his beloved Son. 
 That heard the adversary, who roving still 
 About the world, at that assembly fam'd 
 Wruld not be last, and with the voice divine 
 Nigh thunder-struck, th' exalted Man, to whom 
 Such high attest was given, awhile surveyed 
 "With wonder ; then, with envy fraught and rage. 
 Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid-air 
 To council summons all his mighty peers, 
 Within thick clouds and dark ten-fold involv'd, 
 A gloomy consistory; and them amidst 
 "With looks aghast and sad he thus bespake : 
 
 O ancient powers of air and this wide world, 
 For much more willingly I mention air, 
 This our old conquest, than remember Hell, 
 pur hated habitation ; well ye know 
 How many ages, as the years of men. 
 This universe we have possess'd, and rul'd 
 In manner at our will th' affairs of earth, 
 Since Adam and his facile consort Eve 
 Lost Paradise, deceiv'd by me, though since 
 "With dread attending when that fatal wound 
 Shall be inflicted by the seed of Eve 
 Upon my head : long the decrees of heaven 
 Delay, for longest time to him is short : 
 And now too soon for us the circling hours 
 This dreaded time have compass'd, whercin we 
 Must bide the stroke of that long threaten'd wound, 
 At l&ast if so we can, and by the head 
 Broken be not intended all our power 
 To be infring'd, our freedom and our being 
 in this fair empire won of earth and air; 
 For this ill news I bring, the woman's Seed 
 
BOOK I.] PARADISE REGAINED. 7 
 
 Destin'd to this, is late of woman born : 
 
 His birth to our just fear gave no small cause, 
 
 But his growth now to youth's fall flower, displaying 
 
 All virtue, grace, and wisdom, to achieve 
 
 Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear. 
 
 Before him a great prophet, to proclaim 
 
 His coming, is sent harbinger, who all 
 
 Invites, and in the consecrated stream 
 
 Pretends to wash off sin, and fit them so 
 
 Purified, to receive him pure ; or rather 
 
 To do him honour as their king : all come, 
 
 And he himself among them was baptiz'd ; 
 
 Not thence to be more pure, but to receive 
 
 The testimony of heaven, that who he is 
 
 Thenceforth the nations may not doubt. I saw 
 
 The prophet do him reverence, on him rising 
 
 Out of the water, heaven above the clouds 
 
 Unfold her chrystal doors, thence on his head 
 
 A perfect dove descend, whate'er it meant. 
 
 And out of heaven the Sov'reign voice I heardi 
 
 This is my Son belov'd, in him am pleas'd. 
 
 His mother then is mortal, but his sire 
 
 He who obtains the monarchy of heaven, 
 
 And what will he not do t' advance his Son ? 
 
 His first-begot we know and sore have felt, 
 
 When his fierce thunder drove us to the deep ; 
 
 Who this is We must learn, for man he seems 
 
 In all his lineaments, though in his face 
 
 The glimpses of his Father's glory shine. 
 
 Ye see our danger on the utmost edge 
 
 Of hazard, which admits no long debate, 
 
 But must with something sudden be oppos'd, 
 
 Not force, but well couch'd fraud, well woven snares 
 
 Ere in the head of nations he appear 
 
 Their king, their leader, and supreme on earth. 
 
 I, when no other durst, sole undertook 
 
 The dismal expedition to find out 
 
 And ruin Adam, and th' exploit perform'd 
 
 Successfully ; a calmer voyage now 
 
S -PARADISE REGAINED [bOOJ L 
 
 Will waft me : and the way found prosp'rous onc«» 
 Induces best to hope of like success. 
 
 He ended, and his words impression left 
 Of much amazement to the infernal crew, 
 Distracted and surpris'd with deep dismay 
 At these sad tidings ; but no time was then 
 For long indulgence to their fears or grief: 
 Unanimous they all commit the care 
 And management of this main enterprise 
 To him their great dictator, whose attempt 
 At first against mankind so well had thriv'd 
 In Adam's overthrow, and led their march 
 From hell's deep-vaulted den to dwell in light, 
 Regents and potentates, and kings, yea gods 
 Of many a pleasant realm and province wide. 
 So to the coast of Jordan he directs 
 His easy steps, girded with snaky wiles, 
 Where he might likeliest find this new declar'd, 
 This Man of men, attested Son of God, 
 Temptation, and all guile, on him to try ; 
 So to subvert whom he suspected rais'd 
 To end his reign on earth, so long enjoy 'd ; 
 But contrary, unweeting he fulfill'd 
 The purpos'd counsel, pre-ordain'd and fix'd 
 Of the Most high, who in full frequence bright 
 Of angels, thus to Gabriel, smiling, spake : 
 
 Gabriel this day by proof thou shalt behold. 
 Thou and all angels conversant on earth 
 With man or men's affairs, how I begin 
 To verify that solemn message late. 
 On which I sent thee to the Virgin pure 
 In Galilee, that she should bear a Son 
 Great in renown, and call'd the Son of God ; 
 Then told'st her doubting how these things could W 
 To her a virgin, that on her should come 
 The Holy Ghost, and the power of the Highest 
 O'er-shadow her ; this Man born, and now upgrown 
 To show him worthy of his birth divine 
 And high predictit)n, henceforth I expos© 
 
BOOK I.] PARADISE EEGAINED. 
 
 To Satan ; let him tempt and now assay 
 
 His utmost subtilty, because he boasts 
 
 And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng 
 
 Of his apostacy ; he might have learnt 
 
 Less overweening since he fail'd in Job, 
 
 Whose constant perseverance overcame 
 
 What'er his cruel malice could invent. 
 
 He now shall know I can produce a Man 
 
 Of female seed, far abler to resist 
 
 All his solicitations, and at length 
 
 All his vast force, and drive him back to hell, 
 
 Winning by conquest v/hat the first man lost, 
 
 By fallacy surpris'd. But first I mean 
 
 To exercise him in the wilderness ; 
 
 There shall he first lay down the rudiments 
 
 Of his great warfare, ere I send him forth 
 
 To conquer Sin and Death, the two grand foe» 
 
 By humiliation and strong sufferance ; 
 
 His weakness shall o'ercome Satanic strength, 
 
 And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh ; 
 
 That all the angels and ethereal powers, 
 
 They now, and men hereafter, may discern 
 
 From what consummate virtue I have chose 
 
 This perfect Man, by merit call'd my Son. 
 
 To earn salvation for the sons of men. 
 
 So spake th' eternal Father, and all heaven 
 Admiring stood a space, then into hymns 
 Burst forth, and in celestial measures mov'd, 
 Circling the throne and singing, while the hand 
 Sung Avith the voice, and this the argument : 
 
 Vict'ry and triumph to the Son of God, 
 Vow ent'ring his great duel, not of arms, 
 But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles. 
 The Father knows the Son ; therefore secure 
 Ventures his filial virtue, though untried, 
 Against whate'er may tempt, whate'er seduce, 
 Allure, or terrify, or undermine. 
 Be frustrate all ye stratagems of hell. 
 And devilish machinations come to nought. 
 
10 PARADISE REGAINED. [boOK I. 
 
 So they in heaven their odes and vigils tun'd; 
 Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some days 
 Lodg'd in Bethabara, where John baptiz'd, 
 Musing and much revolving in his breast, 
 How best the mighty work he might begin 
 Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first 
 Publish his godlike ofice now mature. 
 One day forth w^alk'd alone, the Spirit leading, 
 And his deep thoughts, the better to converse 
 With Solitude, till far from track of men, 
 Thought following thought, and step by step led on, 
 He enter'd now the bord'ring desert wild. 
 And with dark shades and rocks environ'd round, 
 His holy meditations thus pursu'd : 
 
 O what a multitude of thoughts at once 
 Awaken'd in me swarm, while I consider 
 What from within I feel myself, and hear 
 What from without comes often to my ears, 
 111 sorting with my present state compar'd ! 
 When I was yet a child, no childish play 
 To me was pleasing : all my mind was set 
 Serious to learn and know, and thence to do 
 What might be public good : myself I thought 
 Born to that end, born to promote all truth, 
 All righteous things : therefore above my years, 
 The law of God I read, and found it sweet. 
 Made it my whole delight, and in it grew 
 To such perfection, that ere yet my age 
 Hp,d measur'd twice six years, at our great feast 
 I went into the temple, there to hear 
 The teachers of our law, and to propose 
 What might improve my knowledge, or their own ; 
 And was admir'd by all : yet this not all 
 To which my spirit aspir'd : victorious deeds 
 Flam'd in my heart, heroic acts, one while 
 To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke, 
 Then to subdue and quell o'er all the earth 
 Brute violence and proud tyrannic power, 
 Till truth were freed, and equity rcstor'd ; 
 
BOOK I.J PARADISE REGAINED. 11 
 
 Yet held it more humane, more heavenly, first, 
 
 By winning words, to conquer willing hearts, 
 
 And make Persuasion do the work of Fear; 
 
 At least to try, and teach the erring soul 
 
 Not wilfully mis-doing, but unaware 
 
 Misled ; the stubborn only to subdue. 
 
 These growing thoughts, my mother soon perceiving 
 
 By words at times cast forth, inly rejoic'd, 
 
 And said to me apart, — ' High are thy thoughts, 
 
 O Son, but nourish them, and let them soar 
 
 To what height sacred virtue and true worth 
 
 Can raise them, though above example high ; 
 
 By matchless deeds express thy matchless Sire. 
 
 For know, thou art no son of mortal man ; 
 
 Though men esteem thee low of parentage. 
 
 Thy Father is th' eternal King, who rules 
 
 All heaven and earth, angels and sons of men. 
 
 A messenger from God foretold thy birth 
 
 Conceiv'd in me a virgin ; he foretold 
 
 Thou shouldst be great, and sit on David's throne, 
 
 And of thy kingdom there should be no end. 
 
 At thy nativity a glorious choir 
 
 Of angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung 
 
 To shepherds, watching at their folds by night, 
 
 And told them the Messiah now was born, 
 
 Where they might see him, and to thee they came, 
 
 Directed to the manger where thou lay'st, 
 
 For in the inn was left no better room ; 
 
 A star, not seen before, in heaven appearing, 
 
 Guided the wise men thither from the east, 
 
 To honour thee with incense, myrrh, and gold. 
 
 By whose bright course led on they found the place. 
 
 Affirming it thy star new graven in heaven, 
 
 By which they knew the King of Israel born. 
 
 Just Simeon and prophetic Anna, warn'd 
 
 By vision, found thee in the temple, and spake 
 
 Before the altar and the vested priest. 
 
 Like things of thee to all that present stood.' — 
 
 This having hear<l, straight I again revolv'd 
 
12 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK I. 
 
 The law and prophets, searching what was writ 
 Concerning the Messiah, to our scribes 
 Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake 
 I am ; this chiefly, that my way must lie 
 Through many a hard essay, ev'n to the death, 
 Ere I the promis'd kingdom can attain, 
 Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins 
 Full weight must be transferr'd upon my head. 
 Yet neither thus dishearten'd or dismay'd, 
 The time prefix'd I waited, when behold 
 The Baptist (of whose birth I oft have heard, 
 Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come 
 Before Messiah, and his way prepare. 
 I, as all others to his baptism came. 
 Which I believ'd was from above : but he 
 Straight knew me, and with loudest voice proclaimed 
 Me him, (for it was shown him so from heaven,) 
 IVIe him, whose harbinger he was ; and first 
 Refus'd on me his baptism to confer. 
 As much his greater, and was hardly won : 
 But as I rose out of the laving stream. 
 Heaven open'd her eternal doors, from whence 
 The Spirit descended on me like a dove. 
 And last, the sum of all, my Father's voice 
 Audibly heard from heaven, pronounc'd me his, 
 Me his beloved Son, in whom alone 
 He was well pleas'd ; by which I knew the time 
 Now full, that I no more should live obscure, 
 But openly begin, as best becomes 
 Th' authority which I deriv'd from heaven. 
 And now by some strong motion I am led 
 Into this wildernss; to what intent 
 I learn not yet, perhaps I need not know ; 
 For what concejrns my knowledge God reveals. 
 So spoke our Morning Star, then in his rise, 
 And, looking round on every side, beheld 
 A pathless desert dusk with horrid shades : 
 The way he came not having mark'd, return 
 Was difficult, by human steps untrod ; 
 
BOOKt.l PARADISE REGAINED. VA 
 
 And he still on was led, but with such thoughts 
 Accompanied of things past and to come 
 Lodg'd in his breast, as well might recommend 
 Such solitude before choicest society. 
 Full forty days he pass'd, whether on hill 
 Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night 
 Under the covert of some ancient oak, 
 Or cedar, to defend him from the dew, 
 Or harbour'd in lone cave, is not re.veal'd; 
 Nor tasted human food, nor hunger felt 
 Till those days ended, hunger'd then at last 
 Among wild beasts ; they at his sight grew mild, 
 Nor sleeping him nor waking harm'd ; his walk 
 The fiery serpent fled, and noxious worm, 
 The lion and fierce tiger glar'd aloof. 
 But now an aged man, in rural Aveeds, 
 Following, as seem'd the quest of some stray ewe, 
 Or wither'd sticks to gather, which might serve 
 Against a winter's day, when winds blow keen, 
 To warm him, wet return'd from field at eve, 
 He saw approach, who first with curious eye 
 Perus'd him, then with words thus utter'd spoke ; 
 
 Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this place 
 So far from path or road of men, who pass 
 In troop or caravan ? for single none 
 Durst ever, who return'd, and dropp'd not here 
 His carcass, pin'd with hunger and with drought. 
 I ask thee rather, and the more admire. 
 For that to me thou seem'st the Man whom late 
 Our new baptising Prophet at the ford 
 Of Jordan honour'd so, and call'd thee Son 
 Of God, I saw and heard ; for we sometimes, 
 "Who dwell this wild ; constrain'd by want come forth 
 To town or village nigh, (nighest is far,) 
 Where ought we hear, and curious are to hear, 
 What happens new : Fame also finds us out." 
 To whom the Son of God : Who brought me hithcFi 
 Will bring me hence ; no other guide I seek. 
 
 By miracle he may, replied the swain ; 
 
14 PARADISE REGAINED, [bOOK I. 
 
 WTiat Other way I see not ; for we here 
 
 Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inur'd 
 
 More than the cancel, and to drink go far, 
 
 Men to much misery and hardship born ; 
 
 But if thou be the Son of God, command 
 
 That out of these hard stones be made thee bread, 
 
 So shah thou save thyself, and us relieve 
 
 With food, whereof we wretched seldom taste. 
 
 He ended, and the Son of God replied : 
 Think'st thou such force in bread ? Is it not written 
 (For I discern thee other than thou seem'st) 
 Man lives not by bread only, but each word 
 Proceeding from the mouth of God, who fed 
 Our fathers here with manna ? In the mount 
 Moses was forty days, nor eat nor drank ; 
 And forty days Elijah without food 
 Wander'd this barren waste ; the same I now : 
 Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust, 
 Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art ? 
 Whom thus answer'd th' archfiend, now UHdis* 
 guis'd : 
 'Tis true I am that spirit unfortunate, 
 Who, leagu'd with millions more in rash revolt. 
 Kept not my happy station, but was driven 
 With them from bliss to the bottomless deep ; 
 Yet to that hideous place not so confin'd 
 By rigour unconniving, but that oft 
 Leaving my dolorous prison, I enjoy 
 Large liberty to round this globe of earth. 
 Or range in th' air ; nor from the heaven of heaven* 
 Hath he excluded my resort sometimes. 
 I came among the Sons of God when he 
 Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job, 
 To prove him and illustrate his high worth ; 
 And when to all his angels he propos'd 
 To draw the proud king Ahab into fraud, 
 That he might fall in Ramoth, they demurring, 
 I undertook that ot!ice, and the tongues 
 Of all his flattering prophets glibb'd with lies, 
 
^OOK I.] PARADISE REGAINED. »0 
 
 To his destruction, as I had in charge ; 
 
 For what he bids I do ; though I have lost 
 
 Much lustre of my native brightness, lost 
 
 To be belov'd of God, I have not lost 
 
 To love, at least contemplate and admire 
 
 What I see excellent in good, or fair, 
 
 Or virtuous ; I should so have lost all sense. 
 
 What can be then less in me than desire 
 
 To see thee and approach thee, whom I know 
 
 Declar'd the Son of God, to hear attest 
 
 Thy wisdom, and behold thy godlike deeds ? 
 
 Men generally think me much a foe 
 
 To all mankind ; why should I ? They to me 
 
 Never did wrong or violence : by them 
 
 I lost not what I lost ; rather by them 
 
 I gain'd what I have gain'd, and with them dwell 
 
 Copartner in these regions of the world, 
 
 If not disposer ; lend them oft my aid, 
 
 Oft my advice, by presages and signs, 
 
 And answers, oracles, portents and dreams, 
 
 Whereby they may direct their future life. 
 
 Envy they say excites me thus to gain 
 
 Companions of my misery and wo. 
 
 At first it may be ; but long since with wo 
 
 Nearer acquainted, now I feel, by proof, 
 
 That fellowship in pain divides not smart, 
 
 Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load. 
 
 Small consolation then, were man adjoin'd : 
 
 This wounds me most, (what can it less ?) that man,. 
 
 Man fallen shall be restor'd, I never more. 
 
 To whom our Saviour sternly thus replied : 
 Deservedly thou griev'st, compos'd of lies 
 From the beginning, and in lies wilt end ; 
 Who boasts release from hell, and leave to come 
 [nto the heaven of heavens : thou com'st indeed 
 A.S a poor miserable captive-thrall 
 Comes to the place where he before had sat 
 Among the prime in splendour, now depos'd, 
 Ejectedj emptied, gaz'd unpitied, shunn'd, 
 
16 PAR.A.DISE REGAINfii). [fiOOlt I. 
 
 A spectacle of ruin or of scorn 
 
 To all the host of heaven ; the happy place 
 
 Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy, 
 
 Rather inflames thy torment representing 
 
 Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable, 
 
 So never more in hell than when in heaven* 
 
 But thou art serviceable to heaven's King* 
 
 Wilt thou impute t' obedience what thy fear 
 
 Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites ? 
 
 What but thy malice mov'd thee to misdeem 
 
 Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afliict him 
 
 With all inflictions ? but his patience won. 
 
 The other service was thy chosen task 
 
 To be a liar in four hundred mouths ; 
 
 For lying is thy sustenance, thy food. 
 
 Yet thou pretend'st to truth ; all oecacles 
 
 By thee are given, and what confess'd more true 
 
 Among the nations ? that hath been thy craft, 
 
 By mixing somewhat true to vent more lies. 
 
 But what have been thy answers, what but dark, 
 
 Ambiguous, and with double sense deluding ; 
 
 Which they who ask'd have seldom understood, 
 
 And not well understood as good not known ? 
 
 Whoever by consulting at thy shrine 
 
 Return'd the wiser, or the more instruct 
 
 To fly or follow what concern'd him most, 
 
 And run not sooner to his fatal snare ? 
 
 For God hath justly given the nations up 
 
 To thy delusions ; justly, since they fell 
 
 Idolatrous : but when his purpose is 
 
 Among them to declare his providence 
 
 To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy trMtJ», 
 
 But from him, or his angels president 
 
 In every province ? who themselves disdainin^f 
 
 T' approach thy temples, give thee in command 
 
 What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say 
 
 To thy adorers ; thou, with trembling tear. 
 
 Or, like a fawning parasite obey'st • 
 
 Then to thyself ascrib'st the truth foretold. 
 
BOOK I.J PASADISE REGAINED. 17 
 
 But this thy glory shall be soon retrench'd ; 
 
 No more shalt thou by oracle abuse 
 
 The Gentiles ; henceforth oracles are ceas'd, 
 
 And thou no more with pomp and sacrifice 
 
 Shah be inquir'd at Delphos or else where ; 
 
 At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute. 
 
 God hath now sent his Living Oracle 
 
 Into the world to teach his final will, 
 
 A^d sends his Spirit of Truth henceforth to dwell 
 
 In pious hearts, an inward oracle 
 
 To all truth requisite for men to know. 
 
 So spake our Saviour ; but the subtle fiend, 
 Though inly stung with anger and disdain, 
 Dissembled, and this answer smooth returned : 
 
 Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke, 
 And urg'd me hard with doings, which not will, 
 Bat misery, hath wrested from me ; where 
 Easily canst thou find one miserable, 
 And not enforc'd oft-times to part from truth ; 
 If it may stand him more in stead to lie. 
 Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure ? 
 But thou art plac'd above me, thou art Lord ; 
 From thee I can and must submiss endure 
 Check or reproof, and glad to scape so quit. 
 Hard are the ways of Truth, and rough to walk : 
 Smooth on the tongue discoursed, pleasing to th' ear 
 And tunable as sylvan pipe or song ; 
 What wonder then if I delight to hear 
 Her dictates from thy mouth ? Most men admire 
 Virtue, who follow not her lore : permit me 
 To hear thee when I come (since no man comes) 
 And talk at least, though I despair t' attain. 
 Thy Father, who is holy, wise, and pure, 
 Suffers the hypocrite or atheous priest 
 To tread his sacred courts, and minister 
 About his altar, handling holy things. 
 Praying, or vowing, and vouchsaf 'd his voice 
 To Baalam reprobate, a prophet yet 
 Inspir'd : disdain not such access to m© 
 B* 
 
18 PARADISE SE GAINED. [bOOK I 
 
 To whom our Saviour with unaltered brow : 
 Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope 
 I bid not or forbid ; do as thou find'st 
 Permission from above ; thou canst not more. 
 
 He added not ; and Satan, bowing low 
 His grey dissimulation, disappeared 
 Into thin air diffus'd : for now began 
 Night with her sullen wings to -double shade 
 The desert ; fowls in their clay nests were couched 
 And now wild beasts came forth the woods tt 
 roam. 
 
 END OF BOOK FIRST. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Meanwhile the new baptiz'd, who yet remain 'd 
 
 At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen 
 
 Him whom they heard so late expressly call'd 
 
 Jesus, Messiah, Son of God declar'd ; 
 
 And on that high authority had believed, 
 
 And with him talk'd, and with him lodg'd, (I mean 
 
 Andrew and Simon, famous after known. 
 
 With others, though in holy writ not nam'd,) 
 
 Now missing him, their joy so lately found, 
 
 So lately found, and so abruptly gone, 
 
 Began to doubt, and doubted many days. 
 
 And as the days increas'd, increas'd their doubt : 
 
 Sometimes they thought he might be only shown 
 
 And for a time caught up to God, as once 
 
 Moses was in the mount, and missing long ; 
 
 And the great Thisbite, who on fiery wheels 
 
 Rode up to heaven, yet once again to come. 
 
 Therefore as those young prophets then with care 
 
 Sought lost Elijah, so in each place these 
 
 Nigh to Bethabara ; in Jericho, 
 
 The city of Palms, iEnon and Salem old, 
 
 Machajrus, and each town or city wall'd 
 
 On this side the broad lake Genezaret, 
 
 Or in Perea ; but returned in vain. 
 
 Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek, 
 
20 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK IL 
 
 Where winds with reeds and osiers whisp'ring play, 
 Plain fishermen, no greater men them call. 
 Close in a cottage low together got, 
 Their unexpected loss and plaints outbreath'd : 
 
 Alas from what high hope to what relapse 
 Unlook'd for are we fallen ? our eyes beheld 
 Messiah certainly now come, so long 
 Expected of our fathers ; we have heard 
 His words, his wisdom, full of grace and truth ; 
 Now, now, for sure deliverance is at hand, 
 The kingdom shall to Israel be restored : 
 Thus we rejoic'd, but soon our joy is turn'd 
 Into perplexity and new amaze : 
 For whither is he gone, wha.t accident 
 Hath rapt him from us ? will he now retire 
 After appearance, and igain prolong 
 Our expectation ? God of Israel, 
 Send thy Messiah forth, ihe time is come ; 
 Behold the kings of th' earta how they oppress 
 Thy chosen, to what heights their power unjust 
 They have exalted, and behind them cast 
 All fear of thee : arise and vindicate 
 Thy glory, free thy people from their yoke. 
 But let us wait ; thus far he hath performed* 
 Sent his anointed, and to us revealed him, 
 By his great Prophet, pointed at and shown 
 In public, and with him we have convers'd ; 
 Let us be glad of this, and all our fears 
 Lay on his providence ; he will not fail, 
 Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recal, 
 Meek us with his bless'd sight, then snatch biir 
 
 hence ; 
 -^oon we shall see our hope, our joy, return. 
 
 Thus they out of their plaints new hope resume 
 To find whom at the first they found unsought : 
 But to his mother Mary, when she saw 
 Others return'd from baptism not her son, 
 Nor left at Jordan, tidings of him none, 
 Within her breast tho' calm, her breast tho' pure, 
 
BOOK U.] PARADISE REGAINED. 21 
 
 Motherly cares and fears got head, and rais'd 
 Some troubled thoughts, which she in sighs thus 
 clad : 
 O what avails me now that honour high 
 To have conceiv'd of God, or that salute, 
 Hail highly favour'd among women bless'd ! 
 While I to sorrows am no less advanc'd, 
 And fears as eminent, above the lot 
 Of other women, by the birth I bore 
 In such a season born, when scarce a shed 
 Could be obtain'd to shelter him or me 
 From the bleak air ; a stable was our warmth, 
 A manger his ; yet soon enforc'd to fly 
 Thence into Egypt, till the murd'rous king 
 Were dead, who sought his life, and missing fiU'd 
 With infant blood the streets of Bethlehem : 
 From Egypt home return'd ; in Nazareth 
 Hath been our dwelling many years ; his life 
 Private, unactive, calm, contemplative, 
 Little suspicious to any king ; but now 
 Full grown to man acknowledg'd as I hear, 
 By John the Baptist, and in public shown, 
 Son own'd from heaven by his Father's voice ; 
 I look'd for some great change : to honour ? no, 
 But trouble ; as old Simeon plain foretold, 
 That to the fall and rising he should be 
 Of many in Israel and to a sign 
 Spoken against, that through my very soul 
 A sword shall pierce. This is my favour'd lot, 
 My exaltation to afflictions high : 
 Afflicted I may be, it seems, and bless'd : 
 I will not argue that, nor will repine : 
 But where delays he now ? some great intent 
 Conceals him. When twelve years he scarce had seen, 
 I lost him, but so found, as well I saw 
 He could not lose himself ; but went about 
 His Father's business ; what he meant I mus'd. 
 Since understand ; much more his absence now, 
 Thus long to some great purpose he .obscures. 
 
22 I*ARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK D 
 
 But I to wait with patience am inur'd : 
 
 My heart hath been a store-house long of things 
 
 And sayings laid up, portending strange events. 
 
 Thus Mary, pondering oft, and oft to mind 
 Recalling what remarkably had pass'd 
 Since first her salutation heard, with thoughts 
 Meekly compos'd awaited the fulfiling : 
 The while her Son tracing the desert wild ; 
 Sole, but with holiest meditations fed, 
 Into himself descended, and at once 
 All his great work to come before him set j 
 How to begin, how to accomplish best 
 His end of being on earth, and mission high : 
 For Satan with sly preface to return 
 Had left him vacant and with speed was gone 
 Up to the middle region of thick air, 
 Where all his potentates in council sat ; 
 There without sign of boast, or sign of joy, 
 Solicitious and blank, he thus began : 
 
 Princes, heaven's ancient sons, ethereal thrones 
 Demonian spirits now, from th' element 
 Each of his reign allotted, rightlier call'd 
 Pow'rs of fire, air, water, and earth beneath, 
 So may we hold our place and these mild seats 
 Without new trouble ; such an enemy 
 Is risen to invade us, who no less 
 Threatens than our expulsion down to hell : 
 I, as I undertook, and with the vote 
 Consenting in full frequence was impower'd, 
 Have found him, view'd him, tasted him, but find 
 Far other labour to be undergone 
 Than when I dealt with Adam, first of men, 
 Though Adam by his wife's allurement fell, 
 However to this man inferior far. 
 If he be man by mother's side at least. 
 With more than human gifts from heaven adorn' d, 
 Perfections absolute, graces divine 
 And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds : 
 Therefore I am returned, lest confidence 
 
BOOK n.] PAftADlSfi REGAINED. 23 
 
 Of my success with Eve in Paradise 
 
 Deceive ye to persuasion over-sure 
 
 Of like succeeding here ; I summon all 
 
 Rather to he in readiness, with hand 
 
 Or counsel to assist ; lest I, who erst 
 
 Thought none my equal, now be over-match'd. 
 
 So spake th' old Serpent doubting, and from all 
 With clamour was assur'd their utmost aid 
 At his command ; when from amidst them rose 
 Belial, the dissolutest spirit that fell, 
 The sensuallest, and after Asmodai 
 The fleshliest incubus, and thus advis'd : 
 
 Set women in his eye and in his walk 
 Among daughters of men the fairest found ; 
 Many are in each region passing fair 
 As the noon sky ,« more like to goddesses 
 Than mortal creatures, graceful and discreet 
 Expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues 
 Persuasive, virgin majesty with mild 
 And sweet allay 'd, yet terrible to approach, 
 Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw 
 Hearts after them tangled in amorous nets. 
 Such objects hath the power to soften and tame 
 Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow, 
 Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, 
 Draw out with credulous desire, and lead 
 At will the manliest, resolutest breast, 
 As the magnetic hardest iron draws. 
 Women, when nothing else, beguil'd the heart 
 Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, 
 And made him bow to the gods of his wives. 
 
 To whom quick answer Satan thus return'd : 
 Belial, in much uneven scale thou weigh'st 
 All others by thyself: because of old 
 Thou thyself doat'dst on womankind, admiring 
 Their shape, their colour, and attractive grace, 
 None are, thou think'st but taken with such toys. 
 Before the flood, thou, with thy lusty crew. 
 False titled sons of God, roaming the earth, 
 
24 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK H 
 
 Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, 
 
 And coupled with them, and begot a race. 
 
 Have not we seen, or by relation heard. 
 
 In courts and regal chambers how thou lurk'st 
 
 In wood, or grove, by mossy fountain side : 
 
 In valley, or green meadow, to way-lay 
 
 Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene> 
 
 Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa, 
 
 Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more 
 
 Too long, then lay'st thy 'scapes on names ador'dj^ 
 
 Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, 
 
 Satyr, or Faun, or Sylvan ? But these haunts 
 
 Delight not all ; among the sons of men» 
 
 How many have with a smile made small account 
 
 Of beauty and her lures, easily scorn'd 
 
 All her assaults, on worthier things intent ? 
 
 Remember that Pellean conquerer, 
 
 A youth, how all the beauties of the east 
 
 He slightly view'd, and slightly overpass'd : 
 
 How he surnam'd of Africa, dismiss'd 
 
 In his prime youth the fair Iberian maid. 
 
 For Solomon, he liv'd at ease, and full 
 
 Of honour, wealth high fare, aim'd not beyond 
 
 Higher design than to enjoy his state; 
 
 Thence to the bait of woman lay expos'd : 
 
 But he whom we attempt, is wiser far 
 
 Than Solomom, of more exalted mind, 
 
 Made and set wholly on th' accomplishment 
 
 Of greatest things : what woman will you find, 
 
 Though of this age the wonder and the fame. 
 
 On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye 
 
 Of fond desire ? or should she confident, 
 
 As sitting queen ador'd on beauty's throne, 
 
 Descend with all her winning charms begirt 
 
 To enamour, as the zone of Venus once 
 
 Wrought that effect on Jove, so fables tell ; 
 
 How would one look from his majestic brow 
 
 Seated as on the top of virtue's hill, 
 
 Discount'nance her despis'd, and put to rout 
 
liOOK II.] PARADISE REGAINEI}. ^ 
 
 All her array ; her female pride deject, 
 
 Or turn to reverent awe ? For beauty stands 
 
 In th' admiration only of weak minds 
 
 Led captive ; cease to admire, and all her plumes 
 
 Fall flat, and shrink into a trivial toy. 
 
 At every sudden slighting quite abash'd : 
 
 Therefore, with manlier objects we must try 
 
 His constancy, with such as have more show 
 
 Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise ; 
 
 Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd ; 
 
 Or that which only seems to satisfy 
 
 Lawful desires of nature, not beyond : 
 
 And now I know he hungers where no food 
 
 Is to be found, in the wide wilderness : 
 
 The rest commit to me, I shall let pass 
 
 No advantage, and his strength as oft assay. 
 
 He ceas'd, and heard their grant in loud acclaim : 
 Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band 
 Of spirits likest to himself in guile 
 To be at hand, and at his beck appear, 
 If cause were to unfold some active scene 
 Of various persons, each to know his part ; 
 Then to the desert takes with these his flight ; 
 Where still from shade to shade the Son of God 
 After forty days fasting, had remain'd. 
 Now hung'ring first, and to himself thus said : 
 
 Where will this end ? Four times ten days I've 
 pass'd 
 Wand'ring this woody maze, and human food 
 Nor tasted, nor had appetite ; that fast 
 To virtue I impute not, or count part 
 Of what I suffer here ; if nature need not, 
 Or God support nature without repast 
 Though needing, what praise is it to endure ? 
 But now I feel I hunger, which declares 
 Nature hath need of what she asks ; yet God 
 Can satisfy that need some other way, 
 Though hunger still remain ; so it remain 
 Without this body's wasting, I content me, 
 C 
 
S6 PARADISE EEGAINED. [bOOK II 
 
 And from the sting of famine, fear no harm 
 Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts that feed 
 Me, hung'ring more to do my Father's will." 
 
 It was the hour of night, when thus the Son 
 Commun'd in silent walk, then laid him down 
 Under the hospitable covert nigh 
 Of trees thick interwoven ; there he slept. 
 And dream'd, as appetite is wont to dream, 
 Of meats and drinks, nature's refreshment sweet ; 
 Him thought he by the brook of Cherith stood, 
 And saw the ravens with their horny beaks 
 Food to Elijah bringing even and morn. 
 Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they 
 
 brought : 
 He saw the prophet also how he fled 
 Into the desert, and how there he slept 
 Under a juniper; then how awak'd 
 He found his supper on the coals prepar'd, 
 And by the angel was bid rise and eat, 
 And eat the second time after repose, 
 The strength whereof suffic'd him forty days ; 
 Sometimes that with Elijah he partook, 
 Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse. 
 Thus wore out night ; and now the herald lark 
 Left his ground nest, high tow'ring to descry 
 The morn's approach, and greet her with his song • 
 As lightly from his grassy couch up rose 
 Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream, 
 Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting wak'd : 
 Up to a hill anon his steps he rear'd. 
 From whose high top to ken the prospect round, 
 If cottage were in view, sheep-cote or herd ; 
 But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote none he saw ; 
 Only in a bottom saw a pleasant grov?, 
 With chaunt of tuneful birds resounding loud : 
 Thither he bent his way, determin'd there 
 To rest at noon, and enter'd soon the shade 
 High roof 'd, and walks beneath, and alleys brown, 
 Thai open'd in the midst a woody scene : 
 
BOOK n. I PARADISE REGAINED. 27 
 
 Nature's own work it seem'd, (nature taught art ;) 
 
 And to a superstitious eye the haunt 
 
 Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs : he view'd it round, 
 
 When suddenly a man before him stood, 
 
 Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad. 
 
 As one in city, or court, or palace bred : 
 
 And with fair speech these words to him address'd : 
 
 With granted leave officious I return, 
 But much more wonder that the Son of God 
 In this wild solitude so long should bide 
 Of all things destitute, and well I know 
 Not without hunger. Others of some note 
 As story tells, have trod this wilderness ; 
 The fugitive bond-woman with her son, 
 Outcast Nebaioth, yet found here relief 
 By a providing angel ; all the race 
 Of Israel here had famish'd, had not God 
 Rain'd from heaven manna ; and that prophet bold, 
 Native of Thebez, wand'ving here was fed 
 Twice by a voice inviting him to eat : 
 Of thee these forty days none hath regard, 
 Forty and more deserted here indeed. 
 
 To whom thus Jesus : what conclud'st thou hence ' 
 They all had need, I as thou seest have none. 
 
 How hast thou hunger then ? Satan replied : 
 Tell me if food were now before thee set 
 Wouldst thou not eat ? Thereafter as I like 
 The giver, answer 'd Jesus. Why should tha 
 Cause thy refusal ? said the subtle fiend. 
 Hast thou not right to all created things ?. 
 Owe not all creatures by just right to thee 
 Duty and service, not to stay till bid. 
 But tender all their power ? Nor mention I 
 Meats by the law unclean, or offer'd first 
 To idols, those young Daniel could refuse ; 
 Nor profier'd by an enemy ; though who 
 Would scruple that, with want oppress'd ? Behold 
 Nature asham'd, or better to express. 
 Troubled that thou shouldst hunger, hath purvey'd 
 
28 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK l\. 
 
 From all the elements her choicest store 
 To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord 
 With honour, only deign to sit and eat. 
 
 He spake no dream ; for as his words had end, 
 Our Saviour, lifting up his eyes, beheld 
 In ample space, under the broadest shade, 
 A table richly spread in regal mode, 
 With dishes pil'd, and meats of noblest sort 
 And savour, beasts of chace, or fowl of game, 
 In pastry built, or from the spit, or boil'd, 
 Gris-amber-steam'd ; all fish from sea or shore, 
 Freshet, or purling brook, of shell or fin, 
 And exquisitest name, for which was drain'd 
 Pontus, and Lucrine bay, and Afric coast. 
 Alas ! how simple, to these cates compar'd, 
 Was that crude apple that diverted Eve I 
 And at a stately side-board, by the wine, 
 That fragrant smell diffus'd, in order stood 
 Tall stripling youths, rich clad, of fairer hue 
 Than Ganymede or Hylas ; distant more 
 Under the trees, now tripp'd, now solemn stood. 
 Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades 
 With fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn, 
 And ladies of th' Hesperides, that seem'd 
 Fairer than feign'd of old, or fabled since 
 Of fairy damsels met in forests wide 
 By knights of Logres, oi; of Lyones, 
 Lancelot, or Pelleas, or Pellenore : 
 And all the while harmonious airs were heard 
 Of chyming strings, or charming pipes, and winds 
 Of gentlest gales Arabian odours fann'd 
 From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells. 
 Such was the splendour, and the Tempter now 
 His invitation earnestly renew'd : 
 
 What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat ? 
 These are not fruits forbidden ; no interdict 
 Defends the touching of these viands pure ; 
 Their taste no knowledge works at least of evil. 
 But life preserves, destroys life's enemy, 
 
BOOK U.] PARADISE REGAINED. 29 
 
 Hunger, with sweet restorative delight. 
 
 All these are spirits of air, and woods, and springs, 
 
 Thy gentle ministers, who come to pay 
 
 Thee homage, and acknowledge thee their Lord ; 
 
 "What doubt'st thou. Son of God? sit down and eat. 
 
 To whom thus Jesus temp'rately replied : 
 Said'st thou not that to all things I had right ? 
 And who withholds my power that right to use : 
 Shall I receive by gift what of my own, 
 When and where likes me best, I can command ? 
 I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou, 
 Command a table in this wilderness, 
 And call swift flights of angels ministrant, 
 Array'd in glory, on my cup t' attend : 
 Why shouldst thou then obtrude this diligence, 
 In vain, where no acceptance it can find ? 
 And with my hunger what hast thou to do ? 
 Thy pompous delicacies I contemn. 
 And count thy specious gifts no gifts, but guile. 
 
 To whom thus answer'd Satan malcontent : 
 That I have also power to give thou seest ; 
 If of that power I bring thee voluntary 
 What I might have bestow'd on whom I pleas'd^ 
 And rather ^opportunely in this place 
 Chose to impart to thy apparent need. 
 Why shouldst thou not accept it ? But I see 
 What I can do or offer is suspect ; 
 Of these things others quickly will dispose, 
 Whose pains have earn'd the far fetcht spoil. 
 With that both table and provision vanish'd quite, 
 With sound of harpies' wings, and talons heard : 
 Only th' importune Tempter sill remain'd. 
 And with these words his temptation pursu'd : 
 
 By hunger, that each other creature tames, 
 Thou art not to be harm'd, therefore not mov'd t 
 Thy temperance invincible besides. 
 For no allurement yields to appetite. 
 And all thy heart is set on high designs, 
 High actions ; but wherewith to be achiev'd ? 
 
30 PAIEiADISE BEGAINED. [BOOK U 
 
 Great acts require great means of enterprize ; 
 Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth, 
 A carpenter thy father known, thyself 
 Bred up in poverty and straits at home, 
 Lost in a desert here, and hunger-bit ; 
 AVhich way or from what hope dost thou aspire 
 To greatness ? whence authority deriv'st ? 
 What followers, what retinue canst thou gain. 
 Or at thy heels the dizzy multitude, 
 Longer than thou canst feed them on thy cost ? 
 Money brings honour, friends, conquest, and realms. 
 What rais'd Antipater, the Edomite, 
 And his son Herod plac'd on Juda's throne, 
 (Thy throne) but gold, that got him puissant friends ? 
 Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive, 
 Get riches first, get wealth and treasure heap, 
 Not difficult, if thou hearken to me : 
 Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand ; 
 They whom I favour thrive in wealth amain. 
 While virtue, valour, wisdom, sit in want. 
 To whom thus Jesus patiently replied : 
 Yet wealth without these three is impotent 
 To gain dominion, or to keep it gain'd. 
 Witness those ancient empires of the earth, 
 In height of all their flowing wealth dissolv'd: 
 But men endu'd with these have oft attain'd 
 In lowest poverty to highest deeds ; 
 Gideon and Jephtha, and the shepherd lad, 
 Whose offspring on the throne of Judah sat 
 So many ages, and shall yet regain 
 That seat, and reign in Israel without end. 
 Among the Heathen, (for throughout the world 
 To me is not unknown what hath been done 
 Worthy of memorial,) canst thou not remember 
 Quintius, Fabricius, Curius, Regulus ? 
 For I esteem those names of men so poor 
 Who could do mighty things, and could contemn 
 Riches, though offer'd from the hand of kings. 
 And what in me seems wanting but that I 
 
BOOK n.] PARADISE REGAINED. 3l 
 
 May also in this poverty as soon 
 
 Accomplish what they dfd perhaps, and more ? 
 
 Extol not riches then, the toil of fools. 
 
 The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare, more apt 
 
 To slacken virtue, and abate her edge, 
 
 Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise. 
 
 What if with like aversion I reject 
 
 Riches and realms ; yet not for that, a crown 
 
 Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns. 
 
 Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights 
 
 To him who wears the regal diadem, 
 
 When on his shoulders each man's burden lies ; 
 
 For therein stands the office of a king, 
 
 His honour, virtue, merit, and chief praise, 
 
 That for the public all this weight he bears, 
 
 Yet he who reigns within himself, and rules 
 
 Passions, desires, and fears, is more a king ; 
 
 Which every wise and virtuous man attains ; 
 
 And who attains not, ill aspires to rule 
 
 Cities of men, or headstrong multitudes. 
 
 Subject himself to anarchy within, 
 
 Or lawless passions in him which he serves. 
 
 But to guide nations in the way of truth 
 
 By saving doctrine, and from error lead 
 
 To know, and knowing, worship God aright, 
 
 Is yet more kingly : this attracts the soul, 
 
 Governs the inner man, the nobler part; 
 
 That other o'er the- body only reigns. 
 
 And oft by force, -^ich to a generous mind 
 
 So Vvi^mar, can be no sincere delight. 
 
 iSesiuefc,, .c give a kingdom hath been thought 
 
 Greater and nobler done, and to lay down 
 
 Far more magnanimous than to assume. 
 
 Riches are needless then, both for themselves, 
 
 And for thy reason why they should be sought, 
 
 To gain a sceptre, oftest better miss'd. 
 
 END OF BOOK SECOr^D. 
 
 J 
 
'* 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 So spake the Son of God, and Satan stood 
 A while as mute, confounded what to say, 
 What to reply, confuted, and convinc'd 
 Of his weak arguing, and fallacious drift ; 
 At length, collecting all his serpent wiles, 
 With soothing words renew'd, him thus >aocosts : 
 
 I see thou know'st what is of use to know. 
 What best to say canst say, to do canst do ; 
 Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words 
 To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heait 
 Contains of good,, wise, just, the perfect shape. 
 Should kings and nations from thy mouth consult, 
 Thy counsel would be as the oracle 
 Urim and Thummim, those oraculous gems 
 On Aaron's breast ; or tongue of seers old, 
 Infallible : or wert thou sought to deeds 
 That might require th' array of war, thy skill 
 Of conduct would be such, that all the world 
 Could not sustain thy prowess, or subsist 
 In battle, though against thy few in arms. 
 These godlike virtues wherefore dost thou hide, 
 Affecting private life, or more obscure 
 In savage wilderness ? wherefore deprive 
 All earth her wonder at thy acts, thyself 
 The fame and glory, glory the reward 
 
84 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK III. 
 
 That sole excites to high attempts, the fiame 
 Of most erected spirits, most temper'd pure 
 Etherial, who all pleasures else despise, 
 All treasures and all gain esteem as dross, 
 And dignities and powers all but the highest ? 
 Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe ; the son 
 Of Macedonian Philip had ere these 
 Won Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held 
 At his dispose ; ^''oung Scipio had brought down 
 The Carthaginian pride ; young Pompey quell'd 
 The Pontic king, and in triumph had rode. 
 Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature, 
 Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment. 
 Great Julius, whom now all the world admires, 
 The more he grew in years, the more inflam'd 
 With glory, wept that he had liv'd so long 
 Inglorious but thou yet art not too late. 
 
 To whom our Saviour calmly thus replied: 
 Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth 
 For empire's sake, nor empire to affect 
 For glory's sake, by all thy argument. 
 For what is glory but the blaze of fame. 
 The people's praise, if always praise unmix'd ? 
 And what the people but a herd confus'd, 
 A miscellaneous rabble, who extol 
 Things vulgar, and well weigh'd, scarce worth the 
 
 praise ? 
 They praise, and they admire they know not what, 
 And know not whom, but as one leads the other * 
 And what delight to be by such extol'd. 
 To live upon their tongues, and be their talk, 
 Df whom to be disprais'd were no small praise ' 
 His lot who dares be singularly good. 
 Th' intelligent among them and the wise 
 Are few, and glory scarce of few is rais'd. 
 This is true glory and renown, when God 
 Looking on th' earth, with approbation marks 
 The just man, and divulges him through heaven 
 To all his angels, who with true applause 
 
BOOK Til.] PARADISE REGAINED. 35 
 
 Recount his praises : thus he did to Job, 
 
 When to extend his fame through heaven and earth. 
 
 As thou to thy reproach may'st well remember, 
 
 He ask'd thee, Hast thou seen my servant Job ^ 
 
 Famous he was in heaven, on earth less known ; 
 
 Where glory is false glory, attributed 
 
 To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. 
 
 They err who count it glorious to subdue 
 
 By conquest far and wide, to over-run 
 
 Large countries, and in field great battles win, 
 
 Great cities by assault : what do these worthies, 
 
 But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave 
 
 Peaceable nations neighb'ring or remote. 
 
 Made captive ; yet deserving freedom more 
 
 Than those their conquerors, who leave behind 
 
 Nothing but ruin wheresoe'er they rove, 
 
 And all the flourishing works of peace destroy, 
 
 Then swell with pride, and must be titled gods, 
 
 Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers, 
 
 Worshipp'd with temple, priest, and sacrifice ? 
 
 One is the son of Jove, of Mars the other ; 
 
 Till conqu'ror Death discovers them scarce men, 
 
 Rolling in brutish vices, and deform'd, 
 
 Violent or shameful death their due reward. 
 
 But if there be in glory aught of good, 
 
 It may by means far different be attain'd. 
 
 Without ambition, war, or violence j 
 
 By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent. 
 
 By patience, temperance : I mention still 
 
 Him whom thy wrongs, with saintly patience borne, 
 
 Made famous in a land and times obscure ; 
 
 Who names not now with honour patient Job ? 
 
 Poor Socrates, (who next more memorable ?) 
 
 By what he taught, and suffer 'd for so doing, 
 
 For truth's sake suffering death unjust, lives now 
 
 Equal in fame to proudest conquerors. 
 
 Vet, if for fame and glory aught be done, 
 
 Aught suffer'd ; if young African for fame 
 
 His wasted country freed from Punic rage. 
 
3(5 PARADiSE REGAINED* [bOOK HI 
 
 Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek, 
 Oft not deserved ? I seek not mine, but his 
 Who sent me, and thereby -witness whence I am. 
 
 To whom the Tempter murm'ring thus replied : 
 Think not so slight of glory ; therein least 
 Resembling thy great Father : he seeks glory, 
 And for his glory all things made, all things 
 Orders and governs ; nor content in heaven, 
 By all his angels glorified, requires 
 Glory from men, from all men, good or bad. 
 Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption ; 
 Above all sacrifice, or hallow'd gift, 
 Glory he requires, and glory he receives 
 Promiscuous from all nations, Jew or Greek, 
 Or barbarous, nor exception hath declar'd : 
 From us his foes pronounc'd, glory he exacts. 
 
 To whom our Saviour fervently replied : 
 And reason ; since his Wbrd all things produc'd, 
 Though chiefly not for glory as prime end, 
 But to show forth his goodness, and impart 
 His good communicable to every soul 
 Freely ; of whom what could he less expect 
 Than glory and benediction, that is, thanks, 
 The slightest, easiest, readiest recompense 
 From them who could return him nothing else, 
 And not returning that, would likeliest render 
 Contempt instead, dishonour, obloquy? 
 Hard recompense, unsuitable return 
 For so much good, so much beneficence, 
 But why should man seek glory, who of his own 
 Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs 
 But condemnation, ignominy, and shame ? 
 Who, for so many benefits receiv'd, 
 Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate and false, 
 And so of all true good himself despoil'd ; 
 Yet sacrilegious, to himself would take 
 That which to God alone of right belongs 
 
BOOK III.] PARADISE KEGAI^'EI>. 37 
 
 Yet so much bounty is in God, such grace, 
 That, who advance his glory not their own, 
 Them he himself to glory will advance. 
 
 So spake the Son of God : and here again 
 Satan had not to answer, bnt stood struck 
 With guilt of his own sin, for he himself, 
 Insatiable of glory, had lost all : 
 Yet of another plea bethought him soon. 
 
 Of glor^r, as thou wilt, said he, so deem ; 
 Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass : 
 But to a kingdom thou art born, ordain'd 
 To sit upon thy father David's throne : 
 By mother's side thy father : though thy right 
 Be now in powerful hands, that will not part 
 Easily from possession won with arms : 
 Judea now, and all the promis'd land, 
 Reduc'd a province under Roman yoke, 
 Obeys Tiberius : nor is always rul'd 
 With temp'rate sway ; oft have they violated 
 The temple, oft the law with foul affronts, 
 Abominations rather, as did once 
 Antiochus : and think'st thou to regain 
 Thy right by sitting still, or thus retiring ? 
 So did not Maccabeus : he indeed 
 Hetir'd into the desert but with arms : 
 And o'er a mighty king so oft prevail'd, 
 That by strong hand his family obtain'd, 
 Tho' priests, the crown, and David's throne usurp'd. 
 With Modin and her suburbs once content. 
 If kingdom move thee not, let move thee zeal 
 And duty ; zeal and duty are not slow ; 
 But on occasion's forelock watchful wait« 
 They themselves rather are occasion best, 
 Zeal of thy Father's house, duty to free 
 Thy country from her heathen servitude ; 
 So shalt thou best fulfil, best verify 
 The prophets old, who sung thy endless xeign ; 
 The happier reign the sooner it begins : 
 Reign then ; what canst thou better do the whilo » 
 
38 PARADISE EEGAINED. [BOOK III. 
 
 To whom our Saviour answer thus return*d : 
 All things are best fulfill'd in their due time, 
 And time there is for all things truth hath said. 
 If of my reign prophetic writ hath told 
 That it should never end, so when begin 
 The Father in his purpose hath decreed, 
 He in whose hand all times and seasons roll. 
 What if he hath decreed that I shall first 
 Be tried in humble state, and things adverse, 
 By tribulations, injuries, insults. 
 Contempts and scorns, and snares, and violence, 
 Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting, 
 Without distrust or doubt, that he may know 
 What I can suffer, how obey ? Who best 
 Can suffer, best can do ; best reign, who first 
 Well hath obey'd ; just trial ere I merit 
 My exaltation without change or end. 
 But what concerns it thee when I begin 
 My everlasting kingdom, why art thou 
 Solicitous, what moves thy inquisition ? 
 Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall, 
 And my promotion will be thy destruction ? 
 
 To whom the Tempter, inly rack'd, replied : 
 Let that come when it comes ; all hope is lost 
 Of my reception into grace ; what worse ? 
 For where no hope is left, is left no fear : 
 If there be worse, the expectation more 
 Of worse torments me than the feeling can. 
 I would be at the worst ; worst is my port, 
 My harbour, and niy ultimate repose, 
 The end I would attain, my final good. 
 My error was my error, and my crime 
 My crime ; whatever for itself condemn'd, 
 And will alike be punish'd, whether thou 
 Reign or reign not ; though to that gentle brow 
 Willingly I could fly, and hope thy reign. 
 From that placid aspect and meek regard, 
 Rather than aggravate my evil state, 
 Would stand between me and thy Father'* ire, 
 
dOOK III.] PARADISE REGAINED. 39 
 
 (Whose ire I dreaa more than the fire of hell,) 
 
 A shelter, and a kind of shading cool 
 
 Interposition, as a summer's cloud. 
 
 If I then to the worst that can be haste, 
 
 Why move thy feet so slow to what is best, 
 
 Happiest both to thyself, and all the world, 
 
 That thou who worthiest art shouldst be their King 
 
 Perhaps thou linger'st in deep thoughts detain'd 
 
 Of th' enterprise so hazardous and high ; 
 
 No wonder ; for though in thee be united 
 
 What of perfection can in man be found, 
 
 Or human nature can receive, consider 
 
 Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent 
 
 At home, scarce view'd the Galilean towns, 
 
 And once a year Jerusalem, few days 
 
 Short sojourn ; and what thence couldst thou observe ! 
 
 The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory, 
 
 Empires, and monarchs, and their radiant courts, 
 
 Best school of best experience, quickest insight 
 
 In all things that to greatest actions lead. 
 
 The wisest, unexperienc'd will be ever 
 
 Timorous and loath, with novice modesty, 
 
 (As he who seeking asses found a kingdom,) 
 
 Irresolute, unhardy, unadvent'rous : 
 
 But I will bring thee where thou soon shall quit 
 
 Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes 
 
 The monarchies of th' earth, their pomp and state, 
 
 Sufficient introduction to inform 
 
 Thee, of thyself so apt in regal arts, 
 
 And regal mysteries, that thou may'st know 
 
 How best their opposition to withstand. 
 
 With that (such power was given him then) he lock 
 
 The Son of God up to a mountain high. 
 
 It was a mountain at whose verdant feet 
 
 A spacious plain, outstretch'd in circuit wide, 
 
 Lay pleasant ; from his side two rivers flow'd, 
 
 Th' one winding, th' other straight, and left between 
 
 Fair champaign, with less rivers interven'd, 
 
 Then meeting, join'd their tribute to the sep j 
 
40 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK IH. 
 
 Fertile of corn the glebe, of oil and wine ; 
 
 With herds the pastures throng'd, with flocks the 
 
 hills; 
 Huge cities, and high tower'd, that well might seem 
 The seats of mightiest monarchs ; and so large 
 The prospect was, that here and there was room 
 For barren desert, fountainless and dry. 
 To this high mountain top the Tempter brought 
 Our Saviour, and new train of words began : 
 
 Well have we speeded, and o'er hill and dale, 
 Forest, and field, and flood, temples and towers, 
 Cut shorter many a league; here thou behold'st 
 Assyria and her empire's ancient bounds, 
 Araxes and the Caspian lake ; thence on 
 As far as Indus east, Euphrates west. 
 And oft beyond; to south the Persian bay, 
 And inaccessible the Arabian drouth : 
 Here Nineveh, of length Avithin her wall 
 Several days journey, built by Ninus old. 
 Of that first golden monarchy the seat. 
 And seat of Salmanassar, whose success 
 Israel in long captivity still mourns ; 
 There Babylon, the wonder of all tongues, 
 As ancient, but rebuilt by him who twice 
 Judah and all thy father David's house 
 Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste. 
 Till Cyrus set them free ; Persepolis 
 His city there thou seest, and Bactra there : 
 Ecbatana her structure vast there showsj 
 And Hecatompylos her hundred gates ; 
 There Susa by Choaspes' amber stream, 
 The drink of none but kings : of later fame, 
 Built by Emathian, or by Parthian hands. 
 The great Seleucia, Nisibis : and there 
 Artaxata, Teredon, Ctesiphcn, 
 Turning with easy eye thou may'st behold. 
 All these the Parthian, now some ages past, 
 By great Arsaces led, who founded first 
 That empire, under his dominion holds, 
 
BOOK in.] rAKADlSE KEGAINEJJ. 41 
 
 From the luxurious kings of AntiQch won. 
 
 And just in time thou com'st to have a vie^y 
 
 Of his great power ; for now the Parthian king 
 
 In Ctesiphon hath gather'd all his host 
 
 Against the Scythian, whose incursions wild 
 
 Have wasted Sogdiana ; to her aid 
 
 He marches now in haste ; see, though from far 
 
 His thousands, in what martial equipage 
 
 They issue forth, steel bows and shafts their arms ; 
 
 Of equal dread in flight, or in pursuit ; 
 
 All horsemen, in which fight they most excel ; 
 
 See how in warlike muster they appear, 
 
 In rhombs and wedges, and half-moons, and wingst 
 
 He look'd, and saw what numbers numberless 
 The city gates out-pour'd, light armed troops 
 In coats of mail and military pride ; 
 In mail their horses clad, yet fleet and strong, 
 Prancing their riders bore, the flower and choice 
 Of many provinces from bound to bound ; 
 From Arachosia, from Candaor east. 
 And Margiana, to the Hyrcanian clifis 
 Of Caucasus, -and dark Iberian dales ; 
 From Atropatia, and the neighb'ring plains 
 Of Adiabene, Media, and the south 
 Of Susiana, to Balsara's heaven. 
 He saw them in their forms of batde rang'd, 
 How quick they wheel'd, and flying behind them shot 
 Sharp sleet of arrowy showers against the face 
 Of their pursuers, and overcame by flight ; 
 The field, all iron, cast a gleaming brown ; 
 Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn 
 Cuirassiers all in steel for standing fight, 
 Chariots or elephants indors'd with tqwejs 
 Of archers, nor of lab'ring pionee-rs 
 A multitude, with spades and axes arm'd 
 To lay hills plain, fell woods, or valleys fill, 
 Or where plain was, raise hill, or overlay 
 With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke; 
 
42 PARADISE REGAINED. [boOK III. 
 
 Mules after these, camels and dromedaries, 
 And wagons fraught with utensils of war. 
 Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp. 
 When Agrican with all his northern powers 
 Besieg'd Albracca, as romances tell, 
 The city of Gallaphrone, from whence to win 
 The fairest of her sex Angelica 
 His daughter, sought by many prowest knights, 
 Both Paynim, and the peers of Charlemaine. 
 Such and so numerous was their chivalry : 
 At sight whereof the fiend yet more presum'd. 
 And to our Saviour thus his words renew'd : 
 
 That thou may'st know I seek not to engage 
 Thy virtue, and not every way secure 
 On no slight grounds thy safety ; hear, and mark 
 To what end I have brought thee hither, and shown 
 All this fair sight : thy kingdom, though foretold 
 By prophet or by angel, unless thou 
 Endeavour, as thy father David did, , 
 Thou never shalt obtain ; prediction still 
 In all things, and all m.en, supposes means ; 
 "Without means us'd, what it predicts revokes. 
 But say thou wert possess'd of Da'/id's throne 
 By free consent of all, none opposite, 
 Samaritan or Jew ; how couldst thou hope 
 Long to enjoy it quiet and secure, 
 Between two such enclosing enemies 
 Roman and Parthian ? therefore one of these 
 Thou must make sure thy own, the Parthian first, 
 By my advice, as nearer, and of late 
 Found able by invasion to annoy 
 Thy country, and captive lead away her kings . 
 Antigonus, and old Hyrcanus bound, 
 Maugre the Roman ; it shall be my task 
 To render thee the Parthian at dispose : 
 Choose which thou wilt, by conquest or by league. 
 By him thou shalt regain, without him not, 
 That which alone can truly reinstall thee 
 In David's royal seat, his true SLiccessor, 
 
[book III. PARADISE REGAINED. 4S 
 
 Deliverance of thy brethren, those ten tribes 
 Whose offspring in his territory yet serve, 
 In Habor, and among the Medes dispers'd ; 
 Ten sons of Jacob, two of Joseph lost 
 Thus long from Israel, serving, as of old 
 Their fathers in the land of Egypt serv'd, 
 This offer sets before thee to deliver. 
 These if from servitude thou shalt restore 
 To their inheritance, then, nor till then, 
 Thou on the throne of David in full glory, 
 From Egypt to Euphrates and beyond, 
 Shalt reign, and Rome or Csesar need not fear. 
 
 To whom our Saviour answer'd thus, unmov'd : 
 Much ostentation vain of fleshly arm, 
 And fragile arms, much instrument of war 
 Long in preparing, soon to nothing brought, 
 Before mine eyes thou hast set : and in my ear 
 Vented much policy, and projects deep 
 Of enemies, of aids, battles and leagues, 
 Plausible to the world, to me w^orth nought. 
 Means I must use thou say'st, prediction else 
 Will unpredict, and fail me of the throne : 
 My time I told thee (and that time for thee 
 Were better farthest off) is not yet come : 
 When that comes, think not thou to find me slack 
 On my part aught endeav'ring, or to need 
 Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome 
 Luggage of war there shown me, argument 
 Of human weakness rather than of strength. 
 My brethren, as thou call'st them, those ten tribes, 
 I must deliver, if I mean to reign 
 David's true heir, and his full sceptre sway 
 To just extent over all Israel's sons ; 
 But whence to thee this zeal, where was it then 
 For Isreal or for David, or his throne. 
 When thou stood'st up his tempter to the pride 
 Of numb'ring Israel, which cost the lives 
 Of threescore and ten thousand Israelites 
 By three days' pestilence ? such was thy zeal 
 
44 PARADISE REGAlNfiD. t^OOJ^ UL 
 
 To Israel then, the same that now to me. 
 
 As for those captive tribes, themselves were they 
 
 "Who wrought their own captivity, fell off 
 
 From God to worship calves, the deities 
 
 Of Egypt, Baal next and Ashtaroth, 
 
 And all th' idolatries of Heathen round, 
 
 Besides their other worse than heath'nish crimes ; 
 
 Nor in the land of their captivity 
 
 Humbled themselves, or penitent besought 
 
 The God of their forefathers ; but so died 
 
 Impenitent, and left a race behind 
 
 Like to themselves, distinguishable scarce 
 
 From Gentiles, but by circumcision vain, 
 
 And God with idols to their worship join'd. 
 
 Should I of these the liberty regard. 
 
 Who freed as to their ancient patrimony, 
 
 Unhumbled, unrepentant, unreform'd, 
 
 Headlong would follow ; and to their gods pernapi 
 
 Of Bethel and of Dan ? no, let them serve 
 
 Their enemies who serve idols with God. 
 
 Yet he at length, time to himself best known, 
 
 Rememb'ring Abraham, by some wonderous call 
 
 May bring them back repentent and sincere, 
 
 And at their passing cleave th' Assyrian flood, 
 
 While to their native land with joy they haste. 
 
 As the Red Sea and Jordan once he cleft, 
 
 When to the promis'd land their fathers pass'd : 
 
 To his due time and providence I leave them. 
 
 So spake Israel's true King, and to the fiend 
 Made answer meet, that made void all his wiles : 
 So fares it when with truth falshood contends. 
 
 END OF BOOK THIBD. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 Perplex'd and troubled at his bad success 
 
 The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply, 
 
 Discover'd in his fraud, thrown from his hope 
 
 So oft, and the persuasive rhetoric 
 
 That sleek'd his tongue, and won so much on Eve, 
 
 So little here, nay lost ; but Eve was Eve : 
 
 This far his over-match, who self-deceiv'd 
 
 And rash, beforehand had no better weigh'd 
 
 The strength he was to cope with, or his own : 
 
 But as a man who had been matchless held 
 
 In cunning over-reach'd where least he thought, 
 
 To salve his credit, and for very spite, 
 
 Still will be tempting him who foils him still, 
 
 And never cease, though to his shame the more ; 
 
 Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time, 
 
 About the wine-press where sweet must is pour'd, 
 
 Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound ; 
 
 Dr surging waves against a solid rock ; 
 
 Though all to shivers dash'd, th' assault renew, 
 
 Vain batt'ry, and in froth or bubbles end ; 
 
 So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse 
 
 Met ever, and to shameful silence brought, 
 
 Yet gives not o'er though desperate of success. 
 
 And his vain importunity pursues. 
 
 He brought our Saviour to the western side 
 
46 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK IT 
 
 Of that high mountain, whence he might behold 
 
 Another plain, long, but in breadth not wide, 
 
 Wash'd by the southern sea, and on the north 
 
 To equal length back'd with a ridge of hills, 
 
 That screen'd the fruits of th' earth and seats of met 
 
 From cold Sep^entrion blasts, thence in the midst 
 
 Divided by a river of whose banks 
 
 On each side^ an imperial city stood, 
 
 With towers and temples proudly elevate 
 
 On seven small hills, with palaces adorn'd, 
 
 Porches and theatres, baths, aqueducts. 
 
 Statues and trophies and triumphal arcs, 
 
 Gardens and groves presented to his eyes. 
 
 Above the height of mountains interpos'd , 
 
 By what strange parallax or optic skill 
 
 Of vision, multiplied through air or glass 
 
 Of telescope, were curious to inquire : 
 
 And now the Tempter thus his silence broke : 
 
 The city which thou seest no other deem 
 Than great and glorious Kome, queen of the earth 
 So far renown'd, and with the spoils enrich'd 
 Of nations ; there the capitol thou seest 
 Above the rest lifting his stately head 
 On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel 
 Impregnable ; and there Mount Palatine, 
 Th' imperial palace, compass huge, and high 
 The structure, skill of noblest architects. 
 With gilded battlements, conspicuous far. 
 Turrets and terraces, and glitt'ring spires. 
 Many a fair edifice besides, more like 
 Houses of gods, (so well I have dispos'd 
 My airy microscope,) thou may'st behold 
 Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs, 
 Carv'd work, the hand of fam'd artificers 
 In cedar, marble^ ivory or gold : 
 Thence to the gates cast round thine eye and see 
 What conflux issuing forth, or entering in ; 
 PraBtors, proconsuls to their provinces 
 Hasting, or on return, in robes of 5tat© 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE REGAINED. 47 
 
 Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power, 
 
 Legions and cohorts, turms of horse and wings : 
 
 Or embassies from regions far remote 
 
 In various habits, on the Appian road, 
 
 Or on th' Emilian ; some from farthest south, 
 
 Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, 
 
 Meroe Nilotic isle, and more to west. 
 
 The realm of Bocchus to the Black-moor sea ; 
 
 From th' Asian kings and Parthian among these, 
 
 From India and the golden Chersonese^ 
 
 And utmost Indian Isle Taprobane, 
 
 Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreath'd ; 
 
 From Gallia, Gades, and the British west ; 
 
 Germans and Scythians, and Sarmathians north, 
 
 Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool. 
 
 All nations now to Rome obedience pa}'', 
 
 To Rome's great emperor, whose wide domain, 
 
 In ample territory, wealth and power. 
 
 Civility of manners arts and arms. 
 
 And long renown, thou justly may'st prefer, 
 
 Before the Parthian ; these two thrones except, 
 
 The rest are barb'rous, and scarce worth the sight, 
 
 Shar'd among petty kings too far remov'd: 
 
 These having shown thee, I have shown thee all 
 
 The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory. 
 
 This emp'ror hath no son, and now is old, 
 
 Old and lascivious, and from Rome retir'd 
 
 To Caprae, an island small but strong. 
 
 On the Campanian shore, with purpose there 
 
 His horrid lust in private to enjoy. 
 
 Committing to a wicked favourite 
 
 All public cares, and yet of him suspicious ; 
 
 Hated of all, and hating ; with what ease, 
 
 Endu'd with regal virtues, as thou art, 
 
 Appearing, and beginning noble deeds. 
 
 Might'st thou expel this monster from his throne, 
 
 Now made a st}^ and in his place ascending, 
 
 A victor people free from servile yoke ? 
 
 And with my help thou mayst : to me the power 
 
48 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK IV. 
 
 Is given, and by that right I give it thee. 
 Aim, therefore, at no less than all the world ; 
 Aim at the highest ; Avithout the highest attain'd 
 Will be for thee no sitting, or not long 
 On David's throne, be prophesied what will. 
 
 To whom the Son of God, immov'd, replied : 
 Nor doth this grandeur, and majestic show 
 Of luxury, though call'd magnificence, 
 More than of arms before, allure mine eye, 
 Much less my mind ; though thou shouldst add to tell 
 Their sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts, 
 On citron tables or Atlantic stone, 
 (For I have also heard, perhaps have read,) 
 Their wines of Setia, Gales, and Falerne, 
 Ghios, and Grete, and how they quaff in gold. 
 Crystal and myrrhine cups, imboss'd with gems 
 And studs of pearl ; to me shouldst tell who thirst 
 And hunger still : then embassies thou show'st 
 From nations far and nigh : what honour that, 
 But tedious waste of time, to sit and hear 
 So many hollow compliments and lies, 
 Outlandish flatteries ? Then proceed'st to talk 
 Of th' emperor, how easily subdu'd, 
 How gloriously : I shall, thou say'st, expel 
 A brutish monster : what if I withal 
 Expel a devil who first made him such ? 
 Let his tormentor conscience, find him out ; 
 For him I was not sent ; nor yet to free 
 That people, victor once, now vile and base, 
 Deservedly made vassal, who once just, 
 Frugal and mild, and temp'rate, conquer'd well, 
 But govern ill the nations under yoke. 
 Peeling their provinces, exhausted all 
 By lust and rapine ? first ambitious grown 
 Of triumph, that insulting vanity ; 
 Then cruel, by their sports to blood inur'd 
 Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts expos'd ; 
 Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, 
 And from the daily scene effeminate, 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE REGAINED. 49 
 
 What wise and valiant man would seek to free 
 These thus degenerate, by themselves enslav'd, 
 Or could of ii .ward slaves, make outward free ? 
 Know, therefore, when my season comes to sit 
 On David's throne, it shall be like a tree 
 Spreading and overshadowing all the earth ; 
 Or as a stone that shall to peices dash 
 All monarchies besides throughout the world ; 
 And of my kingdom there shall be no end : 
 Means there shall be to this ; but what the means, 
 Is not for thee to know, nor me to tell. 
 To whom the Tempter impudent replied : 
 
 I see all offers made by me how slight 
 Thou valuest, because offer'd, and reject'st : 
 Nothing wjl] please the difficult and nice, 
 Or nothing more than still to contradict : 
 On th' other side know also thou, that I 
 On what I offer set as high esteem, 
 Nor what I part with mean to give for naught ; 
 All these, which in a moment thou behold'st, 
 The kingdoms of the world to thee I give ; 
 For, given to me, I give to whom I please ; 
 No trifle ; yet with this reserve, not else, 
 On this condition, if thou Avilt fall down, 
 And worship me as thy superior lord, 
 Easily done, and hold them all of me ; 
 For what can less so great a gift deserve ? 
 
 Whom thus our Saviour answer'd with disdain : 
 I never lik'd thy talk, thy offers less : 
 Now both abhor, since thou hast dar'd to utter 
 Th' abominable terms, impious condition ; 
 But I endure the time, till which expir'd. 
 Thou hast permission on me. It is written 
 The first of all commandments, Thou shalt worship 
 The Lord thy God, and only Him shalt serve ; 
 And dar'st thou to the Son of God propound 
 To worship thee accurs'd, now more accurs'd 
 For this attempt, bolder than that on Eve, 
 And more blasphemous ? which expect to rue. 
 
60 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK IV 
 
 The kingdoms of the world to thee were given, 
 
 Permitted rather, and by thee usurp'd ; 
 
 Other donation none thou canst produce. 
 
 If given, by whom, but by the King of kin gs, 
 
 God over all supreme ? if given to thee, 
 
 By thee how fairly is the giver now 
 
 Eepaid ? But gratitude in thee is lost 
 
 \ong since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame, 
 
 As offer them to me, the Son of God, 
 
 To me my own, on such abhorred pact, 
 
 That I fall down and worship thee as God ? 
 
 Get theQ behind me ; plain thou now appear'st 
 
 That evil one Satan ; for ever damn'd. 
 
 To whom the fiend, with fear abash'd, replied : 
 Be not so sore offended. Son of God, 
 (Though sons of God both angels are and men,) 
 If I, to try whether in higher sort 
 Than these thou bear'st that title, have propos'd 
 What both from men and angels I receive, 
 Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth 
 Nations besides from all the quarter'd winds, 
 God of this world invok'd, and world beneath : 
 Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold 
 To me so fatal, me it most concerns. 
 The trial hath indamag'd thee no way, 
 Rather more honour left and more esteem ; 
 Me nought advantag'd, missing what I aim'd, 
 Therefore let pass, as they are transitory. 
 The kingdoms of this world ; I shall no more 
 Advise thee ; gain them as thou canst, or not. 
 And thou thyself seem'st otherwise inclin'd 
 Than to a worldly crown, addicted more 
 To contemplation and profound dispute. 
 As by that early action may be judg'd, 
 When, slipping from thy mother's eye, thou went'st 
 Alone into the temple ; there was found 
 Among the gravest Rabbies, disputant 
 On points and questions fitting Moses' chair ; 
 Teaching, not taught ; the childhood shows the man, 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE REGAINED- 61 
 
 As morning shows the day. Be famous then 
 
 By wisdom ; as thy empire must extend 
 
 So let extend thy mind o'er all the world 
 
 In knowledge, all things in it comprehend : 
 
 All knowledge is not couch'd in Moses' law, 
 
 The Pentateuch, or what the prophets wrote ; 
 
 The Gentiles also know, and write and teach 
 
 To admiration, led by nature's light ; 
 
 And with the Gentiles much thou must converse, 
 
 Ruling them by persuasion, as thou meanest. 
 
 Without their learning how wilt thou with them, 
 
 Or they with thee, hold conversation meet ? 
 
 How wilt thou reason with them, how refute 
 
 Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes ? 
 
 Error by his own arms is best evinc'd. 
 
 Look once more, ere we leave this specular mount, 
 
 Westward, much nearer by south-west ; behold 
 
 Where on th' jEgean shore a city stands 
 
 Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil, 
 
 Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts 
 
 And eloquence, native to famous wits, 
 
 Or hospitable, in her sweet recess, 
 
 City, or suburban, studious walks and shades ; 
 
 See there the olive grove of Academe, 
 
 Plato's retirement, where the attic bird 
 
 Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long ; 
 
 There flowery hill Hymettus with the sound 
 
 Of bees, industrious murmur oft invites 
 
 To studious musing; there Ilissus rolls 
 
 His whisp'ring stream : within the walls then view 
 
 The schools of ancient sages ; his who bred 
 
 Great Alexander to subdue the world; 
 
 Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next : 
 
 There thou shalt hear and learn the secret power 
 
 Of harmony, in tones and numbers hit 
 
 By voice or hand, and various-measur'd verse 
 
 JEolian charms and Dorian lyric odes, 
 
 And his who gave them breath, but higher sung, 
 
 Blind Melesigenes, thence Homer call'd, 
 
62 PARADISE REGAINED. [bOOK IT 
 
 Whose poem PhoBbus challeng'd for his own. 
 
 Thence what the lofty grave tragedians taught 
 
 In chorus or iambic, teachers best 
 
 Of moral prudence, with delight receiv'd 
 
 In brief sententious precepts, while they treat 
 
 Of fate, and chance, and change in human life; 
 
 High actions, and high passions best describing. 
 
 Thence to the famous orators repair. 
 
 Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence 
 
 Wielded at will that fierce democratie, 
 
 Shook th' arsenal, and fulmin'd over Greece 
 
 To Macedon and Artaxerxes throne. 
 
 To sage philosophy next lend thine ear, 
 
 From heaven descended to the low-roof'd house, 
 
 Of Socrates ; see there his tenement. 
 
 Whom, well iespir'd the oracle pronoune'd 
 
 Wisest of men ; from whose mouth issued forth 
 
 Mellifluous streams, that water'd all the schools 
 
 Of Academics old and new, with those 
 
 Surnam'd Peripatetics, and the sect 
 
 Epicurean, and the Stoic severe ; 
 
 These here revolve, or, as thou lik'st at home 
 
 Till time mature thee to a kingdom's weight ; 
 
 These rules will render thee a king complete 
 
 Within thyself; much more with empire join'd. 
 
 To whom our Saviour sagely thus replied : 
 Think not but that I know these things, or think 
 I know them not ; not therefore am I short 
 Of knowing what I ought : he who receives 
 Light from above, from the fountain of light, 
 No other doctrine needs, though granted true ; 
 But these are false, or little else but dreams, 
 Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm. 
 The first and wisest of them all profess'd 
 To know this only, that he nothing knew ; 
 The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits ; 
 A third sort doubted all things, though plain sense ; 
 Others in virtue plac'd felicity, 
 
BOOK IV.1 PARADISE REGAINED. 63 
 
 But virtue join'd with riches and long life ; 
 
 In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease : 
 
 The Stoic last in philosophic pride, 
 
 By him call'd virtue ; and his virtuous man, 
 
 Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing. 
 
 Equals to God, oft shames not to prefer ; 
 
 4s fearing God nor man, contemning all 
 
 Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life, 
 
 Wliich, when he lists, he leaves, or boasts he can. 
 
 For all his tedious talk is but vain boast, 
 
 Or subtle shifts conviction to evade. 
 
 Mas, what can they teach, and not mislead, 
 
 [gnorant of themselves, of God much more, 
 
 And how the world began, and how man fell, 
 
 Degraded by himself, on grace depending ? 
 
 Much of the soul they talk, but all awry, 
 
 And in themselves seek virtue, and to themselves 
 
 All glory arrogate, to God give none, 
 
 Rather accuse him under usual names, 
 
 Fortune and fate, as one regardless quite 
 
 Of mortal things. "Who therefore seeks in these 
 
 True wisdom, finds her not ; or, by delusion 
 
 Far worse, her false resemblance only meets. 
 
 An empty cloud. However, many books, 
 
 Wise men have said, are wearisome : who reads 
 
 Incessantly, and to his reading brings not 
 
 A spirit and judgment equal or superior, 
 
 (And what he brings, what needs he else where seek 
 
 Uncertain and unsettled still remains, 
 
 Deep vers'd in books and shallow in himself, 
 
 Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys, 
 
 And trifles for choice matters, worth a sponge ; 
 
 As children gathering pebbles on the shore. 
 
 Or if I would delight my private hours 
 
 With music or with poem, where so soon 
 
 As in our native language can I find 
 
 That solace ? All our law and story strew'd 
 
 With hymns, our psalms with artful terms mscrib'd, 
 
 Our Hebrew songs and harps in Babylon, 
 
fyi f ARAm&£ REGAINED. [boOX IT. 
 
 That pleas'd so well our victor's ear, declare 
 
 That rather Greece from us these arts deriv'd ; 
 
 111 imitated, while they loudest sing 
 
 The vices of their deities, and their own, 
 
 In fable, hymn, or song, so personating 
 
 Their gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame. 
 
 Remove their swelling epithets, thick laid 
 
 As varnish on a harlot's cheek, the rest, 
 
 Thin sown with aught of profit or delight, 
 
 Will far be found unworthy to compare 
 
 With Sion's songs, to all true tastes excelling, 
 
 Where God is prais'd aright, and godlike men, 
 
 The holiest of holies, and his saints ; 
 
 Such are from God inspir'd ; not such from thee, 
 
 Unless where moral virtue is express'd 
 
 By light of nature not in all quite lost. 
 
 Their orators thou then extoll'st, as those 
 
 The top of eloquence ; statists, indeed. 
 
 And lovers of their country, as may seem : 
 
 But herein to our profits far beneath, 
 
 As men divinely taught, and better teaching 
 
 The solid rules of civil government. 
 
 In their majestic unaffected style, 
 
 Than all the oratory of Greece and Rome. 
 
 In them is plainest taught, and easiest learn'd, 
 
 What makes a nation happy, and keeps it so ; 
 
 What ruins kingdoms, and lays cities flat : 
 
 These only with our law best form a king. 
 
 So spake the son of God : but Satan now. 
 Quite at a loss, for all his darts were spent. 
 Thus to our Saviour with stern brow replied : 
 
 Since neither wealth, nor honour, arms nor arts, 
 Kingdom nor empire, pleases thee, nor aught 
 By me propos'd in life contemplative. 
 Or active, tended on by glory, or fame. 
 What dost thou in this world ? the wilderness 
 For thee is fittest place ; I found thee there, 
 And thither will return thee ; yet remember 
 What I foretel thee ; soon thou shalt have cause 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE REGAINED. 66 
 
 To wish thou never hadst rejected thus 
 
 Nicely or cautiously my ofFer'd aid, 
 
 Which would have set thee in short time with ease 
 
 On David's throne, or throne of all the world, 
 
 Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season, 
 
 When prophecies of thee are best fulfUl'd. 
 
 Now contrary, if I read aught in heaven, 
 
 Or heaven write aught of fate, by what the stars 
 
 Voluminous, or single characters, 
 
 In their conjunction met, give me to spell ; 
 
 Sorrows and labours, opposition, hate 
 
 Attends thee, scorns, reproaches, injuries. 
 
 Violence and stripes, and lastly, cruel death : 
 
 A kingdom they portend thee, but what kingdom 
 
 Real or allegoric, I discern not, 
 
 Nor when, eternal sure, as without end. 
 
 Without beginning ; for no date prefix'd 
 
 Directs me in the starry rubric set. 
 
 So saying, he took (for still he knew his power 
 Not yet expir'd) and to the wilderness 
 Brought back the Son of God, and left him there, 
 Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose. 
 As day-light sunk, and brought in lowering night, 
 Her shadowy offspring, unsubstantial both, 
 Privation mere of light and absent day. 
 Our Saviour, meek, and with untroubled mind, 
 After his airy jaunt, though hurried sore, 
 Hungry and cold, betook him to his rest, 
 *Vherever, under some concourse of shades. 
 Whose branching arms thick intertwin'd might shield, 
 From dews and damps of night his shelter'd head, 
 But shelter'd slept in vain ; for at his head 
 The Tempter watch'd, and soon with ugly dreams 
 Disturb'd his sleep : and either tropic now 
 'Gan thunder, and both ends of heaven, the clouds, 
 From many a horrid rift abortive, pour'd 
 Fierce rain with lightning mix'd, water with fire 
 In ruin reconcil'd : nor slept the winds 
 Within their stony caves, but rush'd abroad 
 
56 tARAWSE REGAINED. [BOOK IT 
 
 From the four hinges of the world, and fell 
 On the vex'd Avilderness, whose tallest pines, 
 Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks, 
 Bow'd their stiff necks, loaded with stormy blasts, 
 Or torn up sheer ; ill wast thou shrouded then, 
 O patient Son of God, yet only stood'st 
 Unshaken : nor yet stay'd the terror there ; 
 Infernal ghosts and hellish furies round 
 Environ'd thee ; some howl'd. some yell'd, some 
 
 shriek'd, 
 Some bent at thee their fiery darts, while thou 
 Sat'st unappall'd in calm and sinless peace : 
 Thus pass'd the night so foul, till morning fair 
 Come forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray, 
 Who with her radiant finger still'd the roar 
 Of thunder, chas'd the clouds, and laid the winds, 
 And grisly spectres, which the fiend had rais'd 
 To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire. 
 And now the sun with more effectual beams 
 Had cheer'd the face of earth, and dried the wet 
 From drooping plant, or drooping tree ; the birds, 
 "Who all things now behold more fresh and green 
 After a night of storm so ruinous, 
 Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray, 
 To gratulate the sweet return of morn : 
 Nor yet amidst this joy and brightest morn 
 Was absent, after all his mischief done, 
 The Prince of Darkness glad would also seem 
 Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came, 
 Yet with no new device, they all were spent : 
 Rather by this his last affront resolv'd, 
 Desp'rate of better course, to vent his rage 
 A.nd mad despite to be so oft repell'd. 
 Him walking on a sunny hill he found, 
 Back'd on the north and west by a thick wood; 
 Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape. 
 And in a careless mood thus to him said : 
 
 Fair morning yet betides thee, Son of God, 
 After a dismal night : I heard the wrack 
 
BOOX lY.' PARADISE REGAINED. 57 
 
 As earth and sky would mingle ; but myself 
 Was distant ; and these flaws, though mortals fear 
 
 them 
 As dang'rous to the pillar'd frame of heaven, 
 Or to the earth's dark basis underneath, 
 Are to the main as inconsiderable 
 And harmless, if not wholesome, as a sneeze 
 To man's less universe, and soon are gone ; 
 Yet as being oft times noxious where they light 
 On man, beast, plant, wastful and turbulent, 
 Like turbulencies in th' affairs of men, 
 Over whose heads they roar and seem to point, 
 They oft fore-signify and threaten ill : 
 This tempest at this desert most was bent ; 
 Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'st. 
 Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject 
 The perfect season offer'd with my aid 
 To win thy destin'd seat, but wilt prolong 
 All to the push of fate pursue thy way. 
 Of gaining David's throne no man knows when, 
 For both the when and how is no where told, 
 Thou shalt be what thou art ordain'd, no doubt ; 
 For angels have proclaim'd it, but concealing 
 The time and means : each act is rightliest done. 
 Not when it must, but when it may be best. 
 If thou observe not this, be sure to find 
 What I foretold thee, many an hard assay 
 Of dangers, and adversities, and pains, 
 Ere thou of Israel's sceptre get fast hold ; 
 Whereof this ominous night that clos'd thee round, 
 So many terrors, voices, prodigies. 
 May warn thee, as a sure foregoing sign. 
 
 So talk'd he while the Son of God went on. 
 And stay'd not, but in brief him annwer'd thus : 
 
 Me worse than wet thou find'st not ; other harm 
 Those terrors which thou speak'st of did me none ; 
 I never fear'd they could, though noising loud. 
 And threat'ning nigh ; what they can do as signs 
 Betokening, or ill-boding, I contemn 
 
68 PARADISE REG>WED. [bOOK IV. 
 
 As false portents, not sent from God, but thee : 
 Who knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, 
 Obtrud'st thy ofFer'd aid, that I accepting 
 At least might seem to hold all power of thee, 
 Ambitious spirit, and wouldst be thought my God 
 And storm'st refus'd, thinking to terrify 
 Me to thy will : desist, thou art discern'd 
 And toil'st in vain, nor me in vain molest. 
 
 To whom the fiend, now swoln with rage, replied 
 Then hear, O Son of David, Virgin-born ; 
 For Son of God to me is yet in doubt ; 
 Of the Messiah I have heard foretold 
 By all the prophets : of thy birth, at length 
 Announc'd by Gabriel, with the first I knew, 
 And of th' angelic song in Bethlehem field. 
 On thy birth-night, that sung thee Saviour born. 
 From that time seldom have I ceas'd to eye 
 Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth, 
 Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred ; 
 Till at the ford of Jordan, whither all 
 t'lock to the Baptist, I among the rest 
 5?hough not to be baptiz'd, by voice from heaven 
 Heard thee pronounc'd, the Son of God belov'd. 
 Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view 
 And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn 
 In what degree or meaning thou art call'd 
 The Son of God, which bears no single sense : 
 The Son of God I also am, or was ; 
 And if I was, I am ; relation stands : 
 All men are sons of God : yet thee I thought 
 In some respect far higher so declar'd ; 
 Therefore I watch'd thy footsteps from that hour, 
 And follow'd thee still on to this waste wild; 
 Where by all best conjectures I collect 
 Thou art to be my fatal enemy. 
 Good reason then, if I beforehand seek 
 To understand my adversary, who 
 And what he is ; his wisdom, power, intent , 
 By parle, or composition, truce, or league, 
 
lOOK IV.] PARADISE KEGAINED. 60 
 
 To win him, or win from him what I can. 
 
 In opportunity I here have had 
 
 To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee 
 
 Proof against all temptation, as a rock 
 
 Of adamant, and as a centre, firm : 
 
 To th' utmost of mere man both wise and good, 
 
 Nor more ; for honours, riches, kingdoms, glory, 
 
 Have been before contemn'd, and may again : 
 
 Therefore to know what more thou art than man, 
 
 Worth naming Son of God by voice from heaven. 
 
 Another method I must now begin. 
 
 So saying, he caught him up, and without wing 
 Of hippogrifF, bore through the air sublime 
 Over the wilderness and o'er the plain ; 
 Till underneath them fair Jerusalem, 
 The holy city, lifted high her towers, 
 And higher yet the glorious temple rear'd 
 Her pile, far off appearing like a mount 
 Of alabaster, topp'd with golden spires : 
 There on the highest pinnacle he set 
 The Son of God, and added thus in scorn : 
 
 There stand, if thou wilt stand ; to stand upright 
 Will ask thee skill : I to thy father's house 
 Have brought thee, and highest plac'd ; highest is 
 
 best : 
 Now show thy progeny ; if not to stand, 
 Cast thyself down ; safely, if Son of God : 
 For it is written, He will give command 
 Concerning thee to his angels, in their hands 
 They shall uplift thee, lest at any time 
 Thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone. 
 
 To whom thus Jesus : Also it is written, 
 Tempt not the Lord thy God : he said, and stood. 
 But Satan, smitten v/ith amazement, fell ; 
 As when earth's son Antaeus (to compare 
 Small things with greatest) in Irassa strove 
 With Jove's Alcides, and oft foil'd still rose, 
 Receiving from his mother-earth new strength, 
 Fresh horn his fall, and fiercer grapple join'd, 
 
60 PARADISE RE&AINED. [BOOK IV 
 
 Throttled at length in th' air, expir'd and fell; 
 
 So after many a foil the Tempter proud, 
 
 Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride, 
 
 Fell whence he stood to see his victor fall. 
 
 And as that Theban monster, that propos'd 
 
 Her riddle, and him who solv'd it not devour'd, 
 
 That once found out and solv'd, for grief and spite 
 
 Cast herself headlong from th' Ismenian steep ; 
 
 So, struck with dread and anguish fell the fiend; 
 
 And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought 
 
 Joyless triumphals of his hop'd success, 
 
 Ruin and desperation, and dismay. 
 
 Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. 
 
 So Satan fell ; and straight a fiery globe 
 
 Of angels on full sail of wing flew nigh, 
 
 Who on their plumy vans receiv'd him soft 
 
 From his uneasy station, and upbore 
 
 As on a floating couch through the blithe air, 
 
 Then in a flowery valley set him doAvn 
 
 On a green bank, and set before him spread 
 
 A table of celestial food, divine. 
 
 Ambrosial fruits, fetch'd from the tree of life, 
 
 And from the fount of life ambrosial drink. 
 
 That soon refresh'd him \\rearied, and repair'd, 
 
 What hunger, if aught hunger had impair'd, 
 
 Or thirst ; and as he fed, angelic choirs 
 
 Sung heavenly anthems of his victory 
 
 Over temptation, and the Tempter proud. 
 
 True image of the Father, whether thron'd 
 In the bosom of bliss, and light of light 
 Conceiving, or remote from heaven, inshrirr'd 
 In fleshly tabernacle, and human form, 
 Wand'ring the wilderness, whatever place, 
 Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing 
 The Son of God, with godlike force endu'd 
 Against th' attempter of thy Father's throne, 
 And thief of Paradise ; him long of old 
 Thou didst defeat, and down from heaven cast 
 With all his army ; now thou hast aveng'd 
 
BOOK IV.] PARADISE REGAINED. 61 
 
 Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing 
 
 Temptation hast regain'd lost Paradise, 
 
 And frustrated the conquest fraudulent; 
 
 He never more henceforth will dare set foot 
 
 In Paradise to tempt : his snares are broke : 
 
 For though that seat of earthly bliss be fail'd, 
 
 A fairer Paradise is founded now 
 
 For Adam and his chosen sons, whom thou 
 
 A Saviour art come down to re-instal. 
 
 Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall be, 
 
 Of tempter and temptation without fear. 
 
 But thou, infernal Serpent, shalt not long 
 
 Rule in the clouds ; like an autumnal star 
 
 Or lightning thou shalt fall from heaven, trod down 
 
 Under his feet : for proof, ere this thou feel'st 
 
 Thy wound, yet not thy last and deadliest wound, 
 
 By this repulse receiv'd, and hold'st in hell 
 
 No triumph : in all her gates Abaddon rues 
 
 Thy bold attempt; hereafter learn with awe 
 
 To dread the Son of God : he, all unarm'd, 
 
 Shall chase thee with the terror of his voice 
 
 From thy demoniac holds, possession foul, 
 
 Thee and thy legions ; yelling they shall fly, 
 
 And beg to hide them in a herd of swine, 
 
 Lest he command them down into the deep 
 
 Bound, and to torment sent before their time. 
 
 Hail Son of the Most High, heir of both worlds, 
 
 Queller of Satan, on thy glorious work 
 
 Now enter, and begin to save mankind. 
 
 Thus they the Son of God, our Saviour meek, 
 Sung victor, and from heavenly feast refresh'd, 
 Brought on his way with joy ; he, unobserv'd, 
 Home to his mother's house private return'd. 
 
 END OF PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
A MASK 
 
 PRESENTED 
 
 AT LUDLOW CASTLE, 
 
 BEFORE 
 
 THE EARL OF BRIDGEWATER, 
 
 THEN PRESIDENT OF WALES. 
 
THE PERSONS. 
 
 The attendant Spirit, afterwards in the habit of Thyrsis, 
 
 CoMus with his crew. 
 
 The Lady. 
 
 First Brother. 
 
 Second Brother. 
 
 Sabrina the Nymph. 
 
 The chief persons who presented were, 
 
 The Lord Brackly. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Egerton his brother. 
 
 The Lady Alice Egerton. 
 
t^ 
 
 t> 
 
 A MASK* 
 
 The first scene discovers a wild wood. 
 The attendant Spirit descends or enters. 
 
 Before the starry threshold of Jove's court 
 
 My mansion is, where those immortal shapes 
 
 Of bright aerial spirits live inspher'd 
 
 In regions mild of calm and serene air, 
 
 Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot 
 
 Which men call earth, and with low-thoughted care, 
 
 Confin'd and pester'd in this pin-fold here, 
 
 Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being, 
 
 Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives 
 
 After this mortal change to her true servants 
 
 Amongst the enthron'd gods on sainted seats. 
 
 Yet some there be that by due steps aspire 
 
 To lay their just hands on that golden key. 
 
 That opes the palace of eternity : 
 
 To such my errand is ; and but for such, 
 
 would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds 
 With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould. 
 
 * Milton seems in this poem to have imitated Shakspeare's map- 
 ner in more than any other of his works ; and it was very natural 
 for a young author preparing a piece for the stage, to propose to 
 himself for a pattern, the most celebrated master of English dra- 
 matic poetry. He has likewise very closely imitated several passa- 
 ges in Beaumont and Fletcher's play of The Faithless Shepher- 
 
66 MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 But to my task. Neptune, besides the sway 
 Of every salt flood, and each ebbing stream, 
 Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove, 
 Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles, 
 That like to rich and various gems inlay 
 The unadorned bosom of the deep. 
 Which he to grace his tributary gods 
 By course commits to several government, 
 And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns, 
 And wield their little tridents : but this Isle, 
 The greatest and the best of all the main, 
 He quarters to his blue-hair'd deities ; 
 And all this tract that fronts the falling sun 
 A noble peer of mickle trust and power 
 Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide 
 An old and haughty nation, proud in arms : 
 Where his fair offspring nurs'd in princely lore 
 Are coming to attend their father's state. 
 And new-intrusted sceptre : but their way 
 Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear wood, 
 The nodding horror of whose shady brows 
 Threats the forlorn and wand'ring passenger ; 
 And here their tender age might suffer peril, 
 But that by quick command from sov'reign Jove 
 I was despatch'd for their defence and guard: 
 And listen why, for I will tell you now 
 What never yet was heard in tale or song. 
 From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. 
 
 Bacchus, that first from out the purple graps 
 Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine, 
 After the Tuscan mariners transform 'd, 
 Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the wmds listed, 
 On Circe's island fell : (Who knows not Circe 
 The daughter of the Sun ? whose charmed cup 
 Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape, 
 And downward fell into a grovelling swine,) 
 This Nymph that gaz'd upon his clust'ring locks. 
 With ivy-berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth. 
 
MASK OF COMUS. 67 
 
 Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son, 
 
 Much like his father, but his mother more. 
 
 Whom, therefore, she brought up, and Comus nam'd ; 
 
 Who ripe, and frolic of his full-grown age, 
 
 Koving the Celtic and Iberian fields. 
 
 At last betakes him to this ominous wood. 
 
 And in thick shelter of black shades embower'd 
 
 Excels his mother at her mighty art, 
 
 Offering to every weary traveller. 
 
 His orient liquor in a crystal glass. 
 
 To quench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taste, 
 
 (For most do taste, through fond intemp'rate thirst,) 
 
 Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance, 
 
 Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd 
 
 Into some brutish form of wolf, or bear, 
 
 Or ounce, or tyger, hog, or bearded goat. 
 
 All other parts remaining as they were ; 
 
 And they, so perfect is their misery. 
 
 Not once perceive their foul disfigurement. 
 
 But boast themselves more comely than before, 
 
 And all their friends and native home forget, 
 
 To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty ; 
 
 Therefore when any favour'd of high Jove 
 
 Chances to pass through this advent'rous glade, 
 
 Swift as that sparkle of a glancing star 
 
 I shoot from heaven, to give him safe convoy, 
 
 As now I do : But first I must put off 
 
 These my sky robes spun out of Iris' woof, 
 
 And take the weeds and likeness of a swain. 
 
 That to the service of his house belongs, 
 
 Who with his soft pipe, and smooth-dittied song, 
 
 Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar, 
 
 And hush the waving woods, nor of less faith, 
 
 And in this office of his mountain watch. 
 
 Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid 
 
 Of this occasion. But I hear the tread 
 
 Of hateful steps, I must be viewless now. 
 
68 MASK OF coMtrs. 
 
 CoMus enters with a charming-rod in one hand, his glass 
 in the other ; with him a rout of monsters, headed like 
 sundry sorts of wilds beasts, but otherwise like men and 
 women, their apparel glistering ; they come in, making 
 a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in their hands, 
 
 Com.us. The star that bids the shepherd fold, 
 Now the top of heaven doth hold, 
 And the gilded car of day, 
 His glowing axle doth allay 
 In the steep Atlantic stream. 
 And the slope sun his upward beam 
 Shoots against the dusky pole, 
 Pacing toward the other goal 
 Of his chamber in the east. 
 Meanwhile welcome joy, and feast, 
 Midnight shout, and revelry. 
 Tipsy dance, and jollity ; 
 Braid your locks with rosy twine, 
 Dropping odours, dropping wine. 
 Rigour now is gone to bed, 
 And Advice with scrupulous head, 
 Strict Age, and sour Severity 
 With their grave saws in slumber lie. 
 We that are of purer fire 
 
 Imitate the starry choir, ^.x 
 
 Who in their nightly watchful spheres, 
 Lead in swift round the months and years. 
 The sounds and seas with all their finny drove, 
 Now to the moon in wavering morrice move ; 
 And on the tawny sands and shelves 
 Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves. 
 By dimple brook, and fountain brim, 
 The wood-nymphs deck'd with daisies trim, 
 Their merry wakes and pastimes keep : 
 What hath night to do with sleep ? 
 Night hath better sweets to prove, 
 Venus now wakes and wakens Love. 
 Come let us our rites begin, 
 'Tis only day-light that makes sin, 
 
MASK OF COMUS. 69 
 
 Which these dull shades will ne'er report. 
 
 Hail goddess of nocturnal sport, 
 
 Dark-veil'd Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame 
 
 Of midnight torches burns ; mysterious dame, 
 
 That ne'er art call'd, but v/hen the dragon womb 
 
 Of Stygian darkness spits her thickest gloom. 
 
 And makes one blot of all the air, 
 
 Stay thy cloudy ebon chair, 
 
 Wherein thou rid'st with Hecate, and befriend 
 
 Us, thy vow'd priests, till utmost end 
 
 Of all thy dues be done, and none left out, 
 
 Ere the blabbing eastern scout, 
 
 The nice morn on th' Indian steep 
 
 From her cabin'd loop-hole peep, 
 
 And to the tell-tale sun descry 
 
 Our conceal'd solemnity. 
 
 Come, knit hands, and beat the ground 
 
 In a light fantastic round. 
 
 The Measure, 
 
 Break off, break off, I feel the different pace 
 
 Of some chaste footing near about this ground. 
 
 Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees 
 
 Our number may affright : Some virgin sure 
 
 (For so I can distinguish by mine art) 
 
 Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, 
 
 And to my wily trains ; t shall ere long 
 
 Be well stock'd with as fair a herd as graz'd 
 
 About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl 
 
 My dazzling spells into the spongy air, 
 
 !)f power to cheat the eye with blear illusion, 
 
 A.nd give it false presentments, lest the place 
 
 And my quaint habits, breed astonishment. 
 
 And put the damsel to suspicious flight, 
 
 "Which must not be, for that's against my course ; 
 
 I under fair pretence of friendly ends, 
 
 And well plac'd words of glozing courtesy 
 
 Baited with reasons not unplausible, 
 
70 JIASK OP COMUS. 
 
 Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 
 
 And hug him into snares. When once her eye 
 
 Hath met the virtue of this magic dust, 
 
 I shall appear some harmless villager, 
 
 Wliom thrift keeps up about his country gear. 
 
 But here she comes, I fairly step aside, 
 
 A.nd hearken, if I may, her business here. 
 
 The Lady enters. 
 This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, 
 My best guide now ; me thought it was the sound 
 Of riot and ill-manag'd merriment. 
 Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pip 
 Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds. 
 When for their teeming flocks and granges full, 
 In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan 
 And thank the gods amiss. I should be loath 
 To meet the rudeness, and swill'd insolence 
 Of such late wassailers ; yet O, where else 
 Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 
 In the blind mazes of this tangled wood ? 
 My Brothers when they saw me wearied out 
 With this long way, resolving here to lodge 
 Under the spreading favour of these pines, 
 Stepp'd, as they said, to the next thicket side 
 To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit 
 As the kind hospitable woods provide. 
 They left me then when the gray-hooded even, 
 Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, 
 Kose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain. 
 But where they are, and why they came not back, 
 Is now the labour of my thoughts ; likeliest 
 They had engag'd their wand'ring steps too far, 
 And envious darkness, ere they could return, 
 Had stole them from me ; else, O thievish Night, 
 Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end, 
 In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars. 
 That nature hung in heaven, and fill'd their lamps 
 With everlasting oil, to give due light 
 
MASK OF COMTJS. 71 
 
 To the misled and lonely traveller ? 
 This is the place, as well as I may guess, 
 Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth 
 Was rife, and perfect in r.xy list'ning ear, 
 y"et nought but single darkness do I find. 
 What might this be ? A thousand fantasies 
 Begin to throng into my memory, 
 Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, 
 And airy tongues, that syllable men's names 
 On sands, and shores, and desert wildeniesses. 
 These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 
 The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 
 By a strong siding champion. Conscience. — 
 
 welcome pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope, 
 Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings, 
 And thou unblemish'd form of Chastity ; 
 
 1 see you visibly, and now believe 
 
 That he, the Supreme Good, t' whom all things ill 
 
 Are but as slavish officers of vengeance, 
 
 Would send a glist'ring guardian if need were 
 
 To keep my life and honour unassail'd. 
 
 Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud 
 
 Turn forth her silver lining on the night ? 
 
 I did not err, there does a sable cloud 
 
 Turn forth her silver lining on the night, 
 
 And casts a gleam over this tufted grove. 
 
 1 cannot halloo to .: ^ Brothers, but 
 
 Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest 
 
 I'll venture, for my new enliven'd spirits 
 
 Prompt me ; and they perhaps are not far off. ' 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen 
 
 Within thy airy shell, 
 
 By slow Meander's margent green, 
 And in the violet-embroider'd vale, 
 
 Where the lovelorn nightingale 
 
72 MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well ; 
 Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair 
 That likest thy Narcissus are ? 
 
 O if thou have 
 Hid them in some flowery cave, 
 Tell me but where, 
 Sweet queen of parly, daughter of the sphere, 
 So mayst thou be translated to the skies, 
 And give resounding grace to all heaven's harmonics, 
 
 Comus. Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould 
 Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment ? 
 Sure something holy lodges in that breast, 
 And with these raptures moves the vocal air 
 To testify his hidden residence : 
 How sweetly did they float upon the wings 
 Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night 
 At every fall smoothing the raven down 
 Of darkness till it smil'd ! I have oft heard 
 My mother Circo with the Sirens three, 
 Amidst the flovv^ery-kirtled Naiades 
 Culling their potent herbs, and baleful drugs. 
 Who as they sung, would take the prison'd soul, 
 And lap in Elysium ; Scylla wept, 
 And chid her bar^-nng waves into attention, 
 And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause : 
 Yet they in pleasing slumber luU'd the sense 
 And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself : 
 But such a sacred, and homefelt delight. 
 Such sober certainty of waking bliss 
 I never heard till now. I'll speak to her, 
 And she shall be my queen. Kail, foreign wonder, 
 Whom certain these rough shades did never breed, 
 Unless the goddess that in rural shrine 
 Dwell'st here with Pan, or Silvan by bless'd song 
 Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog 
 To touch the prosp'rous growth of this toll wood. 
 
 Lady. Nay, gentle Shepherd, ill is lost that praise 
 That is address'd to unattending ears ; 
 
i 
 
 - MASK OF COMUS, 73 
 
 Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift 
 How to regain my sever'd company, 
 Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo 
 To give me answer from her mossy couch. 
 
 Com. What chance, good Lady, hath bereft you 
 thus? 
 
 Lady. Dim darkness and this leafy labyrinth. 
 
 Com. Could that divide you from near-ushering 
 guides ? 
 
 Lady. They left me weary on a grassy turf. 
 
 Com. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why ? 
 
 Lady. To seek i' th' valley some cool friendly spring. 
 
 Com. And left your fair side all unguarded, Lady ? 
 
 Lady. They were but twain, and purpos'd quick 
 return. 
 
 Com. Perhaps forestalling night prevented them ? 
 
 Lady. How easy my misfortune is to hit ! 
 
 Com. Imports their loss, beside the present need ? 
 
 Lady. No less than if I should my brothers lose. 
 
 Com. Where they of manly prime, or youthfu 
 bloom ? 
 
 Lady. As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips. 
 
 i^om. Two such I saw, what time the labour'd ox 
 Ifet 1118 loose traces from the furrow came, 
 Aaa liie swink'd hedger at his supper sat ', 
 I saw Idem under a green mantling vine 
 That crawls along the side of yon small hill, 
 Pluckmff ripe clusters from the tender shoots ; 
 Their port was more than human, as they stood ; 
 I took it for a fairy vision 
 Of some gay creatures of the element, 
 That in the colours of the rainbow live. 
 And play i' th' plighted clouds. I was awe-struck 
 And as I pass'd, I worshipp'd ; if those you seek, 
 It were a journey like the path to heaven, 
 To help you find them. 
 
 Lady. Gentle villager, 
 What readiest way would bring me to that place ? 
 
 Com. Due west it rises from this shrubby point. 
 
74 MASlC OF COMUS- 
 
 Lady. To find out that, good Shepherd, I suppose, 
 In such a scant allowance of star-light, 
 Would overtask the best land-pilot's art, 
 Without the sure guess of well-practis'd feet. 
 
 Com. I know each lane, and every alley green, 
 Dingle or bushy dell of this wild wood, 
 And every husky bourn from side to side, 
 My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood ; 
 And if your stray-attendants be yet lodg'd. 
 Or shroud within these limits, I shall know 
 Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark 
 From her thatch 'd pallet rouse ; if otherwise 
 I can conduct you, Lady, to a low 
 But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 
 Till further quest. 
 
 Lady. Shepherd I take thy word, 
 And trust thy honest offer'd courtesy, 
 Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds 
 With smoky rafters, than in tap'stry halls 
 And courts of princes, where it first was nam'd, 
 And yet is most pretended : In a place 
 Less warranted than this, or less secure, 
 I cannot be, that I should fear to change it. 
 Eye me, bless'd Providence, and square my trial 
 To my proportion'd strength. Shepherd, lead on. 
 
 The two Brothers. 
 
 Eld. Bra. Unmuffle, ye faint stars, and thou, fail 
 moon, 
 That wont'st to love the traveller's benizon, 
 Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, 
 And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here 
 In double night of darkness, and of shades ; 
 Or if your influence be quite damm'd up 
 With black usurping mists, some gentle taper, 
 Though a rush candle from the wicker hole 
 Of some clay habitation, visit us 
 With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light, 
 
HASK O COMUS» . 7B 
 
 And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, 
 Or Tyrian Cynosure. 
 
 Sec. Bro. Or if our eyes 
 Be barr'd that happiness, might we but hear 
 The folded flocks penn'd in their wattled cotes, 
 Or sound of past'ral reed with oaten stops, 
 Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock 
 Count the night watches to his feathery dames, 
 *Twould be some solace yet, some little cheering 
 In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. 
 But O that hapless virgin, our lost Sister, 
 Where may she wander now, v/hither betake her 
 From the chill dew, amongst rude burs and thistles ? 
 Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now, 
 Or 'gainst the rugged bark of some broad elm 
 Leans her unpillow'd head fraught with sad fears. 
 What if in wild amazement, and affright. 
 Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp 
 Of savage hunger, or of savage heat ? 
 
 Eld. Bro. Peace, Brother, be not over exquisite 
 To cast the fashion of uncertain evils ; 
 For grant they be so, while they rest unknown, 
 What need a man forestall his date of grief, 
 And run to meet what he would most avoid ? 
 Or if they be but false alarms of fear, 
 How bitter is such self-delusion ? 
 I do not think my Sister so to seek, 
 Or so unprincipled in virtue's book, 
 And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, 
 As that the single want of light and noise 
 Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) 
 Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts^ 
 And put them into misbecoming plight. 
 Virtue could see to do what virtue would 
 By her own radiant light, though sun and moon 
 Were in the flat sea sunk. And wisdom's self 
 Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude. 
 Where with her best nuree contemplation 
 She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, 
 
76 MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 That in the various hustle of resort 
 Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. 
 He that has light within his own clear breast 
 May sit i' th' centre, and enjoy bright day : 
 But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, 
 Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; 
 Him?elf is his ovm dungeon. 
 
 Sec. Bro. 'Tis most true, 
 That musing meditation most affects 
 The pensive secresy of desert cell, 
 Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds, 
 And sits as safe as in the senate house ; 
 For who would rob a hermet of his weeds, 
 His few books or his beads, or maple dish, 
 Or do his grey hairs any violence ? 
 But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree 
 Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard 
 Of dragon-watch with unenchanted eye, 
 To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit 
 From the rash hand of bold incontinence. 
 You may as well spread out the unsunn'd heaps 
 Of miser's treasure by an outlaw's den, 
 And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 
 Danger will wink on opportunity, 
 And let a single helpless maiden pass 
 Uninjur'd in this wild surrounding waste. 
 Of night, or loneliness it recks me not ; 
 I fear the dread events that dog them both, 
 Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt th« person 
 Of our unown'd Sister. 
 
 Eld. Bro. I do not, Brother, 
 Infer, as if I thought my Sister's state 
 Secure without all doubt, or controversy . 
 Yet where an equal poise of hope and fear 
 Does arbitrate th' event, my nature is 
 That I incline to hope, rather than fear, 
 And gladly banish squint suspicion. 
 My Sister is not so defenceless left 
 
MASK OF COMUS. T7 
 
 As you imagine ; she has a hidden strength 
 Which you remember not, 
 
 Sec. Bro. What hidden strength. 
 Unless the strength of heaven, if yau mean that ? 
 
 Eld. Bro. I mean that too, but yet a hidden strengtii 
 Which if heaven gave it, may be term'd her own, 
 'Tis chastity, my Brother, chastity : 
 She that has that, is clad in complete steel, 
 And like a quiver'd nymph with arrows keen 
 May trace huge forests, and unharbour'd heaths, 
 Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds, 
 Where through the sacred rays of chastity. 
 No savage fierce, bandit, or mountaineer 
 Will dare to soil her virgin purity : 
 Yea there, where very desolation dwells 
 By grots, and caverns shagg'd with horrid shades. 
 She may pass on with unblench'd majesty, 
 Be it not done in pride, or in presumption. 
 Some say no evil thing that walks by night, 
 In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen, 
 Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost, 
 That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, 
 No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine. 
 Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity. 
 Do ye believe me yet, or shall I call 
 Antiquity from the old schools of Greece 
 To testify the arms of chastity ? 
 Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow. 
 Fair silver-shafted queen, for ever chaste, 
 Wherewith she tam'd the brinded lioness 
 And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought 
 The frivolous bolt of Cupid ; gods and men 
 Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen o' th* woods 
 What was that snaky-headed Gorgon shield. 
 That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd virgin, 
 Wherewith she freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone. 
 But rigid looks of chaste austerity. 
 And noble grace that dash'd brute violence 
 With sudden adoration, and blank awe ? 
 G* 
 
78 MASK OF coMtrs. 
 
 So dear to heaven is saintly chastity, 
 That when a soul is found sincerely so, 
 A thousand liveried angels lacky her. 
 Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, 
 And in clear dream, and solemn vision, 
 Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear, 
 Till oft converse with heavenly habitants. 
 Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape, 
 The unpolluted temple of the mind, ^ 
 
 And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence. 
 Till all be made immortal : but when lust, 
 By unchaste looks, loose gestures and foul talk, 
 But most by lewd and lavish act of sin, 
 Lets in defilement to the inward parts. 
 The soul grows clotted by contagion, 
 Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose 
 The divine property of her first being. 
 Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 
 Oft seen in charnal vaults and sepulchres, 
 Ling'ring and sitting by a new made grave, 
 As loath to leave the body that it lov'd. 
 And link'd itself by carnal sensuality 
 To a degenerate and degraded state. 
 
 Sec. Bro. How charming is divine philosophy ! 
 Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, 
 But musical as is Apollo's lute, 
 And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, 
 Where no crude surfeit reigns. 
 
 Eld. Bro. List, list, I hear 
 Some far ofi'halloo break the silent air» 
 
 Sec. Bro. Methought so too ; what should it be. 
 
 Eld. Bro. For certain 
 Either some one like us night-founder'd here. 
 Or else some neighbour wood-man, or at worst. 
 Some roving robber calling to his fellows. 
 
 Sec. Bro. Heaven keep my Sister. Again, again, 
 and near ; 
 Best draw% and stand upon our guards 
 
 Eld. Bro. I'll halloo i 
 
MASK OF COMUS. 79 
 
 If he be friendly, he comes well ; If not, 
 Defence is a good cause, and heaven be for us. 
 
 The attendant Spirit, habited like a shepherd. 
 
 That halloo I should know, what are you ? speak ; 
 Come not too near, you fall on iron stakes else. 
 
 Spir. What voice is that ? my young lord ? speak 
 again. 
 
 Sec. Bro. O brother, 'tis my father's shepherd, sure. 
 
 Eld. Bro. Thyrsis ? whose artful strains have oft 
 delay'd 
 The huddling brook to hear his madrigal, 
 And sweeten'd every musk-rose of the dale. 
 How cam'st thou here, good swain ? hath any ram 
 Slipp'd from the fold, or young kid lost his dam, 
 Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook ? 
 How could'st thou find this dark sequester'd nook? 
 
 Spir. O my lov'd master's heir, and his next joy, 
 I came not here on such a trivial toy 
 As a stray'd ewe, or to pursue the stealth 
 Of pilfering wolf; not all the fleecy wealth 
 That doth enrich these do^vns, is worth a thought 
 To this my errand, and the care it brought. 
 But, my virgin Lady, where is she ? 
 How chance she is not in your company ? 
 
 Eld. Bro. To tell thee sadly. Shepherd, without 
 blame, 
 Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 
 
 Spir. Ah me unhappy ! then my fears are true. 
 
 Eld. Bro. What fears, good Thyrsis ? Prithee 
 briefly show. 
 
 Spir. I'll tell ye ; 'tis not vain or fabulous, 
 Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance,) 
 What the sage poets, taught by th' heavenly muse. 
 Storied of old in high immortal verse. 
 Of dire chimeras and enchanted isles. 
 And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell ; 
 For such there be, but unbelief is blind. 
 
80 MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 Within the naval of this hideous wood, 
 Immur'd in cypress shades a sorcerer dwells, 
 Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus, 
 Deep skill'd in all his mother's witcheries, 
 And here to every thirsty wanderer, 
 By sly enticement gives his baneful cup, 
 With many mumurs mix'd, whose pleasing poison 
 The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, 
 And the inglorious likeness of a beast 
 Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage 
 Character'd in the face ; this have I learn'd 
 Tending my flocks hard by i' th' hilly crofts 
 That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night 
 He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl 
 Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey, 
 Doing abhored rites to Hecate 
 In their obscured haunts of inmost bowers. 
 Yet have they many baits, and guileful spells. 
 To inveigle and invite th' unwary sense 
 Of them that pass unweeting by the way. 
 This evening late, by then the chewing flocks 
 Had ta'en their supper on the savoury herb 
 Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold, 
 I sat me down to watch upon a bank 
 With ivy canopied, and interwove 
 With flaunting honey-suckle, and began, 
 Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy, 
 To meditate my rural minstrelsy, 
 Till fancy had her fill, but ere a close 
 The wonted roar was up amidst the woods, 
 And fill'd the air with barbarous dissonance ; 
 At which I ceas'd, and listen'd them awhile, 
 Till an unusual stop of sudden silence 
 Gave respite to the drowsy-flighted steeds. 
 That draw the litter of close curtain'd sleep ; 
 At last a soft and solemn breathing-sound 
 Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes. 
 And stole upon the air, that even silence 
 Was took ere she was 'ware, and wished she miglv 
 
MASK OF COMUS. 81 
 
 Deny her nature, and be never more 
 
 Still to be so displac'd. I was all ear, 
 
 And took in strains that might create a soul 
 
 Under the ribs of death : but Oh ! ere long 
 
 Too well I did perceive it was the voice 
 
 Of my most honour'd Lady, your dear sister, 
 
 Amaz'd I stood, harrow'd with grief and fear, 
 
 And 0, poor hapless nightingale, thought I, 
 
 How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare ' 
 
 Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste, 
 
 Through paths and turnings often trod by day ; 
 
 Till guided by mine ear I found the place, 
 
 Where that damn'd wizard hid in sly disguise 
 
 (For so by certain signs I knew) had met 
 
 Already, ere my best speed could prevent. 
 
 The aidless innocent Lady, his wish'd prey, 
 
 Who gently ask'd if he had seen such two, 
 
 Supposing him some neighbour villager. 
 
 Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guess'd 
 
 Ye were the two she meant ; with that I sprung 
 
 Into swift flight, till I had found you here. 
 
 But further know I not. 
 
 Sec. Bro. O night and shades, 
 How are ye join'd with hell in triple knot, 
 Against th' unarmed weakness of one virgin, 
 Alone, and helpless ! Is this the confidence 
 You gave me, Brother ? 
 
 Eld. Bro. Yes, and keep it still. 
 Lean on it safely ; not a period 
 Shall be unsaid for me : against the threats 
 Of malice or of sorcery, or that power 
 Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm, 
 \^irtue may be assail'd, but never hurt 
 
 urpris'd by unjust force, but not inthrall'd ; 
 Yea even that which mischief meant most harm, 
 Shall in the happy trial prove most glory ; 
 But evil on itself shall back recoil. 
 And mix no more with goodness, when at last 
 Gather'd like scum, and settled to itself. 
 
C« MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 It shall be in eternal restless change 
 
 Self-fed, and self-consumed : if this fail, 
 
 The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, 
 
 And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's on, 
 
 Against th' opposing will and arm of heaven 
 
 May never this just sword be lifted up ; 
 
 But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt 
 
 With all the grisly legions that troop 
 
 Under the sooty flag of Acheron, 
 
 Harpies and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms 
 
 *Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll find him out, 
 
 And force him to restore his purchase back, 
 
 Or drag him by the curls to a foul death, 
 
 Curs'd as his life. 
 
 Spir. Alas I good vent'rous youth, 
 I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise ; 
 But here thy sword can do thee little stead ; 
 Far other arms, and other weapons must 
 Be those that quell the might of hellish charms : 
 He, with his bare wand, can unthread thy joints, 
 And crumble all thy sinews. 
 
 Eld. Bro. Why pr'ythee. Shepherd, 
 How durst thou then thyself approach so near, 
 As to make this relation ? 
 
 Spir. Care and utmost shifts 
 How to secure the Lady from surprisal. 
 Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad. 
 Of small regard to see to, yet well skill'd. 
 In every virtuous plant and healing herb, 
 That spreads her verdant leaf to th' morning ray : 
 He lov'd me well, and oft would beg me sing, 
 Which when I did, he, on the tender grass. 
 Would sit and hearken e'en to ecstacy. 
 And in requital ope his leathern scrip, 
 And show me simples of a thousand names, 
 Telling their strange and vigorous faculties : 
 Among the rest a small unsightly root, 
 But of divine effect, he cull'd me out ; 
 The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, 
 
MASK OF COMTTS. 83 
 
 But in another country, as he said, 
 
 Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil : 
 
 Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain 
 
 Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon ; 
 
 And yet more med'cinal is it than that Moly 
 
 That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave : 
 
 He call'd it Haemony, and gave it me, 
 
 And bade me keep it as of sov'reign use 
 
 'Gainst all enchantments, mildew, blast, or damp, 
 
 Or ghastly furies' apparition. 
 
 I purs'd it up, but little reck'ning made. 
 
 Till now that this extremity compell'd. 
 
 But now I find it true ; for by this means 
 
 ( knew the foul enchanter though disguis'd, 
 
 Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells, 
 
 And yet came off: if you have this about you, 
 
 (As I will give you when we go,) you may 
 
 Boldly assault the necromancer's hall ; 
 
 Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood, 
 
 And brandish'd blade rush on him, break his glass, 
 
 And shed the luscious liquor on the ground. 
 
 But seize his wand ; though he and his curs'd crew 
 
 Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high. 
 
 Or, like the sons of Vulcan, vomit smoke. 
 
 Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink, 
 
 Eld. Bro. Thyrsis, lead on a pace, I'll follow thee, 
 And some good angel bear a shield before us, 
 
 The scene changes to a stately palace^ set out with all 
 manner of deticiousness : soft music, tables spread with 
 all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the 
 Lady set in an enchanted chair, to whom he offers hi 
 glass, which she puts by, and attempts to rise. 
 
 Com. Nay, Lady, sit ; if I but wave this wand, 
 four nerves are all chasn'd up in alabaster, 
 A-nd you a statue, or as Daphne was 
 Root-bound, that fled Apollo. 
 
 Lady. Fool, do not boast. 
 Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 
 
84 MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 With all thy charms, aUhough this corporal rind 
 Thou hast immanacled, while heaven sees good. 
 
 Com. Why are you vex'd, Lady ? Why do ye 
 frown ? 
 Here dwell no frowns, nor anger; from these gates 
 Sorrow flies far : See here be all the pleasures 
 That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts, 
 When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 
 Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season. 
 And first behold this cordial julap here. 
 That flames and dances in his crystal bounds, 
 With spirits of balm, and fragrant syrups mix'd. 
 Not that Nepenthes, which the wife of Thone 
 In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena, 
 Is of such power to stir up joy as this, 
 To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst, 
 Why should you be so cruel to yourself. 
 And to those dainty limbs which nature lent 
 For gentle usage, and soft delicacy ? 
 But you invert the covenants of her trust, 
 And harshly deal, like an ill borrower, 
 With that which you receiv'd on other terms, 
 Scorning the unexempt condition 
 By which all mortal frailty may subsist, 
 Refreshment after toil, ease after pain. 
 That have been tir'd all day without repast, 
 And timely rest have wanted ; but, fair virgin, 
 This will restore all soon. 
 
 Lady. 'Twill not, false traitor, 
 'Twill not restore the truth and honesty 
 That thou hast banish'd from thy tongue with lies. 
 Was this the cottage, and the safe abode 
 Thou told'st me of ? what grim aspects are these, 
 These ugly-headed monsters ? Mercy guard me ! 
 Hence with thy brew'd enchantments, foul deceiver *, 
 Hast thou betray'd my credulous innocence 
 With visor'd falsehood, and base forgery ? 
 And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here 
 With liquorish baits fit to ensnare a brute ? 
 
KAtfL OF COMUS. 8S 
 
 Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets, 
 I would not taste thy treasonous offer ; none 
 But such as are good men can give good things, 
 And that wiiich is not good is not delicious 
 To a well-govern 'd and wise appetite. 
 
 Com. O foolishness of men ! that lend their ears 
 To those budge doctors of the stoic fur, 
 And fetch their precepts from the cynic tub, 
 Praising the lean and sallow abstinence. 
 Wherefore did nature pour her bounties forth, 
 With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, 
 Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks, 
 Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, 
 But all to please and sate the curious taste ? 
 And set to work millions of spinning worms, 
 That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair'd 
 
 silk, 
 To deck her sons ; and that no corner might 
 Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins 
 She hutch'd th' all worshipp'd ore, and precious gems 
 To store her children with ; if all the world 
 Should in a pet of temp'rance feed on pulse, 
 Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, 
 Th' all-giver would be unthank'd, would be unprais'd 
 Not half his riches known, and yet despis'd. 
 And we should serve him as a grudging master, 
 As a penurious niggard of his wealth, 
 And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons. 
 Who would be quite surcharg'd with her own weight, 
 And strangled with her waste fertility, 
 Th' earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark'd with 
 
 plumes. 
 The herds would over-multitude their lords, 
 The sea o'erfraught would sw'ell, and th' unsought 
 
 diamonds 
 Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep, 
 And so bestud with stars, that they below 
 Would grow inur'd to light, and come at last 
 To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows 
 H 
 
S6 MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 List, Lady, be not coy, and be not cozen'd 
 With that same vaunted name virginity. 
 Beauty is nature's coin, must not be hoarded 
 But must be current, and the good thereof 
 Consists in mutual and partaken bliss, 
 Unsavoury in th' enjoyment of itself j 
 If you let slip time, like a neglected rose 
 It withers on the stalk with languish'd head. 
 Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown 
 In courts, in feasts, and high solemnities, 
 Where most may wonder at the workmanship; 
 It is for homely features to keep home, 
 They had their name thence ; coarse conplexions 
 And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply 
 The sampler, and to tease the housewife's wool. 
 WTiat need a vermil-tinctur'd lip for that, 
 Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn ? 
 There was another meaning in these gifts, 
 Think what, and be advis'd, you are but young yet. 
 Lady. I had not thought to have unlock'd my lips 
 In this unhallow'd air, but that this juggler 
 Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes, 
 Obtruding false rules prank'd in reason's garb. 
 I hate when vice can bolt her arguments. 
 And virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 
 Imposter, do not charge most innocent nature, 
 As if she would her children should be riotous 
 With her abundance ; she, good cateress, 
 Means her provision only to the good, 
 That live according to her sober laws, 
 And holy dictate of spare temperance : 
 If every just man, that now pines with want, 
 Had but a moderate and beseeming share 
 Of that which lewdly pamper'd luxury 
 Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, 
 Nature's full blessing would be well dispens'd 
 In unsuperfluous even proportion, 
 And she no whit incumber'd with her store ; 
 And then the giver would be better thank'd, 
 
MASK OF COMXJS. 
 
 ^ 
 
 His praise due paid ; for swinish gluttony 
 Ne'er looks to heaven amidst his gorgeous feast, 
 But with besotted base ingratitude 
 Crams and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on ? 
 Or have I said enough ? To him that dares 
 Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words 
 Against the sun-clad power of chastity, 
 Fain would I something say, yet to what end ? 
 Thou hast not ear nor soul to apprehend 
 The sublime notion, and high mystery. 
 That must be utter'd to unfold the sage 
 And serious doctrine of virginity. 
 And thou art worthy that thou should'st not know 
 More happiness than this thy present lot. 
 Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 
 That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence. 
 Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinc'd ; 
 Yet should I try, the uncontrolled worth 
 Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits 
 To such a flame of sacred vehemence, 
 That dumb things would be mov'd to sympathize, 
 And the brute earth would lend her nerves and shake, 
 Till all thy magic structures rear'd so high, 
 Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head. 
 Com. She fables not, I feel that I do fear 
 Her words set off by some superior power: 
 And though not mortal, yet a cold shudd'ring dew 
 Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove 
 Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus 
 To some of Satan's crew. I must dissemble, 
 And try her yet more strongly. Come, no more, 
 This is mere moral babble, and direct 
 Against the canon laws of our foundation ; 
 I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees 
 And settlings of a melancholy blood : 
 But this will cure all straight, one sip of this 
 Will bathe the drooping spirits, and delight 
 Beyond the bliss of dreams, Be wise, and taste. 
 
88 MASK OF COMtiS* 
 
 The Brothers rush in with swords drawn, wrest his glass 
 out of his hand, and break it against the ground j his 
 rout make sign of resistance, but are alt driven in: 
 The attendant Spirit comes in. 
 
 Spirits What, have you let the false enchanter 
 
 scape 
 
 O ye mistook, ye should have snatch'd his wand 
 And bound him fast ; without his rod revers'd, 
 And backward mutters of dissevering power, 
 We cannot free the Lady that sits here 
 In stony fetters fixed, and motionless : 
 Yet stay, be not disturb'd ; now I bethink me. 
 Some other means I have which may be us'd, 
 Which once of Melibceus old I learn'd. 
 The soothest shepherd that e'er pip'd on plains. 
 There is a gentle nymph not far from hence, 
 That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn 
 
 stream, 
 Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure , 
 Whilome she was the daughter of Locrine, 
 That had the sceptre from his father Brute. 
 She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit 
 Of her enraged stepdame Guendolen, 
 Commended her fair innocence to the flood. 
 That stay'd her flight with his cross flowing course, 
 The water-nymphs that in the bottom play'd, 
 Held up their pearly wrists and took her in. 
 Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall, 
 Who, piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head, 
 And gave her to his daughters to embathe 
 In nectar'd lavers strow'd with asphodil. 
 And through the porch and inlet of each sense 
 Dropp'd in ambrosial oils till she reviv'd, 
 And underwent a quick immortal change, 
 Made goddess of the river ; still she retains 
 Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve 
 Visits the herds along the twilight meadows. 
 Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs 
 That the shrew'd meddling elf delights to make, 
 
MASt OF COMtTS. * 
 
 Which she with precious vial'd liquors heals. 
 
 For which the shepherds at their festivals 
 
 Carol her goodness loiid in rustic lays, 
 
 And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream, 
 
 Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils. 
 
 And, as the old swain said, she can unlock 
 
 The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell, 
 
 [f she be right invok'd in warbled song. 
 
 For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 
 
 To aid a virgin, such as was herself. 
 
 In hard besetting need ; this will I try. 
 
 And add the power of some adjuring verse. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Sabrina fair, 
 
 Listen where thou art sitting 
 Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, 
 
 In twisted braids of lilies knitting 
 The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair ; 
 
 Listen for dear honour's sake, 
 Goddess of the silver lake. 
 Listen and save. 
 Listen and appear to us 
 In name of great Oceanus, 
 By th' earth-shaking Neptune's mace, 
 And Tethy's grave majestic pace. 
 By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look, 
 And the Carpathian wizard's hook, 
 By scaly Triton's winding shell. 
 And old sooth-saying Glaucus' spell, 
 By Leucothea's lovely hands, 
 And her son that rules the strands, 
 By Thetis' tinsel-slipper'd feet, 
 And the songs of Sirens sweet, 
 By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, 
 A.nd fair Ligea's golden comb, 
 V\rherewith she sits on diamond rocks, 
 H* 
 
90 MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 Sleeking her soil alluring locks, 
 By all the nymphs that nightly dance 
 Upon thy streams with wily glance 
 Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 
 From thy coral-paven bed, 
 And bridle in thy headlong wave, 
 Till thou our summons answer'd have. 
 Listen and save. 
 
 Sabrina rises, attended by water-nymphs^ and sings. 
 
 By the rushy-fringed bank, 
 Where grows the willow and the osier dank, 
 
 My sliding chariot stays, 
 Thick set with agate, and the azure sheen 
 Of turkis blue, and em'rald green 
 That in the channel strays ; 
 Whilst from off the waters fleet 
 Thus I set my printless feet 
 O'er the cowslip's velvet head, 
 That bends not as I tread ; 
 Gentle Swain, at thy request 
 I am here. 
 
 Spirit. Goddess dear, 
 We implore thy powerful hand 
 To undo the charmed band 
 Of true virgin here distress'd, 
 Through the force, and through the wile 
 Of unbless'd enchanter vile. 
 
 Sab. Shepherd, 'tis my office best 
 To help ensnar'd chastity : 
 Brightest Lady, look on me ; 
 Thus I sprinkle on thy breast 
 Drops that from my fountain pure 
 I have kept of precious cure. 
 Thrice upon thy finger's tip 
 Thrice upon thy rubied lip ; 
 Next this marble venom'd seat, 
 
MASK OP COMUS. 91 
 
 Smear'd with gums of glutinous heat, 
 I touch with chaste palms moist and cold : 
 Now the spell hath lost his hold ; 
 And I must haste ere morning hour 
 To wait in Amphitrite's bower. 
 
 Sabrina descends^ and the Lady rises out ofh&r seat. 
 
 Spirit. Virgin, daughter of Locrine 
 Sprung of old Anchises' line 
 May thy brimmed waves for this 
 Their full tribute never miss 
 From a thousand petty rills, 
 That tumble down the snowy hills : 
 Summer drouth, or singed air 
 Never scorch thy tresses fair, 
 Nor wet October's torrent flood 
 Thy molten chrystal fill with mud : 
 May thy billows roll ashore 
 The beryl, and the golden ore ; 
 May thy lofty head be crown'd 
 With many a tower and terrace round, 
 And here and there thy banks upon 
 With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 
 
 Come, Lady, while heaven lends us grace, 
 Let us fly this cursed place. 
 Lest the sorcerer us entice 
 With some other new device. 
 Not a waste, or needless sound, 
 Till we come to holier ground ; 
 I shall be your faithful guide 
 Through this gloomy covert wide, 
 And not many furlongs thence 
 Is your Father's residence. 
 Where this night are met in state 
 Many a friend to gratulate 
 His wish'd presence, and beside 
 All the swains that near abide. 
 With jigs, and rural dance resort; 
 
92 MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 We shall catch them at their sport, 
 And our sudden coming there 
 Will double all their mirth and cheer ; 
 Come, let us haste, the stars grow high, 
 But night sits monarch yet in the mid-sky. 
 
 The scene changes^ presentirig Ludlow town and the 
 President's castle i then come in country dancers^ af 
 ter them the attendant Spirit^ with the two Brothers 
 and the Lady, 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Spi. Back, Shepherds, back, enough your play, 
 Till next sun-shine holiday : 
 Here be without duck or nod 
 Other trappings to be trod 
 Of lighter toes, and such court guise 
 As Mercury did first devise 
 With the mincing Dryades 
 On the lawns, and on the leas. 
 
 This second Song presents them to their Father and 
 Mother, 
 
 Noble Lord and Lady bright, 
 I have brought you new delight, 
 Here behold so goodly grown 
 Three fair branches of your own ; 
 Heaven hath timely tried their youth. 
 Their faith, their patience, and their truth, 
 And sent them here through hard assays 
 With a crown of deathless praise, 
 To triumph in victorious dance 
 O'er sensual folly, and intemperance. 
 
 The dances ended., the Spirit epilogizies, 
 
 Spir. To the ocean now I fly, 
 And those happy climes that lie 
 Where day never shuts his eye, 
 
MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 Up in the broad fields of the sky : 
 There I suck the liquid air 
 All amidst the gardens fair 
 Of Hesperus and his daughters three 
 That sing about the golden tree. 
 Along the crisped shades and bowers 
 Revils the spruce and jocund Spring, 
 The Graces, and the rosy bosom'd Hours. 
 Thither all their bounties bring ; 
 That there eternal summer dwells 
 And west-winds with musky wing 
 About the cedarn alleys fling 
 Nard and Cassia's balmy smells. 
 Iris there with humid bow 
 Waters the odorous banks, that blow 
 Flowers of more mingled hue 
 Than her purfled scarf can show. 
 And drenches with Elysian dew 
 (List mortals, if your ears be true) 
 Beds of hyacinth and roses, 
 Where young Adonis oft reposes, 
 Waxing well of his deep wound 
 In slumber soft, and on the ground 
 Sadly sits th' Assyrian queen ; 
 But far above in spangled sheen 
 Celestial Cupid her fam'd son advanc'd, 
 Holds his dear Psyche sweet intranc'd, 
 After her wand'ring labours long 
 Till free consent the gods among 
 Make her his eternal bride. 
 And from her fair unspotted side 
 Two blissful twins are to be born. 
 Youth and Joy ; so Jove hath sworn. 
 But now my task is smoothly done, 
 I can fly, or I can run 
 Quickly to the green earth's end, 
 Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend, 
 And from thence can soar as soon 
 To the corners of the moon. 
 
 93 
 
94 MASK OF COMUS. 
 
 Mortals that would follow me, 
 Love virtue, she alone is free. 
 She can teach you how to climb 
 Higher than the sphery chime ; 
 Or if virtue feeble were, 
 ieaven itself would stoop to her. 
 
 END OF THE MASK. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES 
 
 DRAMATIC POEM 
 
 THE PERSONS. 
 
 Samson. 
 
 Manoah, the Father of Samson. 
 
 Dalila, his Wife. 
 
 Harapha of Gath, 
 
 Public Officer. 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 Chorus of Danjteti, 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Samson made captive, blind, an J now in the prison at Gaza, titer* 
 to labour as in a common work-house, on a festival day, in the 
 general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open air, ta 
 a place nigh, some-what retired, there to sit awhile and bemoan 
 his condition. Where he happens at length to be visited by cer- 
 tain friends and equals of his tribe, ■which make the Chorus, 
 who seek to comfort him what they can ; then by his old father 
 Manoah, who endeavors the like, and withal tells him his pur- 
 pose to procure his liberty by ransom ; lastly, that this feast was 
 proclaimed by the Philistines as a day of thanksgiving for their 
 deliverance from the hands of Samson, which yet more troubles 
 him. Manoah then departs to prosecute his endeavour with the 
 Philistian lords for Samson's redemption ; who, in the mean- 
 while, IS visited by other persons ; and lastly by a public officer 
 to require his coming to the feast before the lords and people, to 
 play and show his strength in their presence j he at first refuses, 
 dismissing the public officer with absolute denial to come ; at 
 length, persuaded inwardly that this was from God, he yields to 
 go along with him, who came now the second time with great 
 threatenings to fetch him ; the Chorus yet remaining on the 
 place, Manoah returns full of joyful hope, to procure erelong his 
 son's deliverance : in the midst of which discourse a Hebrew 
 comes in haste, confusedly al first, amd afterwards more distinct- 
 Ijr relating the catastrophe, jvhat Samson had done to the Phi- 
 listines, and by accident tc himself; wherewith the tragedy 
 ends. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES.* 
 
 The Scene before the Prison in Gaza. 
 
 Samson, 
 
 A LITTLE onward lend thy guiding hand 
 
 To these dark steps, a little farther on ; 
 
 For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade, 
 
 There I am wont to sit, when any chance 
 
 Relieves me from my task of servile toil, 
 
 Daily in the common prison else injoin'd me, 
 
 Where I a prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw 
 
 The air imprison'd also, close and damp, 
 
 Unwholesome draught : but here I feel amends, 
 
 The breath of heaven fresh blowing, pure and sweet, 
 
 With day-spring born ; here leave me to respire. 
 
 This day a solemn feast the people hold 
 
 To Dagon, their sea-idol, and forbid 
 
 Laborious works ; unwillingly this rest 
 
 Their superstition yields me ; hence with leave 
 
 Retiring from the popular noise, I seek 
 
 This unfrequented place to find some ease. 
 
 Ease to the body some, none to the mind 
 
 ♦ Samson Agonistes, that is, Samson an Actor, Samson repre- 
 sented in a play. j 
 
98 SAMSON AG0NISTE5. 
 
 From restless thoughts that like a deadly swann 
 
 Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, 
 
 But rush upon me thronging, and present 
 
 Times past, what once I was, and what am now 
 
 O wherefore was my birth from heaven foretold 
 
 Twice by an angel, who at last in sight 
 
 Of both my parents all in flames ascended 
 
 From off the altar, where an offering burn'd, 
 
 As in a fiery column charioting 
 
 His godlike presence, and from some great act 
 
 Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race ? 
 
 Why was my breeding order'd and prescrib'd 
 
 As of a person separate to God, 
 
 Design'd for great exploits ; if I must die 
 
 Betray'd, captiv'd, and both my eyes put out, 
 
 Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze ; 
 
 To grind in brazen fetters under task 
 
 With this heaven-gifted strength ? O glorious 
 
 strength 
 Put to the labour of a beast, debas'd 
 Lower than bondslave ! Promise was that I 
 Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver : 
 Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him 
 Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves. 
 Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke ; 
 Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt 
 Divine prediction ; what if all foretold 
 Had been fulfill'd but through mine own default 
 Whom have I to complain of but myself? 
 Who this high gift of strength committed to me, 
 In what part lodg'd, how easily bereft me, 
 Under the seal of silence could not keep. 
 But weakly to a woman must reveal it, 
 O'ercome with importunity and tears. 
 O impotence of mind, in body strong ! 
 But what is strength without a double share 
 Of wisdom, vast, unwieldy, burdensome, 
 Proudly secure, yet liable to fall 
 By weakest subtleties, not made to rule, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. Vi 
 
 But to subserve where wisdom bears command! 
 God, when he gave me strength, to show withal 
 How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair. 
 But peace, I must not quarrel with the will 
 Of highest dispensation, which herein 
 Haply had ends above my reach to know : 
 Suffices that to me strength is my bane, 
 And proves the source of all my miseries ; 
 So many, and so huge, that each apart 
 Would ask a life to wail, but chief of all, 
 O loss of sight, of thee I most complain ! 
 Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, 
 Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepid age ! 
 Light, the prime work of God to me is extinct, 
 And all her various objects of delight 
 Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eas'd, 
 Inferior to the vilest now become 
 Of man or worm ; the vilest here excel me, 
 They creep, yet see, I dark in light expos'd 
 To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong, 
 Within doors, or without, still as a fool, 
 In power of others, never in my own ; 
 Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. 
 O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon. 
 Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse 
 Without all hope of day I 
 O first created Beam, and thou great Word, 
 Let there be light, and light was over all ; 
 Why am I thus bereav'd thy prime decree ? 
 The sun to me is dark 
 A.nd silent as the moon, 
 When she deserts the night 
 lid in her vacant interlunar cave, 
 ^ince light so necessary is to life, 
 And almost life itself, if it be true 
 That light is in the soul. 
 She all in every part ; why was the sight 
 To such a tender ball as th' eye coniin'd, 
 So obvious and so easy to be quench'd ? 
 
100 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 And not as feeling through all parts diffus'd, 
 
 That she might look at will through every pore ? 
 
 Then had I not been thus exil'd from light, 
 
 As in the land of darkness yet in light ; 
 
 To live a life half dead, a living death, 
 
 And buried ; but O yet more miserable ! 
 
 Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave, 
 
 Buried, yet not exempt 
 
 By privilege of death and burial 
 
 From worst of other evils, pains and wrongs, 
 
 But made hereby obnoxious more 
 
 To all the miseries of life, 
 
 Life in captivity 
 
 Among inhuman foes. 
 
 But who are these ? for with joint pace I hear 
 
 The tread of many feet steering this way ; 
 
 Perhaps my enemies who come to stare 
 
 At my affliction, and perhaps t' insult, 
 
 Their daily practice to afflict me more. 
 
 Chor. This, this is he ; softly awhile ! 
 Let us not break in upon him : 
 O change beyond report, thought, or belief! 
 See how he lies at random, carelessly diffus'd, 
 With languish'd head unpropp'd, 
 As one past hope, abandon'd, 
 And by himself given over ; 
 In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds 
 O'er-worn and soil'd ; 
 
 Or do my eyes misrepresent ? Can this be he, 
 That heroic, that renown'd, 
 Irresistible Samson ? whom unarmed 
 No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast could with- 
 stand ; 
 Who tore the lion, as the lion tears the kid, 
 Ran on imbattled armies clad in iron, 
 And weaponless himself 
 Made arms ridiculous, useless the forgery 
 Of brazen shield and spear, the hammer'd cuiraa«i 
 Chalybean temper'd steel, and frock of mail 
 
SAMSON AGOWISTB^. 101 
 
 Adamantean proof; 
 
 But safest he who stood aloof, 
 
 When insupportably his foot advanc'd, 
 
 In scorn of their proud arms and warlike tools, 
 
 Spurn'd them to death by troops. The bold Asca • 
 
 lonite 
 Fled from his lion ramp, old warriors tum'd 
 Their plated backs under his heel ; 
 Or grov'ling soil'd their crested helmets in the dust, 
 Then with what trivial weapon came to hand, 
 The jaw of a dead ass, his sword of bone, 
 A thousand foreskins fell, the flower of Palestine, 
 In Ramath-lechi famous to this day. 
 Then by main force pull'd up, and on his shoulders 
 
 bore 
 The gates of Azza, post, and massy bar, 
 Up to the hill by Hebron, seat of giants old, 
 "No journey of a Sabbath-day, and loaded so ; 
 Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up heaven* 
 Which shall I first bewail. 
 Thy bondage or lost sight, 
 Prison within prison 
 Inseparably dark ? 
 
 Thou art become (0 worst imprisonment !) 
 The dungeon of thyself; thy soul 
 (Which men enjoying sight oft without cause cotH^ 
 
 plain) 
 Imprison'd now indeed, 
 In real darkness of the body dwells, 
 Shut up from outward light 
 T' incorprate with gloomy nighty 
 For inward light, alas ' 
 Puts forth no visual beam. 
 O mirror of our fickle state, 
 Since man on earth uparallel'd ! 
 The rarer thy example stands, 
 By how much from the top of wond'rous glory. 
 Strongest of mortal men, 
 
 To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fallen^ 
 I* 
 
f ^ SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 For him I reckon not in high estate 
 
 Whom long descent of birth 
 
 Or the sphere of fortune raises ; 
 
 But thee whose strength, while virtue was her mate, 
 
 Might have subdued the earth, 
 
 Universally crown'd with highest praises. 
 
 SaTiis. I hear the sound of words, their sense the air 
 Dissolves unjointed ere it reach my ear. 
 
 Chor. He speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in 
 might. 
 The glory late of Israel, now the grief ; 
 We come thy friends and neighbours not unknown 
 From Eshtaol and Zora's fruitful vale, 
 To visit or bewail thee, or if better. 
 Counsel or consolation we may bring. 
 Salve to thy sores ; apt words have power to 'swage 
 The tumours of a troubled mind, 
 And are as balm to fester'd wounds. 
 
 Sams. Your coming, friends, revives me, for [ 
 learn 
 Now of my own experience, not by talk. 
 How counterfeit a coin they are who friends 
 Bear in their superscription, (of the most 
 I would be understood,) in prosp'rous days 
 They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their head, 
 Not to be found though sought. Ye see, O friends, 
 How many evils have enclos'd me round ; 
 Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me, 
 Blindness, for had I sight, confus'd with shame, 
 How could I once look up, or heave the head, 
 Who like a foolish pilot have shipwreck'd 
 My vessel trusted to me from above, 
 Gloriously rigg'd ; and for a word, a tear, 
 Fool, have divulg'd the secret gift of God 
 To a deceitful woman ? tell me friends, 
 Am I not sung and proverb'd for a fool 
 In every street? do they not say, how well 
 Are come upon him his deserts ? yet why ? 
 Immeasurable strength they might behold 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 103 
 
 In me, of wisdom nothing more than mean ; 
 This with the other should, at least, have pair'd, 
 These two, proportion'd ill, drove me transverse. 
 
 Chor. Tax not divine disposal ; wisest men 
 Have err'd, and by bad women been deceiv'd ; 
 And shall again, pretend they ne'er so wise. 
 Deject not then so overmuch thyself, 
 Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides ; 
 Yet truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder 
 Why thou shouldst wed Philistian women rather 
 Than of thy own tribe fairer, or as fair, 
 At least of thy own nation, and as noble. 
 
 Sams. The first I saw at Timna, and she pleas'd 
 Me, not my parents, that I sought to wed 
 The daughter of an infidel ; they knew not 
 That what I motion'd was of God ; I knew 
 From intimate impulse, and therefore urg'd 
 The marriage on ; that by occasion hence 
 •I might begin Israel's deliverance, 
 The work to which I was divinely call'd. 
 She proving false, the next I took to wife 
 (O that I never had ! fond wish too late,) 
 Was in the vale of Sorec, Dalila, 
 That specious monster, my accomplish'd snare. 
 I thought it lawful from my former act, 
 And the same end : still watching to oppress 
 Israel's oppressors : of what now I suffer 
 She was not the prime cause but I myself, 
 Who vanquish'd with a peal of words (O weakness !) 
 Gave up my fort of silence to a woman. 
 
 Chor. In seeking just occasion to provoke 
 The Philistine, thy country's enemy, 
 Thou never wast remiss, I bear thee witness : 
 Vet Israel still serves with all his sons. 
 
 Sams. That fault I take not on me, but transfer 
 On Israel's governors, and heads of tribes, 
 Who seeing those great acts, which God had done 
 Singly by me against their conqueror, 
 Acknowledg'd not, or not at all consider'd 
 
104 SAMSON AGONISTEa. 
 
 Deliverance ofFer'd : I on the other side 
 
 Us'd no ambition to commend my deeds, 
 
 The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the 
 
 doer; 
 But they persisted deaf and would not seem 
 To count them things worth notice, till at length 
 Their lords the Philistines with gather'd powers 
 Enter'd Judea seeking me, who then 
 Safe to the rock of Etham was retir'd, 
 Not flying, but fore-casting in what place 
 To set upon them, what advantag'd best : 
 Meanwhile the men of Judah, to prevent 
 The harass of their land, beset me round ; 
 I willingly on some conditions came 
 Into their hands, and they as gladly yield me 
 To the uncircumcised a welcome prey, 
 Bound with two cords : but cords to me were threads 
 Touch'd with the flame ; on their whole host I flew 
 XJnarm'd, and with a trivial weapon feli'd 
 Their choicest youth ; they only liv'd who fled. 
 Had Judah that day join'd, or one whole tribe, 
 They had by this possess'd the towers of Gath, 
 And lorded over them whom now they serve ; 
 But what more oft in nations grown corrupt 
 And by their vices brought to servitude, 
 Than to love bondage more than liberty. 
 Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty ; 
 And to despise, or envy, or suspect 
 Whom God hath of his special favour rais'd 
 As their deliverer ; if he aught begin. 
 How frequent to desert him, and at last 
 To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds ? 
 
 Chor. Thy words to my remembrance bring 
 How Succoth and the fort of Penuel 
 Their great deliverer contemn'd, 
 The matchless Gideon in pursuit 
 Of Madian and her vanquish'd kings : 
 And how ingrateful Ephraim 
 Had dealt with Jephtha, who by argument. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 105 
 
 Kot worse than by his shield and spear, 
 Defended Israel from the Ammonite 
 Had not his prowess quell'd their pride 
 In that sore battle, when so many died 
 Without reprieve adjudg'd to death, 
 For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth. 
 
 Sams. Of such examples add me to the roll. 
 Me easily indeed mine may neglect, 
 But God's propos'd deliverance not so. 
 
 Chor. Just are the ways of God, 
 And justifiable to men : 
 Unless there be who think not God at all ; 
 If any be, they walk obscure ; 
 For of such doctrine never was there school, 
 But the heart of the fool, 
 And no man therein doctor but himaelf. 
 ■ Yet more there be who doubt his ways not just, 
 As to his own edicts found contradicting. 
 Then give the reins to wand'ring thought, 
 Regardless of his glory's diminution ; 
 Till by their own perplexities involv'd 
 They ravel more, still less resolv'd, 
 But never find self-satisfying solution. 
 
 As if they would confine th' Interminable, 
 And tie him to his own prescript. 
 Who made our laws to bind us, not himself. 
 And hath full right t' exempt 
 Whom so it pleases him by choice 
 From national obstriction, without taint 
 Of sin or legal debt : 
 For with his own laws he can best dispense. 
 
 He would not else who never wanted means, 
 Nor in respect of th' enemy just cause 
 To set his people free. 
 Have prompted this heroic Nazarite, 
 Against his vow of strictest purity, 
 To seek in marriage that falacious bride, 
 Unclean, unchaste. 
 
 Down reason then, at least vain reasonings down, 
 
106 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Though reason here aver 
 
 That moral verdict quits her of unclean ; 
 
 Unchaste was subsequent, her stain not his. 
 
 But see here comes thy reverend sire 
 With careful steps, locks white as down, 
 Old Manoah : advise 
 Forthwith how thou ought'st to receive him. 
 
 Sams. Ah me, another inward grief awak'd 
 With mention of that name renews th' assault. 
 
 Man. Brethren and men of Dan, for such ye seem* 
 Though in this uncouth place : if old respect 
 As I suppose, towards your once gloried friend, 
 My son now captive, hither hath inform'd 
 Your younger feet, while mine cast back with 9%Q 
 Came lagging after ; say if he be here. 
 
 Chor. As signal now in low dejected state, 
 As erst in highest, behold him where he lies. 
 
 Man. O miserable change ! is this the man, 
 That invincible Sampson, far renown'd, 
 The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength 
 Equivalent to angels walk'd their streets, 
 None offering fight ; who single combatant 
 Duell'd their armies rank'd in proud array, 
 Himself an army, now unequal match 
 To save himself against a coward arm'd 
 At one spear's length. O ever failing trust 
 In mortal strength ! and oh what not in man 
 Deceivable and vain ! Nay what thing good 
 Pray'd for, but often proves our wo, our bane ^ 
 I pray'd for children, and thought barrenness 
 In wedlock a reproach ; I gain'd a son, 
 And such a son as all men hail'd me happy : 
 Who would be now a father in my stead ? 
 O wherefore did God grant me my request, 
 And as a blessing with such pomp adorn'd ? 
 Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt 
 Our earnest prayers, then given with solemn hand 
 As graces draw a scorpion's tail behind ? 
 For this did th' angels twice descend ? for this 
 
55AMSON AGONISTES. 107 
 
 Ordain'd thy nurture holy, as of a plant 
 Select, and sacred, glorious for awhile 
 The miracle of men ; then in an hour 
 [nsnar'd, assaulted, overcome, led bound, 
 Thy foes' derision, captive, poor, and blind, 
 nto a dungeon thrust, to work with slaves ? 
 A.las ! methinks whom God hath chosen once 
 To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty err, 
 He should not so o'erwhelm, as a thrall 
 Subject him to such foul indignities. 
 Be it but for honour's sake of former deeds. 
 
 Sams. Appoint not heavenly disposition, father ; 
 Nothing of all these evils hath befallen me 
 But justly ; I myself have brought them on, 
 Sole author I, sole cause ; if aught seem vile, 
 As vile hath been my folly, who have profan'd 
 The mystery of God given me under pledge 
 Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman, 
 A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. 
 This well I knew, nor was at all surpris'd, 
 But warn'd by oft experience ; did not she 
 Of Timna first betray me, and reveal 
 The secret wrested from me in her height 
 Of nuptial love profess'd, carrying it straight 
 To them who had corrupted her, my spies, 
 A.nd rivals ? In this other was there found 
 More faith, who also in her prime of love, 
 Spousal embraces, vitiated with gold. 
 Though ofier'd only, by the scent conceiv'd 
 Her spurious first-born : treason against me ? 
 Thrice she assay'd with flatt'ring prayers and sighs, 
 And amorous reproaches, to win from me 
 My capital secret, in what part my strength 
 Lay stor'd, in what part summ'd, that she might 
 
 know ; 
 Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport 
 Her importunity, each time perceiving 
 How openly, and with what impudence 
 She purposed to betray me, and (which was worse 
 
X08 SAMSON AGONIST£&, 
 
 Than tindi^embled hate) with what contempt 
 She sought to make me traitor to myself; 
 Yet the fourth time, when mustering all her wiles, 
 With blandish'd parleys, feminine assaults, 
 Tongue-batteries, she surceas'd not day nor night 
 To storm me, over-watch'd, and wearied out 
 4t times when men seeks most repose and rest, 
 ^ yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart, 
 Who with a grain of manhood well resolv'd 
 Might easily have shook off all her snares : 
 But foul effeminaey held me yok'd 
 Her bond slave ; O indignity, O blot 
 To honour and religion ! servile mind 
 Rewarded well with servile punishment ! 
 The base degree to which I now am fallen. 
 These rags, this grinding is not yet so base 
 As was my former servitude, ignoble. 
 Unmanly, ignominious, infamous. 
 True slavery, and that blindness worse than this, 
 That saw not how degenerately I serv'd. 
 
 Man. I cannot praise thy marriage choices, son, 
 Rather approv'd them not; but thou didst plead 
 Divine impulsion, prompting how thou might'st 
 Find some occasion to infest our foes. 
 I state not that ; this I am sure, our foes 
 Found soon occasion thereby to make thee 
 Their captive, and their triumph ; thou the sooner 
 Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms 
 To violate the secret trust of silence 
 Deposited within thee ; which to have kept 
 Tacit, was in thy power : true ; and thou bear'st 
 Enough, and more, the burden of that fault ; 
 Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying 
 That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains, 
 This day the Philistines a popular feast 
 Here celebrate in Gaza ; and proclaim 
 Great pomp, and sacrifice, and praises loud 
 To Dagon, as their god who hath deliver'd 
 Thee, Samson, bound and blind into their hands, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. . 109 
 
 Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain. 
 So Dagon shall be magnified, and God, 
 Besides whom is no god, compar'd with idols, 
 Disglorified, blasphem'd, and had in scorn 
 By the idolatrous rout amidst their wine ; 
 Which to have come to pass by means of thee, 
 Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest, 
 Of all reproach the most with shame that ever 
 Could have befallen thee and thy father's house. 
 Sams. Father, I do acknowledge and confess 
 That I this honour, I this pomp have brought 
 To Dagon, and advanc'd his praises high 
 Among the Heathen round ; to God have brought 
 Dishonour, obloquy, and op'd the mouths 
 Of idolists, and atheists ; have brought scandal 
 To Israel, diffidence of God, and doubt 
 In feeble hearts, propense enough before 
 To waver, or fall off and join with idols ; 
 Which is my chief affliction, shame, and sorrow, 
 The anguish of my soul, that suffers not 
 Mine eye to harbour sleep, or thoughts to rest. 
 This only hope relieves me, that the strife 
 With me hath end ; all the contest is now 
 'Twixt God and Dagon ; Dagon hath presumed, 
 Me overthrown, to enter lists with God, 
 His deity comparing and preferring 
 Before the God of Abraham. He, be sure, 
 Will not connive, or linger, thus provok'd, 
 But will arise and his great name assert : ^ 
 Dagon must stoop, and shall ere long receive 
 Such a discomfit, as shall quite despoil him 
 Of all these boasted trophies won on me, 
 And with confusion blank his worshippers. 
 Man. With cause this hope relieves me, and these 
 words 
 I as a propehcy receive ; For God, 
 Nothing more certain, will not long defer 
 To vindicate the glory of his name 
 Against all competition, nor will long 
 K 
 
110 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Indure it doubtful whether God be Lord, 
 
 Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be done ? 
 
 Thou must not in the meanwhile here forgot 
 
 Lie in this miserable loathsome plight 
 
 Neglected. I already have made way 
 
 To some Philistian lords, with whom to treat 
 
 About thy ransom ; well they may by this 
 
 Have satisfied their utmost of revenge 
 
 By pains and slaveries, worse than death inflicted 
 
 On thee, who now no more canst do them harm. 
 
 Sams. Spare that proposal, father, spare the trouble 
 Of that solicitation ; let me here, 
 As I deserve, pay on my punishment ; 
 And expiate, if possible, my crime, 
 Shameful garrulity. To have reveal'd 
 Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend. 
 How heinous had the fact been, how deserving 
 Contempt and scorn of all, to be excluded 
 All friendship, and avoided as a blab, 
 The mark of fool set on his front ? 
 But I God's counsel have not kept, his holy secret 
 Presumptuously have publish'd, impiously, 
 Weakly at least, and shamefully : a sin 
 That Gentiles in their parables condemn 
 To their abyss and horrid pains confin'd. 
 
 Man. Be penitent and for thy fault contrite, 
 But act not in thy own affliction, son ; 
 Repent the sin, but if the punishment 
 Thou canst avoid, self-preservation bids ; 
 Or th' execution leave to high disposal, 
 A.nd let another hand, not thine, exart 
 Thy penal forfeit from thyself; perhaps 
 Ixod will relent, and quit thee all his debt ; 
 Who ever more approves and more accepts 
 (Best pleas'd with humMe and filial submission) 
 Him who imploring mercy sues for life, 
 Than who self rigorous chooses death as due ; 
 Which argues over-just, and self-displeas'd 
 For self-offence, more than for God offended. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. Ill 
 
 Reject not then wKat offer'd means ; who knows 
 But God hath set before us, to return thee 
 Home to thy country and his sacred house, 
 Where thou mayst bring thy offerings to avert 
 His further ire, with prayers and vows renew'd? 
 
 S^ms. His pardon I implore ; but as for life. 
 To what end should I seek it ? when in strength 
 All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes 
 With youthful courage and magnanimous thoughts 
 Of birth from heaven foretold and high exploits, 
 Full of divine instinct, after some proof 
 Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond 
 The sons of Anak, famous now and blaz'd, 
 Fearless of danger, like a petty god 
 I walk'd about admir'd of all, and dreaded 
 On hostile ground, none daring my affront. 
 Then swoln with pride into the snare I fell 
 Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains, 
 Soften'd with pleasure and voluptuous life ; 
 At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge 
 Of all my strength in the lacivious lap 
 Of a deceitfiil concubine, who shore me, 
 Like a tame wether, all my precious fleece. 
 Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoil'd, 
 Shaven and disarm 'd among mine enemies. 
 
 Chor. Desire of wine and all delicious drinks, 
 Which many a famous warrior overturns. 
 Thou couldst repress, nor did the dancing ruby. 
 Sparkling, out pour'd the flavour or the smell. 
 Or taste that cheers the hearts of gods and men, 
 Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. 
 
 Sams. Wherever fountain or fresh current flow'd 
 ^.gainst the eastern ray, translucent, pure, 
 With touch ethereal of heaven's fiery rod, 
 C drank, from the clear milky juice allaying 
 Thirst, and refresh'd ; nor envied them the grape 
 Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes. 
 
 Chor. O madness, to think use of strongest wines 
 Aud strongesj drinks our chief support of health, 
 
112 SAMSOK AGONiSfSS. 
 
 When God with these forbidden made choice to reat 
 His mi'ghty champion, strong above compare, 
 Whose drink was only from the liquid brook. 
 
 Sams. But what avail'd this temp 'ranee, not com- 
 plete 
 A.gainst another object more enticing ? 
 What boots it at one gate to make defence, 
 And at another to let in the foe. 
 Effeminately vanquish'd ? by which means, 
 Now blind, dishearten'd, sham'd, dishonour'd, quell'd, 
 To what can I be useful, wherein serve 
 My nation, and the work from heaven impos'd, 
 But to sit idle on the household hearth, 
 A burdenous drone ; to visitants a gaze, 
 Or pitied object, these redundant locks 
 Robustuous to no purpose clust'ring down. 
 Vain monument of strength ; till length of years 
 And sedentary numbness craze mj limbs 
 To a contemptible old age obscure ; 
 Here rather let me drudge and earn my breads 
 Till vermin or the draff of servile food 
 Consume me, and oft-invocated death 
 Hasten the welcome end of all my pains. 
 
 Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with 
 that gift 
 Which was expressly given thee to annoy them ? 
 Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle, 
 Inglorious, unemploy'd, with age out-worn. 
 But God who caus'd a fountain at thy prayer 
 From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst t' allay 
 After the brunt of battle, can as easy 
 Cause light again within thy eyes to spring. 
 Wherewith to serve him better than thou hast ; 
 And I persuade me so ; why else this strength 
 Miraculous yet remaining in those locks ? 
 His might continues in thee not for naught, 
 Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus. 
 
 Sam.s. All otherwise to me my thoughts portend, 
 That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES- 113 
 
 Nor th' other light of life continue long. 
 But yield to double darkness nigh at hand : 
 So much I feel my genial spirits droop, 
 My hopes all flat, nature within me seems 
 In all her functions weary of herself, 
 My race of glory run, and race of shame, 
 And I shall shortly be with them that rest. 
 
 Man, Believe not these suggestions which proceed 
 From anguish of the mind and humours black 
 That mingle with thy fancy. I, however. 
 Must not omit a father's timely care 
 To prosecute the means of thy deliverance 
 By ransom, or how else : meanwhile be calm, 
 And healing words from these thy friends admit. 
 
 Sams. O that torment should not be confin'd 
 To th« body's wounds and sores, 
 With maladies innumerable 
 In heart, head, breast and reins ; 
 But must secret passage find 
 To th' inmost mind, 
 There exercise all his fierce accidents, 
 And on her purest spirits prey, 
 As on entrails, joints, and limbs, 
 With answerable pains but more intense, 
 Though void of corporal sense. 
 
 My griefs not only pain me 
 As a ling'ring disease, 
 But fi.nding no redress ferment and rage, 
 Nor less than wounds immedicable 
 Rankle, and fester, and gangrene 
 To black mortification. 
 
 Thoughts, my tormentors arm'd with deadly stings 
 Maagle my apprehensive tenderest parts, 
 Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise 
 Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb 
 Or medicinal liquor can assuage, 
 Nor breath of vel^nal air from snowy Alp. 
 Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er 
 To death's benumbing opium as my only cure : 
 
114 SAMSOK AGONISTES. 
 
 Thence faintings, swoonings of despait, 
 And sense of heaven's desertion. 
 
 I was his nursling once and choice delight, 
 His destin'd from the womb, 
 Promis'd by heavenly message twice descending ; 
 Under his special eye 
 Abstemious I grew up and thriv'd amain ; 
 He led me on to mightiest deeds 
 Above the nerve of mortal arm 
 Against th' uncircumcis'd, our enemies ; 
 But now hath cast me off as never known, 
 And to those cruel enemies, 
 Whom I by his appointment had provok'd, 
 Left me all helpless with th' irreparable loss 
 Of sight, reserved alive to be repeated 
 The subject of their cruelty or scorn. 
 Nor am 1 in the list of them that hope ; 
 Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless ; 
 This one prayer yet remains, might I be heard© 
 
 No long petition, speedy death, 
 
 The close of all my miseries, and the balm. 
 Chor. Many are the sayings of the wise, 
 
 In ancient and in modern books inroll'd, 
 
 Extolling patience as the truest fortitude ; 
 
 And to the bearing well of all calamities. 
 
 All chances incident to man's frail life, 
 
 Consolatories writ 
 
 "With studied argument and much persuasioi: sought. 
 
 Lenient of grief and anxious thought : 
 
 But with th' afflicted in his pangs their sound 
 
 Little prevails, or rather seems a tune 
 
 Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint ! 
 
 Unless he feel within 
 
 Some source of consolation from above, 
 
 Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, 
 
 And fainting spirits uphold. 
 
 God of our fathers, what is man ! 
 
 That thou tow'rds him with hand so variofus, 
 
 Or might I say contrarious, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 115 
 
 Temper'st tliy providence through his short course, 
 
 Not evenly as thou rul'st 
 
 Th' angelic orders and inferior creatures mute, 
 
 Irrational and brute. 
 
 Nor do I name of men the common rout, 
 
 That wand'ring loose about 
 
 Grow up and perish, as the summer fly, 
 
 Heads without name no more remember'd, 
 
 But such as thou hast solemnly elected. 
 
 With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd 
 
 To some great work, thy glory. 
 
 And people's safety, which in part they effect : 
 
 Yet toward these thus dignified, thou oft, 
 
 Amidst their height of noon, 
 
 Changest thy countenance, and thy hand with no 
 
 regard 
 Of highest favours past 
 From thee on them, or them to thee of service. 
 
 Nor only dost degrade them, or remit 
 To hfe obscur'd, which were a fair dismission, 
 iiut throw'st them lower than thou didst exalt them 
 
 high. 
 Unseemly falls in human eye, 
 Too grievous for the trespass or omission; 
 Uit leav'st them to the hostile sword 
 Of heathen and profane, their carcasses 
 1 dogs and fowls a prey, or else captiv^d ; 
 t>r to th' unjust tribunals, under change of times 
 And condemnation of th' ungrateful multitude. 
 It these they 'scape, perhaps in poverty 
 With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down, 
 I'amful diseases and deform 'd. 
 In crude old age : 
 
 Though not disordinate, yet causeless suff'ring- 
 llie punishment of dissolute days : in fine 
 Just or unjust, alike seem miserable, ' 
 
 For oft alike both come to evil end 
 
 Th!'im?i'''r .'f ^' l^'' T^ '^^ ^^^"«^« cliampion. 
 The image of thy strength, and mighty minister. 
 
116 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 What do I beg ? how hast thou dealt already f 
 Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn 
 His labours, for thou canst, to peaceful end. 
 
 But who is this, M^hat thing of sea or land ? 
 Female of sex it seems, 
 That so bedeck'd, ornate, and gay, 
 Comes this way sailing 
 Like a stately ship 
 Of Tarsus, bound for th' isles 
 Of Javan or Gadire, 
 
 With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, 
 Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, 
 Courted by all the winds that hold them play, 
 An amber scent of odorous perfume 
 Her harbinger, a damsel train behind; 
 Some rich Philistian matron she may seem, 
 And now at nearer view, no other certain 
 Than Dalila thy wife. 
 
 Sa77is, My wife, my trait'ress, let her not come 
 near me. 
 
 Chor. Yet on she moves, now stands, and eyes 
 thee fix'd 
 About t' have spoke, but now, with head declin'd, 
 Like a fair flower surcharg'd with dew, she weeps, 
 And words address'd seem into tears dissolved. 
 Wetting the borders of her silken veil : 
 But now again she makes address to speak. 
 
 Dal. With doubtful feet and wavering resolution 
 T came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson, 
 Which to have merited, without excuse, 
 I cannot but acknowledge ; yet if tears 
 May expiate (though the fact more evil drew 
 In the perverse event than I foresaw) 
 My penance hath not slacken'd, though my pardon 
 No way assur'd. But conjugal affection 
 Prevailing over fear, and timorous doubt, 
 Hath led me on, desirous to behold 
 Once more thy face, and know of thy estate, 
 If aught in my^ ability may serve 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 117 
 
 *ro lighten what thou suffer'»t, and appease 
 Thy mind with what amends is in my power, 
 Though late, yet in some part to recompense 
 My rash but more unfortunate misdeed. 
 
 Sams. Out, out hyaena ; these are thy wonted arts, 
 And arts of every woman false like thee, 
 To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray. 
 Then as repentant to submit, beseech. 
 And reconcilement move with feign'd remorse, 
 Confess, and promise wonders in her change, 
 Not truly penitent, but chief to try 
 Her husband, how far urg'd his patience bears. 
 His virtue or weakness which way to assail : 
 Then with more cautious and instructed skill 
 Again transgresses, and again submits ; 
 That wisest and best men full oft beguil'd 
 With goodness principled not to reject 
 The penitent, but ever to forgive, 
 Are drawn to wear out miserable days, 
 Intangled with a pois'nous bosom snake, 
 If not by quick destruction soon cut off 
 As I by thee, to ages an example. 
 
 Dal. Yet hear me, Samson ; not that I endeavour 
 To lessen or extenuate my offence, 
 But that on th' other side if it be weigh'd 
 By itself, with aggravations not surcharg'd. 
 Or else with just allowance counterpois'd, 
 I may, if possible, thy pardon find 
 The easier towards me, or thy hatred less. 
 First granting, as I do, it was a weakness 
 In me, but incident to all our sex, 
 Curiosity, inquisitive, importune 
 Of secrets, then with like infirmity 
 To publish them, both common female faults : 
 Was it not weakness also to make known 
 For importunity, that is for naught. 
 Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety ? 
 To what I did thou show'dst me first the way, 
 But I to enemies reveal'd, and should not* 
 
lis SAMSON AGONISTF.S. 
 
 Nor shouldst thou have trusted that to woman's 
 
 frailty : 
 Ere 1 to thee, thou to thyself was cruel. 
 Let weakness then with weakness come to parle 
 So near related, or the same of kind, 
 Thine forgive mine ; that men may censure thine 
 The gentler, if severely thou exact not 
 More strength from me, than in thyself was found. 
 And what if love, which thou interpret'st hate, 
 The jealousy of love, powerful of sway 
 In human hearts, nor less in mine tow'rds thee, 
 Caus'd what I did ? I saw thee mutable 
 Of fancy, fear'd lest one day thou wouldst leave me 
 As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore 
 How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest : 
 No better way I sav/ than by importuning 
 To learn thy secrets, get into my power 
 The key of strength and safety : thou wilt say. 
 Why then reveal'd ? I v/as assur'd by those 
 Who tempted me, that nothing was design'd 
 Against thee but safe custody, and hold : 
 That made for me ; I knew that liberty 
 Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises, 
 While I at home sat full of cares and fears, 
 Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed ; 
 Here I should still enjoy thee day and night 
 Mine and love's prisoner, not the Philistines, 
 Whole to myself, unhazarded abroad, 
 Fearless at home of partners in my love. 
 These reasons in love's law have pass'd for good, 
 Though fond and reasonless to some perhaps : 
 And love hath oft, well meaning, wrought much wo 
 Yet always pity or pardon hath obtain'd. 
 Be not unlike all others, not austere 
 As thou art strong, inflexible as steel. 
 If thou in strength all mortals dost exceed. 
 In uncompassionate anger do not so. 
 
 Sams. How cunningly the sorceress displays 
 Her own transgressions, to upbraid me mine ? 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 119 
 
 That malice not repentance brought thee hither, 
 
 By this appears ; I gave, thou say'st, th' example, 
 
 I led the way ; bitter reproach, but true ; 
 
 I to myself was false ere thou to mo ; 
 
 Such pardon therefore as I give my folly, 
 
 Take to thy wicked deed ; which when thou see'st 
 
 Impartial, self-severe, inexorable. 
 
 Thou wilt renounce thy seeking, and much rather 
 
 Confess it feign'd ; weakness is thy excu^se, 
 
 And I believe it, weakness to resist 
 
 Philistian gold : if weakness may excuse. 
 
 What murderer, what traitor, parricide, 
 
 Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it ? 
 
 All wickedness is weakness : that plea, therefoi \ 
 
 With God or man will gain thee no remission. 
 
 But love constrain'd thee ; call it furious rage 
 
 To satisfy thy lust ; love seeks to have love ; 
 
 My love how couldst thou hope, who took'st the way 
 
 To raise in me inexpiable hate, 
 
 Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd ? 
 
 In vain thou striv'st to cover shame with shame, 
 
 Or by evasions thy crime uncover'st more. 
 
 Dal. Since thou determin'st weakness for no plea 
 In man or woman, though to thy own condemning, 
 Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides. 
 What sieges girt me round, ere I consented ; 
 Which might have aw'd the best resolv'd of men, 
 The constantest, to have yielded without blame. 
 It was not gold, as to my charge thou lay'st. 
 That wrought with me : thou know'st the magis- 
 trates 
 A.nd princes of my country came in person, 
 Solicited, commanded, threaten'd, urged, 
 Adjur'd by all the bonds of civil duty 
 And of religion, press'd how just it was. 
 How honourable, how glorious to entrap 
 A common enemy, who had destroy'd 
 Such numbers of our nation : and the priest 
 Was not behind but ever at my ear, 
 
120 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Preaching how meritorious with the gods 
 
 It would be to ensnare an irreligious 
 
 Dishonourer of Dagon : what had I 
 
 T' oppose against such powerful arguments? 
 
 Only my love of thee held long debate, 
 
 And combated in silence all these reasons 
 
 With hard contest : at length that grounded maxim 
 
 So rife and celebrated in the mouths 
 
 Of wisest men, that to the public good 
 
 Private respects must yield, with grave authority 
 
 Took full possesion of me and prevail'd ; 
 
 Virtue, as I thought, truth, duty so enjoining. 
 
 Sams. I thought where all thy circling wiles would 
 end ; 
 In feign'd religion, smooth hypocrisy. 
 But had thy love, still odiously pretended. 
 Been as it ought, sincere, it would have taught thee 
 Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds. 
 I, before all the daughters of my tribe 
 And of my nation, chose thee from among 
 My enemies, lov'd thee, as too well (fhou knew'st, 
 Too well, unbosom'd all my secrets to thee, 
 Not out of levity, but over-power'd 
 By thy request, who could deny thee nothing ; 
 Yet now am judg'd an enemy. Why then 
 Oidst thou at first receive me for thy husband, 
 Then, as since then, thy country's foe profess'd? 
 Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave 
 Parents and country ; nor was I their subject, 
 Nor under their protection but my own, 
 Thou mine, not theirs : if aught against my life 
 Thy country sought of thee, it sought unjustly, 
 Against the law of nature, law of nations ; 
 No more thy country but an impious crew 
 Of men conspiring to uphold their state 
 By worse than hostile deeds, violating the ends 
 For which our country is a name so dear ; 
 Not therefore to be obey'd. But zeal mov'd thee; 
 To please thy gods thou didst it ; gods unable 
 
SAMSON AGONISTJLS. 121 
 
 T' acquit themselves and prosecute their foes 
 
 But by ungodly deeds ; the contradiction 
 
 Of their own deity, gods cannot be ; 
 
 Less therefore to be pleased, obey'd, or fear'd. 
 
 These false pretexts and varnish'd colours failing, 
 
 Bare in thy guilt how foul must thou appear ? 
 
 Dal. In argument with men a woman ever 
 Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause. 
 
 Sams. For want of words no doubt, or lack of 
 breath ; 
 Witness when I was worried with thy peals. 
 
 Dal. I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken 
 In what I thought would have succeeded best. 
 Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson, 
 Afford me place to show what recompense 
 Tow'rds thee I intend for what I have misdone, 
 Misguided ; only what remains past cure 
 Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist 
 To afflict thyself in vain : though sight be lost, 
 Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy 'd, 
 Where other senses want not their delights, 
 At home, in leisure and domestic ease. 
 Exempt from many a care and chance to which 
 Eye-sight exposes daily men abroad. 
 I to the lords wiJl intercede, not doubting 
 Their favourable ear, that I may fetch thee 
 From forth this loathsome prison-house, to abide 
 With me, where my redoubled love and care 
 With nursing diligence, to me glad office, 
 May ever tend about thee to old age 
 With all things grateful cheer'd, and so supplied, 
 That what by me thou hast lost thou least shal 
 miss. 
 
 Sams. No, no, of my condition take no care ; 
 It fits not ; thou and I long since are twain ; 
 Nor think me so unwary or accurs'd. 
 To bring my feet again into the snare 
 Where once I have been caught ; I know thy trains 
 Though dearly to my cost, thy gins, and toils j 
 1^ 
 
122 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Thy fair enchanted cup, and warbling charms 
 
 No more on me have power, their force is null'd, 
 
 So much of adder's wisdom I have learn'd 
 
 To fence my ear against thy sorceries. 
 
 If in my flower of youth and strength, when all men 
 
 Lov'd, honour'd, fear'd me, thou alone could&t hate me 
 
 Thy husband, slight me, sell me, and forego me ; 
 
 How wouldst thou use me now, blind, and thereby 
 
 Deceivable, in most things as a child 
 
 Helpless, thence easily contemn'd, and scorn'd, 
 
 And last neglected ? How w^ouldst thou insult, 
 
 When I must live uxorious to thy will 
 
 In perfect thraldom, how again betray me, 
 
 Bearing my words and doings to the lords 
 
 To gloss upon, and censuring, frown or smile ? 
 
 This jail I count the house of liberty 
 
 To thine, whose doors my feet shall never enter. 
 
 Dal. Let me approach at least, and touch thy 
 hand. 
 
 Sams. Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance 
 wake 
 My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint. 
 At distance I forgive thee, go with that ; 
 Bew^ail thy falsehood, and the pious works 
 It hath brought forth to make thee memorable 
 Among illustrious women, faithful wives : 
 Cherish thy hasten'd widowhood with the gold 
 Of matrimonial treason : so farewell. 
 
 Dal. I see thou art implacable, more deaf 
 To prayers, than winds and seas, yet winds to seas 
 Are reconcil'd at length, and sea to shore ; 
 Thy anger, unappeasible, still rages, 
 Eternal tempest never to be calm'd. 
 "Why do I humble thus myself, and suing 
 For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate ? 
 Bid go with evil omen and the brand 
 Of infamy upon my name denounc'd ? 
 To mix with thy concernments I desist 
 Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 123 
 
 Fame, if not double fac'd is double moutn'd, 
 
 And with contrarjr blast proclaims most deeds ; 
 
 On both his wings, one black, the other white, 
 
 Bears greatest names in his wild airy flight. 
 
 My name perhaps among the circumcis'd 
 
 In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering tribe?. 
 
 To all posterity may stand defam'd, 
 
 With malediction mention'd, and the blot 
 
 Of falsehood most unconjugal traduc'd. 
 
 But in my country, where I most desire, 
 
 In Ecron, Gaza, Asdod, and in Gath, 
 
 I shall be nam'd among the famousest 
 
 Of women, sung at solemn festivals, 
 
 Living and dead recorded, who to save 
 
 Her country from a fierce destroyer, chose 
 
 Above the faith of wedlock-bands, my tomb 
 
 With odours visited, and annual flowers ; 
 
 Not less renown'd than in mount Ephraim 
 
 Jael, who with inhospitable guile 
 
 Smote Sisera sleeping, through the temples nail'd. 
 
 Nor shall I count it heinous to enjoy 
 
 The public marks of honour and reward 
 
 Conferr'd upon me, for the piety 
 
 Which to my country I was judg'd to have shown. 
 
 At this who ever envies or repines, 
 
 I leave him to his lot, and like my own. 
 
 Chor. She's gone, a manifest serpent by her sting 
 Discover'd in the end, till now conceal'd. 
 
 Sams. So let her go, God sent her to debase me, 
 And aggravate my folly, who committed 
 To such a viper his most sacred trust 
 Of secresy, my safety and my life. 
 
 Chor. Yet beauty, though injurious, hath stramre 
 power. 
 After offence returning, to regain 
 Love once possess'd, nor can be easily 
 Repuls'd without much inward passion felt 
 And secret sting of amorous remorse. 
 
124 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Sams. LoTc quarrels oft in pleasing concord end, 
 Not wedlock-treach'ry endangering life. 
 
 Chor, It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, 
 Strength, comliness of shape, or amplest merit 
 That woman's love can win or long inherit ; 
 But what it is, hard is to say, 
 
 arder to hit, 
 (Which way soever men refer it,) 
 Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day, 
 Or seven, though one should musing sit. 
 
 If any of these or all, the Timnian bride 
 Had not so soon preferr'd 
 Thy paranymph, worthless to thee compared 
 Successor in thy bed, 
 ^or but so loosely disallied 
 Their nuptials, not this last so treacherously 
 Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head. 
 Is it for that such outward ornament 
 Was lavish'd on their sex, that inward gifts 
 Were left for haste Unfinish'd, judgment scant, 
 Capacity not rais'd to apprehend 
 Or value what is best 
 In choice, but oftesf to affect the wrong ? 
 Or was too much of self-love mix'd. 
 Of constancy no root infix'd. 
 That either they love nothing, or not long ? 
 
 What'er it be to wisest men and best. 
 Seeming at first all heavenly under virgin veil, 
 Soft, modest, meek, demure. 
 Once join'd, the contrary she proves, a thorn 
 Intestine, far within defensive arms 
 4. cleaving mischief, in his way to virtue 
 A-dverse and turbulent, or by her charms 
 Draws him awry enslav'd 
 With dotage, and his sense deprav'd 
 To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends. 
 What pilot so expert but needs must wreck 
 Embark'd with such a steersmate at the helm ? 
 
 Favoured of heaven who finds 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 125 
 
 One virtuous rarely found, 
 
 That in domestic good combines : 
 
 Happy that house ! his way to peace is smooth. 
 
 But virtue which breaks through all opposition, 
 
 And all temptation can remove. 
 
 Most shines and most is acceptable above. 
 
 Therefore God's universal law 
 Gave to the man despotic power 
 Over his female in due awe, 
 Not from that right to part an hour. 
 Smile she or lour : 
 So shall he least confusion draw 
 On his whole life, not sway'd 
 By female usurpation, or dismay'd. 
 But had we best retire, I see a storm ? 
 
 Sams. Fair days have oft contracted ^vind and rain. 
 
 Chor. But tliis another kind of tempest brings. 
 
 Sams. Be less abstruse, my riddling days are past. 
 
 Chor. Look now for no enchanting voice, nor fear 
 The bait of honied w^ords ; a rougher tongue 
 Draws hitherwards, I know him by his stride, 
 The giant Harapha of Gath, his look 
 Haughty as is his pile high-built and proud. 
 Comes he in peace ? what wind hath blown him 
 
 hither 
 I less conjecture than when first I saw 
 The sumptuous Dalila floating this way : 
 His habit carries peace, his brow defiance. 
 
 Sams. Or peace or not, alike to me he comes. 
 
 Chor. His fraught w^e soon shall know, he now 
 arrives. 
 
 Har. I come not, Samson, to condole thy chance, 
 A.S these perhaps, yet wish it had not been, 
 Though for no friendly intent. I am of Gath : 
 Men call me Harapha, of stock renown'd 
 As Og or Anak and the Emims old 
 That Kiriathaim held, thou know'st me now 
 If thou at all art known. Much I have heard 
 Of thy prodigious might and feats perform'd 
 L* 
 
126 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Incredible to me, in this displeas'd 
 
 That I was never present on the place 
 
 Of those encounters, where we might have tried 
 
 Each other's force in camp or listed field : 
 
 And now am come to see of whom such noise 
 
 Hath walk'd about, and each limb to survey, 
 
 If thy appearance answer loud report. 
 
 Sams. The way to know were not to see but laste. 
 
 Har. Dost thou already single me ? I thought 
 Gyves and the mill had tam'd thee. O that fortune 
 Had brought me to the field, where thou art fam'd 
 To have wrought such wonders with an ass' jaw; 
 I should have forc'd thee soon wish other arms, 
 Or left thy carcass where the ass lay thrown : 
 So had the glory of prowess been recover'd 
 To Palestine, won by a Philistine 
 From the unforeskin'd race, of whom thou bear'st 
 The highest name for valiant acts ; that honour 
 Certain to have won by mortal duel from thee, 
 I lose, prevented by thy eyes put out. 
 
 Sams. Boast not of what thou would'st have done, 
 but do 
 What then thou wouldst, thou seest it in thy hand. 
 
 Har. To combat with a blind man I disdain, 
 And thou hast need much washing to be touch'd. 
 
 Sams. Such usage as your honourable lords 
 AfTord me, assassinated and betray'd. 
 Who durst not with their whole united powers 
 In fight withstand me single and unarm'd, 
 Nor in the house with chamber ambushes 
 Close-banded durst attack me, no not sleeping, 
 Till they had hir'd a woman with their gold, 
 Breaking her marriage faith to circumvent me. 
 Therefore without feign'd shifts let be assign'd 
 Some narrow place enclos'd where sight may give 
 
 thee. 
 Or rather flight, no great advantage on me ; 
 Then put on all thy gorgeous arms, thy helmet 
 And brigandine of brass, thy broad habergeon. 
 
5^ 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 127 
 
 Vant-brass and greaves, and guantlet, add thy spear, 
 A weaver's beam, and seven-times-folded shield, 
 I only with an oaken staff will meet thee 
 And raise such outcries on thy clatter'd iron, 
 Which long shall not withhold me from thy head. 
 That in a little time while breath remains thee, 
 Thou oft shalt wish thyself at Gath to boast 
 Again in safety what thou wouldst have done 
 To Samson, but shah never see Gath more. 
 
 Har. Thou durst not thus disparage glorious arms. 
 Which greatest heroes have in battle worn, 
 Their ornament and safety, had not spells 
 And black enchantments, some magician's art 
 Armed thee, or charmed thee strong which thou from 
 
 heaven 
 Feign'dst at thy birth was given thee in thy hair, 
 Where strength can least abide, though all thy hairs 
 Were bristles, rang'd like those that ridge the back 
 Of chaf 'd wild boars, or ruffled porcupines. 
 
 Sams. I know no spells, use no forbidden arts ; 
 My trust is in the living God, Vv^ho gave me 
 At my nativity this strength, diffus'd 
 No less through all my sinews, joints and bones. 
 Than thine, while I preserv'd these locks unshorn, 
 The pledge of my unviolated vow. 
 For proof hereof, if Dagon be thy god, 
 Go^ to his temple, invocate his aid " 
 With splemnest devotion, spread before him 
 How highly it concerns his glory now 
 To frustrate and dissolve these magic spells. 
 Which I to be the power of Israel's God 
 A. vow, and challenge Dagon to the test, 
 Offering to combat thee his champion bold 
 With th' utmost of his godhead seconded : 
 Then thou shalt see, or rather to thy sorrow 
 Soon feel, whose God is strongest, thine or mine. 
 Har. Presume not on thy God, whate'er he be. 
 Thee he regards not, owns not, hath cut off 
 Quite from his people, and deliver'd up 
 
128 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Into thy enemies' hand, permitted them 
 To put out both thine eyes, and fetter'd send the^ 
 Into the common prison, there to grind 
 Among the slaves and asses, thy comrades, 
 As good for nothing else, no better service 
 With those thy boist'rous locks, no worthy match 
 For valour to assail, nor by the sword 
 Of noble warrior, so to stain his honour, 
 But by the barber's razor best subdued. 
 
 Sams. All these indignities, for such they are 
 From thine, these evils I deserve and more, 
 Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me 
 Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon. 
 Whose ear is ever open, and his eye 
 Gracious to re-admit the suppliant ; 
 In confidence whereof I once again 
 Defy thee to the trial of mortal fight. 
 By combat to decide whose god is God, 
 Thine, or whom I with Israel's sons adore. 
 
 Har. Fair honour that thou dost thy God, in trusting 
 He will accept thee to defend his cause, 
 A murderer, a revolter, and a robber. 
 
 Sa?ns. Tongue-doughty Giant how dost thou prove 
 
 me these ? 
 Har. Is not thy nation subject to our lords ? 
 Their magistrates confess'd it, when they took thee 
 As a league-breaker, and deliver'd bound 
 Into our hands : for hadst thou not committed 
 Notorious murder on those thirty men 
 At Ascalon, who never did thee harm, 
 Then like a robber stripp'dst them of their robes ? 
 The Philistines, Avhen thou had'st broke the league, 
 Went up with armed powers thee only seeking. 
 To others did no violence nor spoil. 
 
 Sams. Among the datighters of the Philistines 
 I chose a wife, which argued me no foe ; 
 And in your city held my nuptial feast : 
 But your ill-meaning politician lords. 
 Under pretence of bridal friends and giiests, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 129 
 
 Appointed to await me thirty spies, 
 
 Who threat'ning cruel death constrain'd the bride 
 
 To wring from me and tell to them my secret, 
 
 That solv'd the riddle which I had propos'd 
 
 When I perceiv'd all set on enmity, 
 
 As on my enemies, wherever chanc'd 
 
 I us'd hostility, and took their spoil 
 
 To pay my underminers in their coin. 
 
 My nation was subjected to your lords. 
 
 It was the force of conquest ; force with force 
 
 Is well ejected, when the conquer'd can. 
 
 But I a private person, whom my country, 
 
 As a league-breaker, gave up bound, presum'd 
 
 Single rebellion and did hostile acts ; 
 
 I was no private but a person rais'd 
 
 With strength sufficient and command from Heav'n 
 
 To free my country ; if their servile minds 
 
 Me their deliverer sent would not receive, 
 
 But to their masters gave me up for naught, 
 
 Th' unworthier they ', whence to this day they serve* 
 
 I was to do my part from heaven assign'd. 
 
 And had perform'd it if my known offence 
 
 Had not disabled me, not all your force : 
 
 These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant 
 
 Though by his blindness maim'd for high attempts 
 
 Who now defies thee thrice to single fight. 
 
 As a petty enterprize of small enforce. 
 
 Har. With thee a man condemn'd, a slave enroll'd, 
 Due by the law to capital punishment ? 
 To fight with thee no man of arms will deign. 
 
 Sams. Cam'st thou for this, vain boaster to sur 
 vey me, 
 To descant on my strength, and give thy verdict ? 
 Come nearer, part not hence so slight inform'd; 
 But take good heed my hand survey not thee. 
 
 Har. O Baal-zebub I can my ears unus'd 
 Hear these dishonours, and not render death ? 
 
 Sams. No man withholds thee, nothing from thy 
 hand 
 
130 SAMSON AGONISTES, 
 
 Fear I incurable ; bring up thy van, 
 My heels are fetter'd, but my fist is free. 
 
 Har. This insolence other kind of answer fits 
 Sams. Go, baffled coward, lest I run upon thee, 
 Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast, 
 4nd with one buffet lay thy structure low, 
 !)r swing thee in the air, then dash thee down 
 To the hazard of thy brains and shatter'd sides. 
 Har. By Astaroth ere long thou shalt lament 
 These braveries in irons loaden on thee. 
 
 Chor. His giantship is gone somewhat crest-fallen, 
 Stalking with less unconscionable strides, 
 And lower looks, but in a sultry chafe. 
 
 Sam. I dread him not, nor all his giant-brood 
 Though fame divulge him Father of five sons, 
 All of gigantic size, Goliah chief. 
 
 Chor. He will directly to the lords, I fear. 
 And with malicious counsel stir them up 
 Some way or other yet further to afflict thee. 
 
 Sams. He must allege some cause, and offer 'd fight 
 Will not dare mention, lest a question rise 
 Whether he durst accept the offer or not. 
 And that he durst not plain enough appear'd, 
 Much more affliction than already felt 
 They cannot well impose, nor I sustain, 
 If they intend advantage of my labours, 
 The work of many hands which earns my keeping 
 With no small profit daily to my owners. 
 But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove 
 My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence. 
 The worst that he can give, to me the best. 
 Yet so it may fall out, because their end 
 s, hate, not help to me, it may with mine 
 Draw their own ruin who attempt the deed. 
 
 Chor. O how comely it is, and how reviving 
 For the spirits of just men long oppress'd. 
 When God into the hands of their deliverer 
 Puts invincible might 
 To quell the mighty of the earth, th' oppressor, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 131 
 
 The brute and boist'rous force of violent men 
 
 Hardy and industrious to support 
 
 Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue 
 
 The righteous, and all such as honour truth ; 
 
 He all their ammunition 
 
 And feats of war defeats 
 
 With plain heroic magnitude of mind, 
 
 And celestial vigour arm'd, 
 
 Their armouries and magazines contemns. 
 
 Renders them useless, while 
 
 With winged expedition 
 
 Swift as the lightning glance he executes 
 
 His errand on the wicked, who surpris'd 
 
 Lose their defence distracted and amazed. 
 
 But patience is more oft the exercise 
 Of saints, the trial of their fortitude. 
 Making them each his own deliverer, 
 And victor over all 
 That tyranny or fortune can inflict, 
 Either of these is in thy lot 
 Samson, with might indued 
 Above the sons of men ; but sight bereav'd 
 May chance to number thee with those 
 Whom patience finally must crown. 
 
 This idol's day hath been to thee no day of rest, 
 Labouring thy mind 
 More than the working day thy hands. 
 And yet perhaps more trouble is behind. 
 For I descry this way 
 Some other tending, in his hand 
 A sceptre or quaint staff he bears, 
 •Comes on amain, speed in his look. 
 By his habit I discern him now 
 A public officer, and now at hand. 
 His message will be short and voluble. 
 
 Off. Hebrews, the prisoner Samson here I seek. 
 
 Chor. His manacles remark him, there he sits. 
 
 Off. Samson, to thee our lords thus bid me say : 
 This day to Dagon is a solemn feast, 
 
132 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 With sacrifices, triumph, pomp, and games ; 
 Thy strength they know surpassing human rate, 
 And now some public proof thereof require 
 To honour this great feast, and great assembly ; 
 Rise therefore, with all speed and come along, 
 Where I will see thee hearten'd and fresh clad 
 To appear as fits before th' illustrious lords. 
 
 Sams, Thou know'st I am an Hebrew, therefore tel 
 them, 
 Our law forbids at their religious rites 
 My presence ; for that cause I cannot come. 
 
 Off. This answer, be assur'd, will not content them. 
 
 Sams. Have they not sword-players, and every sort 
 Of gymnic artists, wrestlers, riders, runners. 
 Jugglers and dancers, antics, mummers, mimics, 
 But they must pick me out with shackles tir'd, 
 And over-labour'd at their public mill. 
 To make them sport with blind activity ? 
 Do they not seek occasion of new quarrels 
 On my refusal to distress me more. 
 Or make a game of my calamities ? 
 Return the way thou cam'st, I will not come. 
 
 Off. Regard thyself, this will ofiend them highly, 
 
 Sams. Myself ! my conscience and internal peace. 
 Can they think me so broken, so debas'd 
 With corporal servitude, that my mind ever 
 Will condescend to such absurd commands ? 
 Although their drudge, to be their fool or jester, 
 And in my midst of sorrow and heart grief 
 To show them feats, and play before their god. 
 The worst of all indignities, yet on me 
 Join'd with extreme contempt ? I will not come. 
 
 Off. My message was impos'd on me with speed, 
 Brooks no delay : is this thy resolution ? 
 
 Sams. So take it Avith what speed thy message 
 needs. 
 
 Off. I am sorry what this stoutness will produce. 
 
 Sams. Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow 
 indeed. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 133 
 
 Chor. Consider, Samson ; matters now are strain 'd 
 Up to the height, whether to hold or break ; 
 He's gone, and who knows how he may report 
 Tliy words by adding fuel to the flame ? 
 Expect another message more imperious, 
 More loudly thund'ring than thou well wilt bear 
 
 Sams. Shall I abuse this consecrated gift 
 Of strength, again returning with my hair 
 After my great transgression, so requite 
 Favour renew'd, and add a greater sin 
 By prostituting holy things to idols ; 
 A Nazarite in place abominable. 
 Vaunting my strength in honour to their Dagon ? 
 Besides how vile, contemptible, ridiculous. 
 What act more execrably unclean, profane ? 
 
 Chor. Yet with this strength thou serv'st the Phi- 
 listines, 
 Idolatrous, uncircumcis'd, unclean. 
 
 Sams. Not in their idol-worship, but by labour 
 Honest and lawful to deserve my food 
 Of those who have me in their civil power. 
 
 Chor. Where the heart joins not, outward acts 
 defile not. 
 
 Sam^. Where outward force constrains, the sen- 
 tence holds. 
 But who constrains me to the temple of Dagon, 
 Not dragging ? the Philistian lords command. 
 Commands are no constraints. If I obey them, 
 I do it freely, vent'ring to displease 
 God for the fear of man, and man prefer, 
 Set God behind : which in his jealousy 
 Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness. 
 Fet that he may dispense with me or thee 
 Present in temples at idolatrous rites 
 For some important cause, thou need'st not doubt. 
 
 Chor. How thou wilt here come off surmounts my 
 reach. % 
 
 Sams. Be of good courage, I begin to feel 
 Some rousing motions in me which dispose 
 M 
 
134 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 To something extraordinary my thoughts. 
 I with this messenger will go along, 
 Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonour 
 Our law, or stain my vow of Nazarite, 
 If there be aught of presage in the mind, 
 This day will be remarkable in my life 
 By some great act, or of my days the last. 
 
 Chor. In time thou hast resolv'd, the man returns. 
 
 Off. Samson, this second message from our lords 
 To thee I am bid say : Art thou our slave^ 
 Our captive, at the public mill our drudge, 
 And dar'st thou at our sending and command 
 Dispute thy coming ? come without delay ; 
 Or we shall find such engines ta assail 
 And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force, 
 Though thou wert firmlier fasten'd than a rock. 
 
 Sams. I could be well content to try their art, 
 Which to no few of them would prove pernicious. 
 Yet knowing their advantages too many. 
 Because they shall not trail me through their streets 
 Like a wild beast, I am content to go, 
 Masters' commands come with a power resistless 
 To such as owe them absolute subjection ; 
 And for a life Avho will not change his purpose ^ 
 (So mutable are all the ways of men,) 
 Yet this be sure, in nothing to comply 
 Scandalous or forbidden in our law. 
 
 Off. 1 praise thy resolution: doff these links 
 By this compliance thou wilt win the lords 
 To favour, and perhaps to set thee free.. 
 
 Sams. Brethren, farewell ; your company along 
 I will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them 
 To see me girt with friends ; and how the sight 
 Of me as of a common enemy, 
 So dreaded once, may now exasperate them 
 I know not : lords are lordliest in their wine ; 
 And the wjjl-feasted priest then soonest fir'd 
 With zeal, if aught religion seem concern'd ; 
 No less the people on their holy-days 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 135 
 
 Impetuous, insolent, unquenchable : 
 Happen what may, of me expect to hear 
 Nothing dishonourable, impure, unworthy 
 Our God, our law, my nation, or myself, 
 The last of me or no I cannot warrant. 
 
 Chor. Go, and the Holy One 
 Of Israel be thy guide 
 To what may serve his glory best, and spread hi 
 
 name 
 Great among the heathen round ; 
 Send thee the angel of thy birth to stand 
 Fast by thy side, who from thy father's field, 
 Rode up in flames after this message told 
 Of thy conception, and be now a shield 
 Of fire \ that Spirit that first rushed on thee 
 In the camp of Dan 
 Be efficacious in thee now at need ; 
 For never was from heaven imparted 
 Measure of strength so great to mortal seed, 
 As in thy wondrous actions hath been seen. 
 But wherefore comes old Manoah in such haste 
 With youthful steps ? much livelier than erewhile 
 He seems ; supposing here to find his son. 
 Or of him bringing to us some glad news ? 
 
 Man. Peace with you, brethren; my induce- 
 ment hither 
 Was not at present here to find my son. 
 By order of the lords new parted hence 
 To come and play before them at their feast. 
 I heard all as I came, the city rings. 
 And numbers thither flock, I had no will, 
 Lest I should see him forc'd to things unseemly. 
 But that which mov'd my coming now, was chiefly 
 To give ye part with me what hope I have 
 With good success to work his liberty. 
 
 Chor, That hope would much rejoice us to partake 
 With thee ; say, reverend Sire, we thirst to hear. 
 
 Man. I have attempted one by one the lords 
 Either at home, ^i- through the high street passing, 
 
136 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Witli supplication prone and father's tears, 
 To accept of ransom for my son their pris'ner. 
 Some much averse I found and wondrous harsh, 
 Contemptuous proud, set on revenge and spite ; 
 That part most reverenc'd Dagon and his priests : 
 Others more moderate seeming, but their aim 
 Private reward, for which both God and state 
 They easily would set to sail ; a third 
 More generous far and civil, who confess'd 
 They had enough reveng'd, having reduc'd 
 Their foe to misery beneath their fears, 
 The rest was magnanimity to remit, 
 If some convenient ransom were prepos'd. 
 What noise or shout was that ? it tore the sky. 
 
 Chor. Doubtless the people shouting to behold 
 Their once great dread, captive, and blind before them, 
 Or at some proof of strength before them shown, 
 
 Man. His ransom, if my whole inheritance 
 May compass it, shall willingly be paid 
 And number'd down : much rather I shall choose 
 To live the poorest in my tribe, than richest, 
 And he in that calamitous prison left. 
 No, I am fix'd not to part hence without him. 
 For his redemption all my patrimony 
 If need be, I am ready to forego 
 And quit : not wanting him, I shall want nothing. 
 
 Chor. Fathers are v/ont to lay up for their sons. 
 Thou for thy son art bent to lay out all ; 
 Sons wont to nurse their parents in old age, 
 Thou in old age car'st how to nurse thy son 
 Made older than thy age through eye-sight lost. 
 
 Man. It shall be my delight to tend his eyes, 
 And view him sitting in the house, ennobled 
 With all those high exploits by him achiev'd, 
 And on his shoulders waving down those locks. 
 That of a nation arm'd the strength contain'd : 
 And I persuade me God had not permitted 
 His strength again to grow up with his hair 
 Garrison 'd round about him like a camp 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 137 
 
 Of faithfbl soldiery were not his purpose 
 
 To use him further yet in some great service, 
 
 Not to sit idle with so great a gift 
 
 Useless, and thence ridiculous about him. 
 
 And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost. 
 
 God will restore his eye-sight to his strength. 
 
 Chor. Thy hopes are not ill-founded, nor seem vain 
 Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon 
 Conceiv'd agreeable to a father's love, 
 In both, which we, as next, participate. 
 
 Man. I know your friendly minds and — -O what 
 noise ? 
 Mercy of heaven, what hideous noise was that ? 
 Horribly loud, unlike the former shout. 
 
 Chor. Noise call you it or universal groan, 
 As if the whole inhabitation perish'd ! 
 Blood, death, and deathful deeds are in that noise, 
 Ruin, destruction at the utmost point. 
 
 Man. Of ruin indeed, methought I heatd the noise 
 Oh it continues, they have slain my son. 
 
 Chor. Thy son is rather slaying them, that outcry 
 From slaughter of one foe could not ascend. 
 
 Man. Some dismal accident it needs must be ; 
 What shall we do, stay here or run and see ? 
 
 Chor. Best keep together here, lest running thither 
 We unawares run into danger's mouth. 
 This evil on the Philistines is fallen ; 
 From whom could else a general cry be heard ? 
 The sufferers then will scarce molest us here, 
 From other hands we need not much to fear. 
 What if his eye-sight (for to Israel's God 
 Nothing is hard) by miracle reslor'd, 
 He now be dealing dole among his foes, 
 And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way ? 
 
 Man. That were a joy presumptions to be thought. 
 
 Chor. Yet God hath wrought things as incredible 
 For his people of old; what hinders now ? 
 
 Man. He can I know, but doubt to think he will • 
 
 1 
 
138 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief. 
 A little stay will bring some notice hither. 
 
 Chor. Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner 
 For evil news rides post, while good news baits. 
 And to our wish I see one hither speeding, 
 An Hebrew, as I guess, and of our tribe. 
 
 Mess. O whither shall I run, or which way tiy 
 The sight of this so horrid spectacle, 
 Which erst my eyes beheld and yet behold ? 
 For dire imagination still pursues me. 
 But providence or instinct of nature seems, 
 Or reason though disturb'd, and scarce consulted. 
 To have guided me aright, I know not how, 
 To thee first reverend Manoah, and to these 
 My countrymen, whom here I knew remaining, 
 As at some distance from the place of horror. 
 So in the sad event too much concern'd. 
 
 Man. The accident was loud, and here before thee 
 With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not : 
 No preface needs, thou seest we long to know. 
 
 Mess. It would burst forth, but I recover breath 
 And sense distract, to know well what I utter. 
 
 Man. Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer. 
 
 Mess. Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are fallen, 
 All in a moment overwhelm'd and fallen. 
 
 Man. Sad, but thou know'st to Israelites not 
 saddest 
 The desolation of a hostile city. 
 
 Mess. Feed on that first, there may in grief bo 
 surfeit. 
 
 Man. Relate by whom. 
 
 Mess. By Samson. 
 
 Man. That still lessens 
 The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy. 
 
 Mess. Ah Monoah, I refrain too suddenly 
 To utter what will come at last too soon ; 
 Lest evil tidings with too rude irruption 
 Hitting thy aged ear should pierce too deep. 
 
 Ma7i. Sus;iense in news is torture, speak them out. 
 
ftlSDN AGONISTES. 
 
 139 
 
 Mess, Take then the worst in brief, Samson is 
 dead. 
 
 Man, The worst indeed, O all my hope's defeated 
 To free him hence ! but death who sets all free 
 Hath paid his ransom now and full discharge. 
 What windy joy this day had I conceiv'd 
 Hopeful of his delivery, which now proves 
 Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring 
 NippM with the lagging rear of winter's frost ! 
 Vet €re I give the reins to grief, say first, 
 How died he ; death to life is crown or shame. 
 All by him fell thou say'st, by whom fell he, 
 What glorious hand gave Samson his death wound ? 
 
 Mess. Unwounded of his enemies he fell. 
 
 Man, Wearied with slaughter then or how ? ex- 
 plain. 
 
 Mess. By his own hands. 
 
 Man, Self-violence ! what cause 
 Brought him so soon at variance with himself 
 Among his foes ? 
 
 Mess. Inevitable cause 
 At once both to destroy and be destroy 'd ; 
 The edifice, where all were met to see him, 
 Upon their heads and on his own he pull'd. 
 
 Ma7u O lastly over-strong against thyself I 
 A dreadul way thou took'st to thy revenge. 
 More than enough we know ; but while things yet 
 Are in confusion, give us if thou canst. 
 Eye-witness of what first or last was done, 
 Relation more particular and distinct. 
 
 Mess. Occsaions drew me early to this city, 
 And as the gates I enter'd with sun-rise, 
 The morning trumpets' festival proclaim'd 
 Through each high street : little I had despatch'd, 
 When all abroad was rumour'd that this day 
 Samson should be brought forth, to show the peopi< 
 Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games ; 
 I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded 
 Not to be absent at that spectacle. 
 
140 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 The building was a spacious theatre 
 
 Half-round on two main pillars vaulted high, 
 
 With seats where all the lords and each degree 
 
 Of sort, might sit in order to behold ; 
 
 The other side was open, where the throng 
 
 On banks and scaffolds under sky might stand ; 
 
 1 among these aloof obscurely stood. 
 
 The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice 
 
 Had fill'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer, 
 
 wine, 
 When to their ispdrts they turn'd. Immediately 
 Was Samson as a public servant brought, 
 In their state livery clad ; before him pipes 
 And timbrels, on each side went armed guards, 
 Both horse and foot, before him and behind 
 Archers, and slingers, cataphracts and spears. 
 At sight of him the people with a shout 
 Rifted the air, clamouring their god with praise, 
 Who had made their dreadful enemy their thrah 
 He patient but undaunted where they led him, 
 Came to the place, and what was set before him 
 Which witliout help of eye might be assay'd 
 To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd 
 All with incredible, stupendous force : 
 None daring to appear antagonist. 
 At length for intermission sake they led him 
 Between the pillars ; he his guide repuested 
 (For so from such as nearer stood we heard) 
 As over-tir'd to let him lean a while 
 With both his arms on those two massy pillars, 
 That to the arched roof gave main support. 
 He unsuspicious led him ; which when Samson 
 Felt in his arms, with head a while inclin'd, 
 And eyes fast fix'd he st':^od, as one who pray'd, 
 Or some great matter in his mind revolv'd : 
 At last with head erect thus cried aloud. 
 Hitherto, lords, what your commands impos'd 
 I have perform'd, as reason was, obeying, 
 Not without wonder or delisfht beheld : 
 
SAMSON A60NISTES. 141 
 
 Now of my own accord such other trial 
 
 I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater ; 
 
 As with amaze shall strike all who behold. 
 
 This utter 'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd, 
 
 As with the force of winds and waters pent, 
 
 When mountains tremble, those two massy pillars 
 
 With horrible convulsion to and fro, 
 
 He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew 
 
 The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder 
 
 Upon the heads of all who sat beneath, 
 
 Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, 
 
 Their choice nobility and flower, not only 
 
 Of this but each Philistian city round, 
 
 Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. 
 
 Samson with these inmix'd, inevitably 
 
 Puird down th« same destruction on himself; 
 
 The vulgar only scap'd who stood without. 
 
 Chor. O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious ! 
 Living or dying thou hast fulfiU'd 
 The work for which thou wast foretold 
 To Israel, and now liest victorious 
 Among thy slain self-kill 'd, 
 Not willingly, but tangled in the fold 
 Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoined 
 Thee with thy slaughter'd foes in number more 
 Than all thy life had slain before. 
 
 Semichor. While their hearts were jocund and 
 sublime, 
 Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, 
 A.nd fat regorg'd of bulls and goats, 
 Chaunting their idol, and preferring 
 Before our living Dread who dwelk 
 n Silo his bright sanctuary : 
 Among them He a spirit of phrensy sent 
 Who hurt their minds 
 And urg'd them on with mad desire 
 To call in heiste for their destroyer ; 
 They only set on sport and play 
 Dnweetingly importun'd 
 
142 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Their own destruction to come speedy upon them. 
 
 So fond are mortal men 
 
 Fallen into wrath divine 
 
 As their o\Aai ruin on themselves to invite, 
 
 insensate left, or to senso reprobate, 
 
 A.nd with blindness internal struck. 
 
 Semichor. But he though blind of siglit, 
 Despis'd and thought extinguish'd quite, 
 With inward eyes illuminated, 
 His fiery virtue rous'd 
 From under ashes into sudden flame^ 
 And as an evening dragon came 
 Assailant on the perched roosts, 
 And nests in order rang'd 
 Of tame villatic fowl ; but as an eagle 
 His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads. 
 So virtue given for lost, 
 Depress'd, and overthrown, as seem'd, 
 Like that self-begotten bird 
 In the Arabian woods imboss'd. 
 That no second knows nor third, 
 And lay erewhile a holocaust, 
 From out her ashy womb now teemed, 
 Revives, reflourishes, tiitn vigorous most 
 When most unactive deem'd. 
 And though her body die, her fame survives 
 A secular bird ages of lives. 
 
 Man. Come, come, no tim^e for lamentation now. 
 Nor much more cause ; Samson hath quit himself 
 Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd 
 4 life heroic, on his enemies 
 foully reveng'd, hath left them years of mourning, 
 4nd lamentations to the sons of Caphtor 
 Through all Philistian bounds ; to Israel 
 Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them 
 Find courage to lay hold on this occasion; 
 To himself and father's house eternal fame ; 
 And which is best and happiest yet, all this 
 With God not parted from him, as was fear'd> 
 
SAMSl AGOKtSTES. 143 
 
 Kut favouring and assisting to the end. 
 Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
 Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, 
 Dispraise or blame, nothing but well and fair, 
 And what may quiet us in a death so noble. 
 Let us go find the body where it lies 
 Soak'd in his enemies' blood, and from the stream 
 With lavers pure and cleansing herbs wash off 
 The clotted gore. I with what speed the while 
 (Gaza is not in plight to say us nay) 
 Will send for all my kindred, all my friends, 
 To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend 
 With silent obseo^uy and funeral train 
 Home to his father's house : there will I build him 
 A monument, and plant it round with shade 
 Of laurel ever green, and branching palm, 
 With all his trophies hung, and acts enroll'd 
 In copious legend, or sweet lyric song. 
 Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, 
 And from his memory inflame their breasts 
 To matchless valour, and adventures high : 
 The virgins also shall on feastful days 
 Visit his tomb with fi owners, only bewailing 
 His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice, 
 From whence captivity and loss of eyes, 
 Chor. All is best, though we oft doubt 
 What th' unsearchable dispose 
 Of highest wisdom brings about, 
 And ever best found in the close. 
 Oft he seems to hide his face, 
 But unexpectedly returns, 
 And to his faithful champion hath in place 
 Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns 
 \nd all that band them to resist 
 His uncontrolable intent ; 
 His servants he with new acquist 
 Of true experience from this great event 
 With peace and consolation hath dismissed, 
 And calm of mind all passion spent. 
 
 END or SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
POEMS 
 
 ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 
 
 L' ALLEGRO.* 
 
 Hence, loathed Melancholy, 
 
 Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, 
 
 In Stygian cave forlorn, 
 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights un- 
 holy ' 
 
 Find out some uncouth cell, 
 Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, 
 And the night-raven sings ; 
 There under ebon shades, and low brow'd rocks, 
 As ragged as thy locks, 
 
 In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 
 But come, thou goddess fair and free 
 In heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne, 
 And by men, heart-easing Mirth, 
 Whom lovely Venus at a birth. 
 With two sister Graces more 
 To ivy-crown'd Bacchus bore ; 
 The frolic wind that breathes the spring, 
 Or whether (as some sages sing) 
 Zephyr, with Aurora playing, 
 As he met her once a-Maying ; 
 There on beds of violets blue, 
 And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew, 
 Fill'd her with thee, a daughter fair, 
 So buxom, blithe, and debonaire, 
 
 * V AUegro is the cheerful, merry man; and in this poem ho 
 dftscribes the course of mirth in the country and in the city from 
 morning to noon, and from noon to night. 
 
146 POEMS. 
 
 Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 
 Jest and youthful Jollity, 
 Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, 
 Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, 
 Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 
 And love to live in dimple sleek ; 
 Sport that wrinkled Care derides, 
 And Laughter, holding both his sides. 
 Come, and trip it as you go^ 
 On the light fantastic toe ; 
 And in thy right hand lead with thee, 
 The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty. 
 And if I give thee honour due, 
 Mirth, admit me of thy crew, 
 "To live with her, and live with thee, 
 In unreproved pleasure free ; 
 To hear the lark begin his flight. 
 And singing startle the dull Night, 
 From his watch-tower in the skies, 
 Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; 
 Then to come in spite of Sorrow, 
 And at my window bid good-morrow, 
 Through the sweet briar, or the vine, 
 Or the twisted eglantine : 
 While the cock with lively din 
 Scatters the rear of darkness thin, 
 And to the stack, or the barn door, 
 Stoutly struts his dames before : 
 Oft list'ning how the hounds and horn 
 Cheerly rouse the slumb'ring Morn, 
 From the side of some hoar hill 
 Through the high wood echoing shrill . 
 
 ometime walking not unseen, 
 By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green. 
 Right against the eastern gate. 
 Where the great sun begins his slate, 
 Rob'd in flames, and amber light, 
 The clouds in thousand liveries dight. 
 While the ploughman near at hand 
 
POEMS, 147 
 
 Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, 
 
 And the milk-maid singeth blithe, 
 
 And the mower whets his scythe, 
 
 And every shepherd tells his tale 
 
 Under the hawthorn in the dale. 
 
 Straight mine eye hath caught new pleas-ures, 
 
 While the landscape round it measures, 
 
 Russet la "^'n?, and fallows gray, 
 
 Where t\ie nibbling flocks do stray, 
 
 Mountains on whose barren breast 
 
 The lab 'ring clouds do often rest ; 
 
 Meadows trim with daises pied, 
 
 Shallow brooks and rivers wide : 
 
 Towers and battlements it sers 
 
 Bosom'd high in tufted trees. 
 
 Where perhaps some beauty lies, 
 
 The Cynosure of neighb'ring eyes. 
 
 Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes, 
 
 From betwixt two aged oaks, 
 
 Where Corydon and Thyrsis, met, 
 
 Are at their savoury dinner set 
 
 Of herbs, and other country messes. 
 
 Which the meat-handed Phyllis dresses , 
 
 And then in haste her bower she leaves ; 
 
 With Thestylis to bind the sheaves ; 
 
 Or, if the earlier season lead, 
 
 To the tann'd haycock in the mead. 
 
 Sometimes with secure delight 
 The upland hamlets will invite. 
 When the merry bells ring round, 
 A.nd the jocund rebecs sound 
 To many a youth, and many a maid, 
 Dancing in the chequer'd shade ; 
 And young and old come forth to play 
 On a sun-shine holiday, 
 Till the live-long day-light fail ; 
 Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, 
 With stories told of many a feat, 
 How fairy Mab the junkets eat, 
 
148 PoEMfil. 
 
 She was pincli'd, and puU'd, she said, 
 And he, by friar's lantern led, 
 Tells how the drudging goblin sweat, 
 To earn his cream-bowl duly set, 
 When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, 
 His shadowy flail hath threbh'd the corn, 
 That ten day-lab'rors could not end ; 
 Then lies him down the lubbar-fiend, 
 And stretch'd out all the chimney's length, 
 Basks at the fire his hairy strength. 
 And crop-full out of doors he flings. 
 Ere the first cock his matin rings. 
 
 Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 
 By whisp'ring winds soon lull'd asleep. 
 Tower'd cities please us then ; 
 And the busy hum of men, 
 Where throngs of knights and barons bold 
 In weeds of peace high triumphs hold, 
 With store of ladies, whose bright eyes 
 JRain influence, and judge the prize 
 Of wit, or arms, while both contend 
 To win her grace, whom all commend. 
 There let Hymen oft appear 
 In saflron robe, with taper clear, 
 And pomp, and feast, and revelry. 
 With mask and antique pageantry, 
 Such sights as youthful poets dream 
 On summer eves by haunted stream. 
 Then to the well trod stage anon, 
 If Johnson's learned sock be on, 
 Or sweetest Shakepseare, Fancy's child, 
 Warble his native wood-notes wild. 
 
 And ever, against eating cares, 
 Lap me in soft Lydian airs, 
 Married to immortal verse. 
 Such as the meeting soul may pierce, 
 In notes, with many a winding bout 
 Of linked sweetness lon^ drawn out 
 With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 149 
 
 The melting voice through mazes running, 
 
 Untwisting all the chains that tie 
 
 The hidden soul of harmony ; 
 
 That Orpheus' self may heave his head 
 
 From golden slumber on a bed 
 
 Of heap'd Elysian flowers, and hear 
 
 Such strains as would have won the ear 
 
 Of Pluto, to have quite set free 
 
 His half-regain'd Eurydice. 
 
 These delights, if thou canst give, 
 Mirth, with thee I mean to live. 
 
 IL PENSEROSO* 
 
 Hence, vain deluding joys, 
 
 The brood of Folly without father bred ! 
 
 How little you bested. 
 
 Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys . 
 
 Dwell in some idol brain, 
 
 And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess 
 
 As thick and numberless 
 
 As the gay motes that people the sunbeams, 
 
 Or likest hovering dreams, 
 
 The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. 
 But hail, thou goddess, sage and holy, 
 Hail, divinest melancholy ! 
 Whose saintly visage is too bright 
 To hit the sense of human sight. 
 And, therefore, to our weaker view 
 O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue j 
 
 ♦iZ Petiseroso is the thoughtful, melancholy man; and this 
 poem, both in its model and principal circumstances, is taken froiu 
 a song in praise of melancholy in Beaumont, and Fletcher's com^ 
 dy, called The Nice VaUmr^ or PaasiontUe Madman, 
 N* 
 
150 POEMS. 
 
 Black, but such as in esteem, 
 
 Prince Memmon's sister might beseem, 
 
 Or that Starr 'd Ethiop queen that strove 
 
 To set her beauties praise above 
 
 The Sea-nymphs, and their powers offended, 
 
 Yet thou art higher far descended, 
 
 Thee bright-hair'd Vesta long of yore 
 
 To solitary Saturn bore ; 
 
 His daughter she, (in Saturn's reign, 
 
 Such mixture was not held a stain,) 
 
 Oft in glimmering bowers and glades 
 
 He met her, and in secret shades 
 
 Of woody Ida's inmost grove, 
 
 While yet there was no fear of Jove. 
 
 Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure, 
 Sober, steadfast, and demure, 
 All in a robe of darkest grain, 
 Flowing with majestic train, 
 And sable stole of Cyprus lawn. 
 Over thy decent shoulders drawn. 
 Come, but keep thy wonted state, 
 With even step, and musing gait. 
 And looks com.mercing with the skieSf 
 Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes : 
 There held in holy passion still, 
 f'orget thyself to marble, till 
 With a sad leaden downward cast. 
 Thou fix them on the earth as fast : 
 And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, 
 Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, 
 And hears the Muses in a ring 
 Aye round about Jove's altar sing. 
 And add to these retired Leisure, 
 That in trim gardens takes his pleasure : 
 But first and chiefest, with thee bring, 
 Him that yon soars on golden, wing, 
 Guiding the fiery-wheeled thron©, 
 The cherub Contemplation ; 
 And the mut© Silence hist along.. 
 
POEMS' 151 
 
 Less Philomel will deign a song, 
 In her sweetest, saddest plight, 
 Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, 
 While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, 
 Gently o'er th'accustom'd oak ; 
 Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, 
 Most musical, most melancholy ! 
 Thee, chantress, oft, the woods among, 
 I woo, to hear thy evening-song ; 
 And missing thee, I walk unseen 
 On the dry smooth-shaven green, 
 To behold the wand'ring moon. 
 Riding near her highest noon. 
 Like one that had been led astray 
 Through the heaven's wide pathless way, 
 And oft, as if her head she bow'd, 
 Stooping through a fleecy cloud. 
 Oft on a plat of rising ground, 
 I hear the far-off curfew sound. 
 Over some wide-water'd shore, 
 Swinging slow with sullen roar ; 
 Or if the air will not permit, 
 Some still removed place will fit. 
 Where glowing embers through the room 
 Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, 
 Far from all resort of mirth. 
 Save the cricket on the hearth. 
 Or the belman's drowsy charm, 
 To bless the doors from nightly harm : 
 Or let my lamp at midnight hour 
 Be seen in some high lonely tower, 
 Where I may oft outwatch the Bear, 
 With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere 
 The spirit of Plato to unfold 
 What worlds, or what vast regions hold 
 Th' immortal mind that hath forsook 
 Her mansion in this fleshly nook : 
 And of those Demons that are found 
 In fire, air, flood, or under ground, 
 
152 POEKS. 
 
 Whose power hath a true consent 
 With planet, or with element. 
 Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy 
 In scepter'd pall come sweeping by, 
 Presenting Thebes' or Pelops' line, 
 Or the tale of Troy divine, 
 Or what (though rare) of later age 
 Ennobled hath thy buskin'd stage. 
 
 But, O sad Virgin, that thy power 
 Might raise Musaeus from his bower 
 Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing 
 Such notes, as warbled to the string. 
 Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek. 
 And made hell grant what love did seek. 
 Or call up him that left half told 
 The story of Cambuscan bold, 
 Of Camball, and of Algarsife, 
 And who had Canace to wife. 
 That own'd the virtuous ring and glass, 
 And of the wond'rous horse of brass, 
 On which the Tartar king did ride ; 
 And if aught else great bards beside 
 In sage and solemn tunes have sung, 
 Of tourneys and of trophies hung. 
 Of forests, and enchantments drear, 
 Where more is meant than meets the ear. 
 
 Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career 
 Till civil-suited Morn appear, 
 Not trick'd and frounc'd as she was wont 
 With the Attic boy to hunt. 
 But kerchieft in a comely cloud. 
 While rocking winds are piping loud, 
 Or usher'd with a shower still 
 When the gust hath blown his fill, 
 Ending on the rustling leaves. 
 With minute drops from off the eaves. 
 And when the sun begins to fling 
 His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring 
 To arched walks of twilight groves, 
 
POEMS. 163 
 
 And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves. 
 
 Of pine, or monumental oak. 
 
 Where the rude axe with heaved stroke 
 
 Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, 
 
 Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt. 
 
 There in close covert by some brook, 
 
 Where no profaner eye may look, 
 
 Hide me from day's garish eye, 
 
 While the bee with honied thigh. 
 
 That at her flowery work doth sing, 
 
 And the waters murmuring. 
 
 With such concert as they keep. 
 
 Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep ; 
 
 And let some strange mysterious dream 
 
 Wave at his wings in airy stream 
 
 Of lively portraiture display'd, 
 
 Softly on my eyelids laid. 
 
 And as I wake, sweet music breathe 
 
 Above, about, or underneath. 
 
 Sent by some spirit to mortals good, 
 
 Or th' unseen genius of the wood. 
 
 But let my due feet never fail 
 To walk the studious cloisters pale, 
 And love the high embowed roof, 
 With antique pillars massy proof, 
 And storied windows richly dight. 
 Casting a dim religious light. 
 There let the pealing organ blow, 
 To the fuU-voic'd choir below. 
 In service high and anthems clear, 
 A.S may with sweetness through mine ear, 
 Dissolve me into ecstacies, 
 ^nd bring all heaven before mine eyes ! 
 
 And may at last my weary age 
 Find out the peaceful hermitage. 
 The hairy gown and mossy coif. 
 Where I may sit and rightly sperl 
 Of every star that Heaven doth show, 
 And every herb that sips the dew j 
 
154 POEMS. 
 
 Till old experience do attain 
 
 To something like prophetic strain. 
 
 These pleasures, Melancholy, give, 
 And 1 with thee will choose to live. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT, 
 DYING OF A COUGH.^ 
 
 I. 
 
 O Fairest flower no sooner blown but blasted, 
 Soft silken primrose fading timelessly, 
 Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted 
 Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry: 
 For he being amorous on that lovely dye 
 
 That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, 
 But kiU'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal bliss. 
 
 II. 
 
 For since grim Aquilo his charioteer 
 By boist'rous rape th' Athenian damsel got. 
 He thought it touch'd his deity full near, 
 If likewise he some fair one wedded not, 
 Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot 
 
 Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, 
 Which 'mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach 
 was held. 
 
 III. 
 
 So, mounting up in icy-pearled car, 
 Through middle empire of the freezing air, 
 He wander'd long, till thee he spied from far ; 
 There ended was his quest, there ceas'd his care : 
 Down he descended from his snow-soft chair, 
 
 * Composed in 1625, the 17th year of Milton's age. This in- 
 fant was the author's neice, a davighter of his sister PhiUps, and 
 
 probably her first child. 
 
roEMS. 155 
 
 But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace 
 Unhous'd thy virgin soul from her fair biding place 
 
 IV 
 
 Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate ; 
 For so Apollo, with unweeting hand, 
 Whilome did slay his dearly loved mate, 
 Young Hyacinth born on Eurotas' strand, 
 Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land ; 
 
 But then transform'd him to a purple flower : 
 Alack that so to change thee Winter had no power. 
 
 V. 
 
 Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead. 
 Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, 
 Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed. 
 Hid from the world in a low delved tomb ; 
 Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom ? 
 Oh no ! for something in thy face did shine 
 Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Resolve me then, oh Soul most surely bless'd, 
 (If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear,) 
 Tell me, bright Spirit, where'er thou hoverest. 
 Whether above that high first-moving sphere^ 
 Or in th' Elysian fields, (if such they were,) 
 O say me true, if thou wert mortal wight, 
 And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy 
 flight ? 
 
 VII. 
 
 Wert thou some star which from the ruin'd roof 
 Of shak'd Olympus by mischance didst fall ; 
 Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof 
 Took up, and in fit place did reinstall ? 
 Or did of late earth's sons besiege the wall 
 
156 POEMS. 
 
 Of sheeny Heaven, and thou, some goddess fled, 
 Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head ? 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Or wert thou that just maid who once before 
 
 Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth, 
 
 And cam'st again to visit us once more ? 
 
 Or wert thou, [Mercy,] that sweet smiling Youth ? 
 
 Or that cro^vn'd matron sage white-robed Truth ? 
 
 Or any other of that heavenly brood 
 Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some 
 good? 
 
 IX. 
 
 Or wert thou of the golden-winged host, 
 
 Who having clad thyself in human weed. 
 
 To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, 
 
 And after short abode fly back with speed. 
 
 As if to show what creatures Heaven doth breed ; 
 
 Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire 
 To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heaven aspire ? 
 
 X. 
 
 But oh ! why didst thou not stay here below 
 To bless us with thy heaven-lov'd innocence, 
 To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe. 
 To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence, 
 Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence. 
 
 To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart ? 
 But thou canst best perform that ofiice where thou 
 art. 
 
 XL 
 
 Then thou < the mother of so sweet a child, 
 Her false imagin'd loss cease to lament, 
 And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild ; 
 Think what a present thou to God hast sent, 
 And render him with patience what he lent ; 
 
POEMS. 157 
 
 This if thou do, he will an offering give 
 That till the world's last end shall make thy name to 
 live. 
 
 Anno ^tatis 19. (1627.) At a Vacation Exercise in 
 the College^ part Latin^ part English. The Latin 
 Speeches ended^ the English thus began: 
 
 Hail, native language, that by sinews weak 
 Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak, 
 And mad'st imperfect words with childish trips, 
 Half unpronounc'd, slide through my infant lips 
 Driving dumb Silence from the portal door. 
 Where he had mutely sat two years before ; 
 Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask, 
 That now I use thee in my latter task : 
 Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee, 
 I know my tongue but little grace can do thee : 
 Thou need'st not be ambitious to be first. 
 Believe me I have thither pack'd the worst : 
 And, if it happen as I did forecast, 
 The daintiest dishes shall be serv'd up last. 
 I pray thee then deny me not thy aid 
 For this same small neglect that I have made : 
 But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure, 
 And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefest treasure 
 Not those new fangled toys, and trimming slight 
 \Vliich takes our late fantastics with delight, 
 But cull those richest robes, and gay'st attire 
 Which deepest spirits, and choicest wits desire : 
 I have some naked thoughts that rove about, 
 And loudly knock to have their passage out ; 
 And weary of their place do only stay 
 Till thou hast deck'd them in thy best array ; 
 That so they may without suspect or fears 
 Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears. 
 Yet I had rather, if I were to chose, 
 Q 
 
158 POEMS. 
 
 Thy service in some graver subject use, 
 
 Such as may make thee search thy coffers round, 
 
 Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound : 
 
 Such where the deep transported mind may soar 
 
 Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door 
 
 Look in, and see each bliseful Deity 
 
 How he before the thunderous throne doth lie, 
 
 List'ning to what unshorn Apollo sings 
 
 To th' touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings 
 
 Immortal nectar to her kingly sire ; 
 
 Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire, 
 
 And misty regions of wide air next under, 
 
 And hills of snow, and lofts of piled thunder, 
 
 May tell at length how green-ey'd Neptune raves, 
 
 In Heaven's defiance mustering all his waves ; 
 
 Then sing of secret things that came to pass 
 
 When beldam Nature in her cradle was ; 
 
 And last of kings and queens and heroes old, 
 
 Such as the wise Demodocus once told 
 
 In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast 
 
 "While sad Ulysses' soul and all the rest 
 
 Are held with his melodious harmony 
 
 In willing chains and sweet captivity; 
 
 But fie, my wand'ring Muse, how thou dost stray ! 
 
 Expectance calls thee now another way ; 
 
 Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent 
 
 To keep in compass of thy predicament : 
 
 Then quick about thy purpos'd business come, 
 
 That to the next I may resign my room. 
 
 Then Ens is represented as Father of the Predicaments 
 his ten Sons^ whereof the eldest stood for Substance 
 with his CanonSj which thus speaking- explains : 
 
 Good luck befriend thee, Son ; for at thy birth 
 The fairy ladies danc'd upon the hearth ; 
 Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy 
 Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie. 
 And, sweetly singing round about thy bed, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 159 
 
 Strow all their blessings on thy sleeping head. 
 
 She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldst still 
 
 From eyes of mortals walk invisible ; 
 
 Yet there is something that doth force my fear, 
 
 For once it was my dismal hap to hear 
 
 A Sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age. 
 
 That far events full wisely could presage, 
 
 And in time's long and dark prospective glass 
 
 Foresaw what future ^'ays should bring to pass : 
 
 Your son, said she, (nor can you it prevent,) 
 
 Shall subject be to many an accident. 
 
 O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king, 
 
 Yet every one shall make him underling. 
 
 And those that cannot live from himassunder 
 
 Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under, 
 
 In worth and excellence he shall out-go them, 
 
 Yet being above them, he shall be below them ; 
 
 From others he shall stand in need of nothing, 
 
 Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing ; 
 
 To fmd a foe it shall not be his hap, 
 
 And Peace shall lull him in her flowery lap ; 
 
 Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door 
 
 Devouring War shall never cease to roar; 
 
 Yea it shall be his natural property 
 
 To harbour those that are at enmity. 
 
 What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not 
 
 Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot ? 
 
 *rhe next Quantity and Quality spake in Prose; then 
 Relation was called by his Name. 
 
 Rivers, arise ; whether thou be the son 
 Of utmost Tweed, or Cose, or gulfy Don, ■ 
 
 Or Trent, who like some earth-born giant spreads ' 
 His thirty arms along th' indented meads ; 
 Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath 
 Or Severn swift, guilty of maidens' death ; 
 Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee, 
 Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee ; 
 
160 POEMS. 
 
 Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name , 
 Or Meday smooth, or royal tower'd Thame, 
 [ The rest was prose^ 
 
 ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S 
 NATIVITY. 
 
 Composed in 1629. 
 I. 
 
 This is the month, and this the happy morn, 
 Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King, 
 Of wedded Maid, and Virgin-Mother born, 
 Our great redemption from above did bring ; 
 For so the holy sages once did sing. 
 
 That he our deadly forfeit should release. 
 And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. 
 
 IL 
 
 That glorious form, that light unsufferable, 
 And that far-beaming blaze of majesty, 
 Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table 
 To sit the midst of Trinal-Unity, 
 He laid aside ; and, here with us to be, 
 Forsook the courts of everlasting day. 
 And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. 
 
 III. 
 
 Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 
 
 Afford a present to the Infant God ? 
 
 Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, 
 
 To welcome him to this his new abode. 
 
 Now while the Heaven by the sun's team untrod, 
 
 Hath took no print of the approaching light. 
 And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons 
 bright ? 
 
POEMS. 161 
 
 IV. 
 
 See how from far upon the eastern road 
 
 The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet ; 
 
 O run, prevent them with thy humble ode, 
 
 And lay it lowly at his blessed feet ; 
 
 Have thou the honour first thy Lord to gi'eet, 
 
 And join thy voice unto the Angel choir. 
 From out his secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. 
 
 THE HYMN. 
 
 I. 
 
 It was the winter wild, 
 While the Heaven-born child 
 
 All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies , 
 Nature in awe to him 
 Had dofl^d her gaudy trim, 
 
 With her great Master so to sympathize ; 
 It was no season then for her 
 To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. 
 
 II. 
 
 Only, with speeches fair, 
 She woes the gentle air, 
 
 To hide her guilty front with innocent snow ; 
 And on her naked shame. 
 Pollute with sinful blame, 
 
 The saintly veil of maiden white to throw ; 
 Confounded, that her Maker's eyes 
 Should look so near upon her foul deformities. 
 
 III. 
 
 But he her fears to cease 
 
 Sent down the meek-ey'd Peace ; 
 
 She, crown'd with olive green, came softly-sliding^ 
 O* 
 
162 POEMS. 
 
 Down through the turning sphere 
 His ready harbinger, 
 
 With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, 
 And waving wide her myrtle wand, 
 She strikes an universal peace through sea and land. 
 
 IV. 
 
 No war, or battle's sound 
 Was heard the world around, 
 
 The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; 
 The hooked chariot stood 
 Unstain'd with hostile blood ; 
 
 The trumpet spake not to the arm'd throng ; 
 And kings sat still with awful eye, 
 As if they surely knew their sov'reign Lord, was by. 
 
 V. 
 
 But peaceful was the night, 
 Wherein the Prince of Light 
 
 His reign of peace upon the earth began : 
 The winds, with wonder whist, 
 Smoothly the waters kiss'd, 
 
 Whisp'ring new joys to the mild ocean ; 
 Who now hath quite forgot to rave. 
 While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed waye# 
 
 VI. 
 
 The stars, with deep amaze, 
 Stand fix'd in steadfast gaze, 
 
 Bending one way their precious influence, 
 And will not take their flight, 
 For all the morning light. 
 
 Or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence ; 
 But in their glimering orbs did glow, 
 Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. 
 
POEMS. 163 
 
 VII. 
 
 And though the shady gloom 
 Had given day her room, 
 
 The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, 
 And hide his head for shame, 
 As his inferior flame 
 
 The new enlighten'd world no more should need *, 
 He saw a greater Sun appear 
 
 Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could 
 bear. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The shepherds on the lawn. 
 Or ere the point of dawn, 
 
 Sat simply chatting in a rustic row ; 
 Full Uttle thought they then, 
 Thafelthe mighty Pan 
 
 Was kindly come to live with them below : 
 Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, 
 Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. 
 
 IX. 
 
 When such music sweet 
 Their hearts and ears did greet, 
 
 As never was by mortal finger strook ; 
 Divinely-warbled voice 
 Answering the stringed noise, 
 
 As all their souls in blissful rapture took : 
 The air, such pleasures loth to lose, 
 With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly 
 close. 
 
 X. 
 
 Nature that heard such sound, 
 Beneath the hollow round 
 
 Of Cynthia's seat, the airy region thxilling, 
 Now was almost won 
 To think her part was done, 
 
164 POEMS. 
 
 And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; 
 She knew such harmony alone 
 Could hold all Heaven and Earth in happier union. 
 
 XL 
 
 At last surrounds their sight 
 •A globe of circular light, 
 
 That with long beams the shame-fac'd night ar 
 ray'd ; 
 The helmed Cherubim, 
 And sworded Seraphim, 
 
 Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed, 
 Harping in loud and solemn choir, 
 With unexpressive notes, to Heaven's new-born 
 Heir. 
 
 XII. 
 
 (Such music (as 'tis said) 
 Before was never made, 
 
 But when of old the sons of morning sung. 
 While the Creator great 
 His constellation set, 
 
 And the well-balanc'd world on hinges hung^ 
 And cast the dark foundations deep, 
 And bid the welt'ring waves their oozy channel keep, 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Ring out, ye crystal Spheres, 
 Once bless our human ears, 
 
 (If ye have power to touch our senses so,) 
 And let your silver chime 
 .^ove in melodious time ; 
 
 And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow ; 
 And with your ninefold harmony 
 Make up full concert to th' angelic symphony. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 For if such holy song 
 Inwrap our fancy long, 
 
POEMS. 165 
 
 Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold ; 
 And speckled Vanity- 
 Will sicken soon and die, 
 
 And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould 
 And Hell itself will pass away, 
 And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day 
 XV. 
 
 Yea Truth and Justice then, 
 Will down return to men, 
 
 Orb'd in a rainbow ; and, like glories wearing, 
 Mercy will sit between, 
 Thron'd in celestial sheen. 
 
 With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering* 
 And Heaven, as at some festival, 
 Will open wide the gates of her high palace halL 
 
 XVL 
 
 But wisest fate says no, 
 This must not yet be so. 
 
 The Babe lies yet in smiling infancy, 
 That on the bitter cross 
 Must redeem our loss ; 
 
 So both himself and us to glorify : 
 Yet first, to those ychain'd in sleep, 
 The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through 
 the deep, 
 
 xvn. 
 
 With such a horrid clang 
 As on mount Sinai rang, 
 
 While the red fire and smouldering clouds out brake 
 The aged earth aghast, 
 With terror of that blast. 
 
 Shall from the surface to the centre shake ; 
 When at the world's last session, 
 The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his 
 throne. 
 
166 POEMS. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 And then at last our bliss 
 Full and perfect is, 
 
 But now begins ; for from this happy day 
 rh' old Dragon under ground 
 In straiter limits bound, 
 
 Not half so far cast his usurped sway, 
 And, wroth to see his kingdom fail, 
 Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail. 
 
 XI. 
 
 The oracles are dumb, 
 No voice or hideous hum 
 
 Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 
 Apollo from his shrine 
 Can no more divine. 
 
 With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. 
 No nightly trance, or breathed spell, 
 Inspires the pale-ey'd priest from the prophetic cell. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The lonely mountains o'er 
 And the resounding shore, 
 
 A voice of weeping heard and loud lament ; 
 From haunted spring and dale, 
 Edg'd with poplar pale, 
 
 The parting Genius is with sighing sent : 
 With flower-inwoven tresses torn. 
 The Nymphs, in twilight shade of tangled thickets, 
 
 mourn. 
 ' XXI. 
 
 Tn consecrated earth, " * 
 
 And on the holy hearth. 
 
 The Lares and Lemures moan with midnight plaint ; 
 In urns and altars round, 
 A drear and dying sound 
 
 Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; 
 
POEMS. 167 
 
 And the chill marhle seems to sweat, 
 
 While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Peor and Baalim 
 Forsake their temples dim 
 
 With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine ; 
 And mooned Ashtaroth, 
 Heaven's queen and mother both, 
 
 Now sits not girt with tapers holy shine ; 
 The Lybic Hammon shrinks his horn, 
 In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz 
 mourn. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 And sullen Moloch fled, 
 Hath left in shadows dread 
 
 His burning idol all of blackest hue ; 
 In vain with cymbals ring. 
 They call the grisly king, 
 
 In dismal dance about the furnace blue : 
 The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 
 Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Nor is Osiris seen 
 
 In Memphian grove or green. 
 
 Trampling the unshower'd grass with lowings loud : 
 Nor can he be at rest 
 Within his sacred chest, 
 
 Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud ; 
 In vain with timbrel'd anthems dark 
 The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipp'd ark. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 He feels from Judah's land 
 The dreaded Infant's hand. 
 
 The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyne ; 
 
168 POEBtS. 
 
 Nor all the gods besides, 
 Longer dare abide, 
 
 Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine : 
 Our Babe, to show his Godhead true, 
 Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 So when the sun in bed, 
 Curtain'd with cloudy red, 
 
 Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, 
 The flocking shadows pale 
 Troop to th' infernal jail, 
 
 Each fetter 'd ghost slips to his several grave ; 
 And the yellow-skirted fays 
 Fly after the night steeds, leaving their moon-lov'd 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 But see, the Virgin-bless'd 
 Hath laid her Babe to rest. 
 
 Time is, our tedious song should here have ending : 
 Heaven's youngest-teemed star 
 Hath fix'd her polish'd car, 
 
 Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending : 
 And all about the courtly stable 
 Bright-harness 'd angels sit in order serviceable. 
 
 THE PASSION. =^ 
 
 L 
 
 Erewhile of music, and etherial mirth, 
 Wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring, 
 And joyous news of Heavenly Infant's birth, 
 
 * This poem appears to have been composed soon after the Ode 
 on the Nativity. 
 
POEMS. 169 
 
 My Muse with Angels did divide to sing ; 
 But headlong joy is ever on the wing, 
 
 In wintry solstice like the shorten'd light 
 Soon swallow'd up in dark, and long out-living night. 
 
 II. 
 
 For now to sorrow must I tune my song, 
 And set my harp to notes of saddest wo, 
 Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long, 
 Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so, 
 Which he for us did freely undergo : 
 
 Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight 
 Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human weight ! 
 
 III. 
 
 He, sovereign Priest, stooping his regal head, 
 That droop'd with odorous oil down his fair eyes, 
 Poor fleshly tabernacle enter'd 
 His starry front low-roof 'd beneath the skies ; 
 O, what a mask was there, what a disguise I 
 
 Yet more ; the stroke of death he must abide, 
 Then lies him meekly down fast by his brethren's side 
 
 IV. 
 
 These latest scenes confine my roving verse ; 
 To this horizon is my Phoebus bound : 
 His godlike acts, and his temptations fierce, 
 And former sufferings, other where are found ; 
 Loud o'er the rest Cremonas' trump doth sound ; 
 
 Me softer airs befit, and softer strings 
 Df lute or viol still, more apt for mournful things, 
 
 V. 
 
 Befriend me, Night, best patroness of grief; 
 
 Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw. 
 
 And work my flatter'd fancy to belief, 
 
 That Heaven and Earth are colour'd with my wo; 
 
 My sorrows are too dark for day to know : 
 
 
170 POEMS 
 
 The leaves should all be black whereon I write, 
 And letters, where my tears have wash'd^ a wannish 
 white. 
 
 VI. 
 
 See, see the chariot, and those rushing" wheels, 
 That whirl 'd the Prophet up at Chebar flood ; 
 My spirit some transporting Cherub feels, 
 To bear me where the towers of Salem stood. 
 Once glorious towers, now sunk in guiltless blood : 
 
 There doth my soul in holy vision sit. 
 In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit» 
 
 VII. 
 
 Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock 
 That was the casket of Heaven's richest store ; 
 And here though grief my feeble hands up lock, 
 Yet on the soften'd quarry would I score 
 My plaining verse as lively as before : 
 
 For sure so well instructed are my tears, 
 That they would fitly fall in order'd characters. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Or should I thence hurried on viewless wing. 
 Take up a weeping on the mountains wild. 
 The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring 
 Would soon unbosom all their echoes mild, 
 And I (for grief is easily beguil'd) 
 
 Might think th' infection of my sorrows loud 
 Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud. 
 
 This subject the Author finding to be above th 
 years he had, when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied 
 with what was begun, left it unfinished. 
 
POEMS. 171 
 
 ON TIME,=^ 
 
 Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race ; 
 Call on the lazy, leaden-stepping hours, 
 Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace ; 
 And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, 
 Which is no more than is false and vain, 
 And merely mortal dross ; 
 So little is our loss, 
 So little is thy gain ! 
 
 For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd, 
 And last of all thy greedy self consum'd, 
 Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss 
 "With an individual kiss ; 
 And Joy shall overtake us as a flood, 
 When every thing that is sincerely good 
 And perfectly divine. 
 
 With Truth, and Peace, and Love, shall ever shine 
 About the supreme throne 
 Of Him, to whose happy-making sight alone 
 When once our heavenly guided souls shall climb, 
 Then, all this earthly grossness quit, 
 Attir'd with stars, we shall for ever sit, 
 Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O 
 Time .' 
 
 UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. 
 
 Ye flaming Powers, and winged warriors bright. 
 That erst with music, and triumphant song, 
 First heard by happy watchful shepherds' ear, 
 So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along 
 Through the soft silence of the list'ning night ; 
 
 ♦ In these poems where no date is prefixed, and no ch'cumstances 
 direct us to ascertain the time when they were composed, we follow 
 the order of Milton's own editions. And before this copy of verses 
 it appears, from the manuscript, that the poet had written, To be 
 set on a clock-case. 
 
172 POEMS. 
 
 Now mourn ; and, if sad share with us to bear 
 
 Your fiery essence can distil no tear, 
 
 Burn in your sighs, and borrow 
 
 Seas wept from our deep sorrow. 
 
 He, who with all Heaven's heraldry whilere 
 
 Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease ; 
 
 Alas, how soon our sin 
 
 Sore doth begin 
 
 His infancy to seize ! 
 O more exceeding love, or law more just ! 
 Just law indeed, but more exceeding love ! 
 For we, by rightful doom remediless, 
 Were lost in death, till he, that dwelt above 
 High thron'd in secret bliss, for us frail dust 
 Emptied his glory, ev'n to nakedness ; 
 And that great covenant which we still transgress 
 Entirely satisfied ; 
 And the full wrath beside 
 Of vengeful justice bore for our excess ; 
 And seals obedience first, with w^ounding smart, 
 This day ; but O, ere long, 
 Huge pangs and strong 
 
 Will pierce more near his heart. 
 
 AT A SOLEMN MUSIC. 
 
 Bless'd pair of Syrens, pledges of Heaven's joy, 
 
 Sphere-born, harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, 
 
 Wed your divine sounds, and mix'd power employ 
 
 Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce ; 
 
 And to our high rais'd phantasy present 
 
 That undisturbed song of pure content, 
 
 Aye sung before the sapphire-colour'd throne, 
 
 To him that sits thereon, 
 
 With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee, 
 
 Where the bright Seraphim, in burning row, 
 
 Their loud, up-liften angel-trumpets blow, 
 
 And the cherubic host, in thousand choir, 
 
POEMS. 173 
 
 Touch. their immortal harps of gold<:a wires, 
 
 "With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms, 
 
 Hymns devout and holy psalms 
 
 Singing everlastingly : 
 
 That we on earth, with undiscording voice, 
 
 May rightly answer that melodious noise : 
 
 As once we did ; till disproportion'd sin 
 
 Jarr'd against Nature's chime, and with harsh din 
 
 Broke the fair music that all creatures made 
 
 To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd 
 
 In perfect diapason, whilst they stood 
 
 In first obedience, and their state of good. 
 
 O, may we soon again renew that song. 
 
 And keep in tune with heaven, till God, ere long, 
 
 To his celestial concert us unite. 
 
 To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light ! 
 
 AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF 
 WINCHESTER.^ 
 
 This rich marble doth inter 
 
 The honour'd wife of Winchester, 
 
 A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir, 
 
 Besides what her virtues fair 
 
 Added to her noble birth, 
 
 More than she could own from earth. 
 
 Summers three times eight save one 
 
 She had told ; alas ! too soon. 
 
 After so short time of breath. 
 
 To house with darkness, and with death. 
 
 Yet had the number of her days 
 
 * This Lady was Jane, daughter of Thomas Lord Vise. Savage 
 of Rock-Savage, Cheshire, who by marriage became the heir of 
 Lord Darcy, Earl of Rivers ; and v?as the wife of John Marquis 
 of Winchester, and the mother of Charles first duke of Bolton. 
 She died in childbed of a second son in the 23d year of her age ; 
 and Milton made these verses at Cambridge, as appears by the 
 sequel. p^ 
 
174 POEMS. 
 
 Been as complete as was her praise, 
 Nature and Fate had had no strife 
 In giving limit to her life. 
 
 Her high birth, and her graces sweet, 
 Quickly found a lover meet ; 
 The virgin choir for her request 
 The God that sits at marriage feast ; 
 He at their invoking came, 
 But with a scarce well-lighted flame ; 
 And in his garland, as he stood, 
 Ye might discern a cypress bud. 
 Once had the early matrons run 
 To greet her of a lovely son, 
 And now with second hope she goes, 
 And calls Lucina to her throes ; 
 But, whether by mischance or blame, 
 Atropos for Lucina came ; 
 And, with remorseless cruelty, 
 Spoil 'd at once both fruit and tree ; 
 The hapless babe, before his birth, 
 Had burial, yet not laid in earth ; 
 And the languish'd mother's womb 
 Was not long a living tomb. 
 
 So have I seen some tender slip, 
 Sav'd with care from winter's nip ; 
 The pride of her carnation train 
 Pluck'd up by some unheedy swain, 
 Who only thought to crop the flower 
 New shot up from vernal shower ; 
 But the fair blossom hangs the head 
 Side-ways, as on a dying bed, 
 And those pearls of dew she wearSr 
 Prove to be presaging tears, 
 Which the sad morn had let fall 
 On her hast'ning funeral. 
 
 Gentle Lady, may thy grave 
 Peace and quiet ever have. 
 After this thy travail sore 
 Sweet rest seize thee evermore, 
 
POEMS. 175 
 
 That to give the world increase, 
 
 Shorten'd haste thy own life's lease. 
 
 Here, besides the sorrowing 
 
 That thy noble house doth bring. 
 
 Here be tears of perfect moan 
 
 Wept for thee in Helicon ; 
 
 And some flowers, and some bays 
 
 For thy hearse to strew the ways. 
 
 Sent thee from the banks of Came, 
 
 Devoted to thy virtuous name ; 
 
 Whilst thou, bright Saint, high sitt'st in glory, 
 
 Next her, much like to thee in story, 
 
 That fair Syrian Shepherdess, 
 
 Wh-0, after years of barrenness, 
 
 The highly favour'd Joseph bore * 
 
 To him that serv'd for her before. 
 
 And at her birth, much like thee, 
 
 Through pangs fled to felicity. 
 
 Far within the bosom bright 
 
 Of blazing Majesty and Light: 
 
 There with thee, new welcome Saint, 
 
 Like fortunes may her soul acquaint, 
 
 With thee there clad in radiant sheen, 
 
 No Marchioness, but now a queen. 
 
 SONG.— ON MAY MORNING. 
 
 Now the bright Morning-star, day's harbinger. 
 Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her 
 The flowery May, who from her green lap throws 
 The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. 
 Hail, bounteous May, thou dost inspire 
 Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; 
 Woods, and groves are of thy dressing, 
 Hill, and dale doth boast thy blessing. 
 Thus we salute thee with our early song, 
 Aad welcome thee, and wish thee long. 
 
176 POEMS. 
 
 ON SHAKSPEARE. 1630. 
 
 What needs my Shakspeare, for his honour'd bones, 
 
 The labour of an age in piled stones ? 
 
 Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid 
 
 Under a star-ypointing pyramid? 
 
 Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, 
 
 What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? 
 
 Thou in our wonder and astonishment 
 
 Hast built thyself a live-long monument. 
 
 For whilst, to th' shame of slow endeavoring art, 
 
 Thy easy numbers flow ; and that each heart 
 
 Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, 
 
 Those Delphic lines with deep inpression took, 
 
 Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, 
 
 Dost make us marble with too much conceiving. 
 
 And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie, 
 
 That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die. 
 
 ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER, 
 
 JITw sickened in the time of his vacancy ; being forbid 
 to go to London^ by reason of the plague* 
 
 Here lies old Hobson ; Death hath broke his girt, 
 And, here, alas ! hath lain him in the dirt ; 
 Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one, 
 He's here stuck in a slough and overthrown. 
 'Twas such a shifter, that, if truth were known, 
 Death was half glad when he had got him down ; 
 For he had, any time this ten years full, 
 
 * We have the following account of this extraordinary man in 
 the Spectator, No. 509. " Mr. Tobias Kobson was a carrier, and 
 the first man in this island who let out hackney-horses. He lived 
 in Cambridge ; and observing that the scholars rid hard, his man- 
 ner was, to keep a large stable of horses, with boots, bridles, and 
 
POEMS, 377 
 
 Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull. 
 
 And surely Death could never have prevail'd, 
 
 Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd ; 
 
 But lately finding him so long at home, 
 
 And thinking now his journey's end was come, 
 
 And that he had ta'en up his latest inn ; 
 
 In the kind office of a chamberlain 
 
 Shovv'd him his room where h-e must lodge that night, 
 
 Pull'd. off his boots, and took away the light; 
 
 If any ask for him, it shall be said, 
 
 Hobson has supp'd, and's newly gone to bed. 
 
 ANOTHER ON THE SAME. 
 
 Here lieth one, who did most truly prove 
 
 That he could never die, while he could move ; 
 
 So hung his destiny, never to rot 
 
 While he might still jog on and keep his trot, 
 
 Made of sphere-metal, never to decay 
 
 Until his revolution was at stay. 
 
 Tim.e numbers motion, yet (without a crime 
 
 'Gainst old truth) motion number'd out his time : 
 
 And, like an engine mov'd with wheel and weight 
 
 His principles being ceas'd, he ended straight. 
 
 whips, to furnish the gentlemen at once, without going from col- 
 lege to college to borrow, as they have done since the death of this 
 worthy man : I say, Mr. Hobson kept a stable of forty good cat- 
 tle, always ready and fit for travelling : but when, a man came for 
 horse, he was led into the stable, where there was great choice ; 
 ut he obliged him to take the horse which stood next to the sta- 
 c-door, so that every customer was alike well served, according 
 his chance, and every horse ridden with the same justice. From 
 whence it became a proverb, when what ought to be your election 
 was forced upon you, to say Hobson' s choice. This memorable 
 man stands drawn in fresco at an inn (which he used) in Bishops- 
 gate-strcet, with a hundred pound bag under his arm, with this in- 
 xjrntion upon the said bag : 
 
 The fruitful mother of a hundred more." 
 
178 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Rest, that gives all men life, gave him his death 
 And too much breathing put him out of breath : 
 Nor were it contradiction to affirm. 
 Too long vacation hasten'd on his term. 
 Merely to drive the time away he sicken 'd, 
 Fainted, and died, nor would vv^iui ale be quickcn'd 
 Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd 
 [f I may'nt carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetch'd, 
 But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers, 
 For one carrier put down to make to malce six bear- 
 ers. 
 Ease was his chief disease ; and, to judge right, 
 He died for heaviness that his cart went light ; 
 His leisure told him that his time was come, 
 And lack of load made his life burdensome, 
 That even to his last breath, (there be that say't,) 
 As he were press'd to death, he cried, More weight ; 
 But, had his doings lasted as they were, 
 He had been an immortal carrier. 
 Obedient to the moon he spent his date, 
 In course reciprocal, and had his fate 
 Link'd to the mutual flowing of the seas 
 Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase : 
 His letters are deliver'd all and gone, 
 Only remains this superscription. 
 
 ARCADES.* 
 
 Part of an Entertainment 'presented to the Countess 
 Dowager of Derby at Harejield, by some noble jtersona 
 of her family, who appear on the scene in pastoral habit 
 moving toward the seat of state, with this Sotig. 
 
 L SONG. 
 
 Look, Nymphs and Shepherds, look, 
 What sudden blaze of majesty 
 
 ♦ This poesra is only part of an Entertainment, or Mask, the lesl 
 
POEMS. 179 
 
 Is that which wg from hence descry, 
 
 Too divine to be mistook : * ' 
 
 This, this is she 
 To whom our vows and wishes bend : 
 Here our solemn search hath end. 
 Fame, that, her high worth to raise 
 Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse, 
 "We may justly now accuse 
 Of detraction from her praise ; 
 
 Less than half we find express'd, 
 
 JEnvy bid conceal the rest. 
 
 Mark, what radiant state she spreads, 
 In circle round her shining throne, 
 Shooting her beams like silver threads ; 
 This, this is she alone, 
 
 Sitting like a goddess bright, 
 
 In the centre of her light. 
 
 Might she the wise Latona be, 
 Or the tower'd Cybele, 
 Mother of a hundred gods ; 
 Juno dares not give her odds : 
 
 Who had thought this clime had held 
 
 A deity so unparallel'd ? 
 
 probably being of a different nature, or composed by a different 
 hand. This Countess Dowager of Derby to whom it was pre«!en- 
 ted, must have been Alice, daughter of Sir John Spencer of Al- 
 *irT^,-^P^^?^™P*°"^^^'^^' ^"^ widow of Ferdinando Stanley, the 
 fafth Earl of Derby. And as Harefield is in Middlesex, and, ac 
 cordmg to Camden, lieth a little to the north of Uxbridge, we may 
 conclude, that Milton made this poem while he resided in thai 
 neighbourhood with his father at Horton near Colebrooke. P 
 should seem too, that it was made before the mask at Ludlow, as it 
 is a more imperfect essay. And Frances, the second daut^hter of 
 this Countess Dowager of Derby, being married to John Earl of 
 Bndgewater, before whom was presented flie Mask at Ludiow, we 
 may conceive in some measure how Milton was induced to com' 
 pose the one after the other. The alliance between the families na- 
 turally and easily accounts for it : and in all probability, the Gen- 
 ius of the wood in this poem, as well as the attendant Spirit in the 
 Mask, was Mr. Henry Lawes, who was the orreat master of mu- 
 sic at that time, and taught most of tht^ voung nobilitv. 
 
380 POEMS. 
 
 As they come forward, the Genius of the Wood appears^ 
 and turning towards them, speaks. 
 
 GENIUS. 
 
 Stay, gentle Swains ; for, though in this disguise 
 
 I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes ; 
 
 Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung 
 
 Of that renowned flood, so often sung ; 
 
 Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluice 
 
 Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse ; 
 
 And ye, the breathing roses of the wood. 
 
 Fair, silver-buskin'd Nymphs, as great and good ; 
 
 I know, this quest of yours, and free intent. 
 
 Was all in honour and devotion meant 
 
 To the great mistress of yon princely shrine, 
 
 Whom with low reverence I adore as mine ; 
 
 And with all helpful service will comply, 
 
 To further this night's glad solemnity ; 
 
 And lead ye, where ye may more near behold 
 
 What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold , 
 
 Which I full oft, amidst these shades alone, 
 
 Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon : 
 
 For know, by lot from Jove, I am the Power 
 
 Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower. 
 
 To nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove 
 
 With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove 
 
 And all my plants I save from nightly ill 
 
 Of noisome winds, and blasting vapours chill : 
 
 And from the boughs brush off the evil dew. 
 
 And heal the arms of thwarting thunder blue, 
 
 Or what the cross, dire4ooking planet smites, 
 
 Or hurtful worm Avith canker'd venom bites. 
 
 When evening gray doth rise, I fetch my round, 
 
 Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground, 
 
 And early, ere the odourous breath of morn 
 
 Awakes the slumb'ring leaves, or tassel'd horn 
 
 Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about, 
 
 Number my ranks, aod visit every sprout 
 
POEMS. 181 
 
 With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless : 
 
 But else in deep of night when drowsiness 
 
 Hath iock'd up mortal sense, then listen I 
 
 To the celestial Syrens' harmony, 
 
 That sit upon the ninefolded spheres, 
 
 And sing to those that hold the vital shears ; 
 
 And turn the adamantine spindle round. 
 
 On which the fate of Gods and Men is wound. 
 
 Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie, 
 
 To lull the daughters of Necessity, 
 
 And keep unsteady Nature to her law. 
 
 And the low world in measur'd motion draw 
 
 After the heavenly tune, which none can hear 
 
 Of human mould with gross unpurged ear ; 
 
 And yet such music worthiest were to blaze 
 
 The peerless height of her immortal praise. 
 
 Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit^ 
 
 If my inferior hand or voice could hit 
 
 Inimitable sounds : yet, as we go, 
 
 Whate'er the skill of lesser gods can show, 
 
 I will assay her worth to celebrate. 
 
 And so attend ye toward her glittering state ; 
 
 Where ye may all, that are of noble stem. 
 
 Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture's henif 
 
 II. SONG. 
 
 O'er the smooth enamell'd green 
 Where no print of step hath been, 
 
 Follow me, as I sing 
 
 And touch the warbled string, 
 Under the shady roof 
 Of branching elm star-proof. 
 
 Follow me ; 
 I will bring you where she sits, 
 Clad in splendour, as befits 
 
 Her deity. 
 Such a rural Queen 
 All Arcadia hath not seen. 
 O 
 
182 /OEMS. 
 
 III. SONG. 
 
 Nymphs and Shepherds, dance no more 
 By sandy Ladon's lilied banks ; 
 On old Lycseus, or Cyllene hoar, 
 Trip no more in twilight ranks ; 
 Though Erymanth your loss deplore, 
 
 A better soil shall give ye thanks. 
 From the stony MsBnalus 
 Bring your flocks, and live with us ; 
 Here ye shall h-ave greater grace, 
 To serve- the Lady of this place. 
 Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were, 
 Yet Syrinx well might wait on her. 
 Such a rural Queen 
 All Arcadia hath not seen. 
 
 LYCIDAS.* 
 
 In this Monody, the author bewails a learned frienay 
 unfortunately drowned in his passage from Chester on 
 the Irish seas^ 1637; and by occasion foretells the 
 ruin of our corrupted clergy, then in their height. 
 
 Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more 
 
 Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, 
 
 I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude ; 
 
 And, with forc'd fingers rude. 
 
 Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year : 
 
 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, 
 
 * This poem was made upon the unfortunate and untimely 
 death of Mr. Edward King, son of Sir John King, Secretary for 
 Ireland, a fellow collegian and intimate friend of Milton, who, as 
 he was going to visit his relations in Ireland was drowned, Aug. 
 10, 1637, in the 25th year of his age. This poem is with great judg- 
 ment made of the pastoral kind, as both Mr. King and Milton 
 had been designed for holy orders and the pastoral care, which 
 gives a peculiar propriety to several passages m it. 
 
POEMS. 183 
 
 Compels me to disturb your season due : 
 For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, 
 Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : 
 Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew 
 Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 
 He must not float upon his wat'ry bier 
 Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, 
 Without the meed of some melodious tear. 
 
 Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well, 
 That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring; 
 Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. 
 Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse : 
 So may some gentle Muse 
 With lucky words favour my d&stin'd urn, 
 And, as he passes, turn., 
 And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud : 
 For we were nurs'd upon the self-SEune hill, 
 Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. 
 Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd 
 Under the opening eye-lids of the morn, 
 We drove afield, and both together heard 
 What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn. 
 Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night, 
 Oft, till the star that rose at evening, bright, 
 Toward Heaven's descent had slop'd his west'ring 
 
 wheel. 
 Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, 
 Temper'd to th' oaten flute ; 
 
 Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fawns with cloven heel 
 From the glad sound would not be absent long; 
 And old Damoetas lov'd to hear our song. 
 
 But, the heavy change, now thou art gone, 
 Nfow thou art gone, and never must return ! 
 Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves. 
 With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, 
 And all their echoes mourn : 
 The willows, and hazel copses green, 
 Shall now no more be seen, 
 Fanning their ioyous leaves to thy soft lays. 
 
184 POEMS. 
 
 As killing as the canker to the rose, 
 
 Or taint-worm to the weanling-herds that graze, 
 
 Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear, 
 
 When first the white-thorn blow ; 
 
 Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear. 
 
 Where were ye. Nymphs, when the remorseles 
 deep 
 Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas? 
 , For neither were ye playing on the steep. 
 Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, 
 Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high. 
 Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream : 
 Ay me ! I fondly dream ! 
 
 Had ye been there — for what could that have done * 
 What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, 
 The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, 
 Whom universal Nature did lament. 
 When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, 
 His gory visage down the stream was sent, 
 Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore ? 
 
 Alas ! what boots it with incessant care 
 To tend the homely, slighted shepherd's trade, 
 And strictly meditate the thankless Muse ? 
 Were it not better done, as other use, 
 To sport with Amarylis in the shade, 
 Or with the tangles of Nesera's hair, 
 Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise, 
 (That last infirmity of noble mind,) 
 To scorn delights, and live laborious day ; 
 But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, 
 And think to burst out into sudden blaze. 
 Comes to blind Fury with th' abhorred shears, 
 And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise, 
 Phoebus replied, and touch'd my trembling ears ; 
 Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil. 
 Nor in the glist'ring foil. 
 Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor lies ; 
 But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, 
 And perfect witness of all-judging Jove 
 
»OEMS. 
 
 M 
 
 A.S he pronounces lastly on each deed, 
 
 Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed 
 
 O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd flood. 
 Smooth-sliding- Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds, 
 That strain I heard was of a higher mood : 
 But now my oat proceeds, 
 A.nd listens to the herald of the sea 
 That came in Neptune's plea ; 
 He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, 
 What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain ? 
 And question'd every gust of rugged winds, 
 That blows from off each beaked promontory : 
 They knew not of his story ; 
 And sage Hippotades their answer brings, 
 That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd. 
 The air was calm, and on the level brine 
 Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd. 
 It was that fatal and perfidious bark, 
 Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, 
 That sank so low that sacred head of thine. 
 
 Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow 
 His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, 
 Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 
 Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with wo. 
 Ah I who hath reft (quoth he) my dearest pledge ?^ 
 Last came, and last did go, 
 The pilot of the Galilean lake ; 
 Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, 
 (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain,) 
 He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake ; 
 How well could I have spar'd for thee, young swain, 
 Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake 
 >eep, and intrude, and climb into the fold ? 
 Of other care they little reck'ning make. 
 Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, 
 And shove away the worthy bidden guest ; 
 Blind mouths I that scarce themselves know how to 
 
 hold 
 A sheep-hook, or have learn 'd aught else the least 
 Q* 
 
186 POEMSi 
 
 That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs J 
 
 What recks it them ? What need they ? They are 
 
 And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs 
 Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw > 
 The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, 
 But, swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw, 
 Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : 
 Besides what the grim wolf with privy paW 
 Daily devours apace, and nothing said : 
 But that two handed engine at the door 
 Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. 
 
 Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past, 
 That shrunk thy streams ; return, Sicilian Muse, 
 And call the vales, and bid them hither cast 
 Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. 
 Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use 
 Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, 
 Orl whose fresh lap the swart-star sparely looks. 
 Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes, 
 That on the green-turf suck the honied showers, 
 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
 Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies. 
 The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine. 
 The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, 
 The glowing violet. 
 
 The musk-rose, and the well attir'd woodbine, 
 With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head. 
 And every flower that sad embroidery wears : 
 Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed. 
 And daflbdillies fill their cups with tears, 
 *ro strew the Laureate hearse where Lyciad lies. 
 For, so to interpose a little ease, 
 Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. 
 Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas 
 Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd, 
 Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, 
 Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide 
 Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world , 
 
POEMS. 187 
 
 Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied, 
 Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old, 
 Wliere the great Vision of the guarded Mount, 
 Looks tow'rd Namancos and Bayona's hold ; 
 Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth ; 
 And, O ye dolphins, Avaft the hapless youth. 
 
 Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no more, 
 For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, 
 Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor ; 
 So sink:s the day-star in the ocean bed. 
 And yet anon repairs his drooping head. 
 And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore 
 Flames in the forehead of the morning sky ; 
 So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, 
 Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves 
 Where other groves and other streams along, 
 With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 
 And hears th' unexpressive nuptial song, 
 In the bless'd kingdoms meek of joy and love. 
 There entertain him all the saints above, 
 In solemn troops, and sweet societies, 
 That, singing, in their glory move. 
 And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. 
 Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more ; 
 Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore, 
 In thy large recompense, and shalt be good 
 To all that wander in that perilous flood. 
 
 Thus sang tho uncouth swain to the oaks and rills, 
 While the still morn went out with sandals gray, 
 He touch'd the tender stops of various quills. 
 With eager thought warbling his Doric lay : 
 And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills. 
 And now was dropp'd into the western bay ; 
 At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue : 
 *ro-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new. 
 
188 POEMS. 
 
 ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE 
 UNDER THE LONG PARLIAMENT.^ 
 
 Because you have thrown off your Prelate-Lord, 
 
 And with stiff vow renounc'd his Liturgy, 
 To seize the widow 'd whore Plurality 
 From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr'd ; 
 Dare ye for this abjure the civil sword 
 
 To force our consciences that Christ set free 
 And ride us with a classic hierarchy,! 
 Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotherford It 
 Men whose life, learning, faith and pure intent. 
 Would have been held in high esteem with Paul, 
 Must now be named and printed Heretics 
 By shallow Edwards^ and scotch what d'ye call :ll 
 But we do hope to find out all your tricks, 
 Your blots and packing worse than those of Trent 
 That so the parliament 
 May, with their wholesome and preventive shears, 
 Clip your phylacteries, though balk your ears, 
 And succour our just fears, 
 When they shall read this clearly in your charge, 
 New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large. 
 
 * This poem is supposed to have been made when the Direct- 
 ory was established, and disputes ran high between the Presby- 
 terians and Independents in 1G45, the latter pleading for a tolera- 
 tion, and the tormer against it. 
 
 t In the Presbyterian form of government there are congrega- 
 tional, classical, provincial, and national assemblies. 
 
 t It is not known who is meant by A. S. Mr. Samuel Rother- 
 ford was Professor of Divinity at St. Andrew's, and one of the 
 Scotch commissioners to the Westminister assembly. 
 
 § Mr. Thomas Edwards, author of the Gangrcena. 
 
 II Either Mr. Alexander Henderson or Mr. George Gillespie^ 
 both commissioners to the Westminister assembly. 
 
POEMS. 189 
 
 THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE, Lib. I. 
 
 Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa, rendered almost 
 word for word without rhyme, according- to th 
 Latin measure, as near as the language will permit 
 
 What slender youth, bedew'd with liquid odours, 
 Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave, 
 
 Pyrrha ? for whom bind'st thou 
 
 In wreaths thy golden hair. 
 
 Plain in thy neatness ? O, how oft shall he 
 On faith and changed gods complain, and seas 
 
 Rough -^vith black winds, and storms 
 
 Unwonted shall admire ! 
 
 Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold. 
 Who always vacant, always amiable 
 
 Hopes thee, of flattering gales 
 
 Unmindful. Hapless they 
 
 To whom thou untried seem'st fair ! Me, in my 
 
 vow'd 
 Picture, the sacred wall declares to have hung 
 
 My dank and dropping weeds 
 
 To the stern god of sea. 
 
SONNETS 
 
 TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray 
 Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still ; 
 Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, 
 While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. 
 
 Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, 
 First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, 
 Portend success in love ; O, if Jove's will 
 Have link'd that amorous power to thy soft lay, 
 
 Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate 
 
 Foretel my hopeless doom, in some grove nigh ; 
 As thou, from year to year, hast sung too late 
 
 For my relief, yet hadst no reason why : 
 
 Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his mate, 
 
 Both them I serve^ and of their train am I 
 
 ON HIS BEING ARRIVED TO THE AGE 
 OF TWENTY-THREE. 
 
 How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, 
 Stol'n on his wing my three-and -twentieth year! 
 My hasting days fly on with full career. 
 But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th. 
 
 Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, 
 That I to manhood am arriv'd so near ; 
 
 And inward ripeness doth much less appear 
 
 That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th. 
 
192 SONNETS. 
 
 Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, 
 It shall be still in strictest measure even 
 To that same lot, however mean or high. 
 
 Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Hea« 
 ven; 
 
 All is, if I have grace to use it so. 
 
 As ever in my great Task-Master's eye. 
 
 WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED 
 TO THE CITY,=^ 
 
 Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in arms 
 
 Whose chance on these defenceless door may 
 seize. 
 
 If deed of honour did thee ever please, 
 Guard them, and him within protect from harms : 
 He can requite thee ; for he knows the charms 
 
 That call Fame on such gentle acts as these, 
 
 And he can spread thy name o'er land and seas, 
 What ever clime the sun's bright circle warms. 
 Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower : 
 
 The great Emathian conquerer bid spare 
 The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower 
 
 Went to the ground ; and the repeated air 
 Of sad Electra's poet had the power 
 
 To save th' Athenian walls from ruin bare. 
 
 TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY. 
 
 Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth 
 Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the green, 
 
 ♦ In the manuscript after the title, is added 1642. It was in 
 November of that year that the King marched with his army as 
 neaf Its Brentford, and put the city in great consternation. 
 
SONNETS. 
 
 i9d 
 
 And with those few art eminently seen, 
 
 That labour up the hill of heavenly truth ; 
 
 The better part with Mary and with Ruth 
 Chosen thou hast ; and they that overween, 
 And at thy gi'owing virtues fret their spleen, 
 No anger find in thee but pity and ruth. 
 
 Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends 
 
 To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light. 
 And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure 
 
 Thou, when the Bridegroom, with his feastful friends 
 Passes to bliss, at the mid hour of night. 
 Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure. 
 
 TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY.* 
 
 Daughter to that good Earl, once President 
 Of England's Council, and her Treasury, 
 Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee. 
 And left them both, more m himself content. 
 
 Till the sad breaking of that Parliament 
 Broke him, as that dishonest victory 
 At Chaeronea fatal to liberty, 
 Kill'd with report that old man eloquent. 
 
 Though later born than to have known the days 
 
 * We have given the title which is in Milton's Manuscript, Tb 
 the Lady Margaret Ley. She was the daughter of Sir James 
 Ley, whose singular learning and abilities raised him through all 
 the great posts of the law, till he came to be made Earl of Marlbo- 
 rough, and Lord High Treasurer, and Lord President of the 
 Council to King James I. He died in an advanced age, and Mil- 
 ton attributes his death to the breaking of the parliament ; and it 
 is true that the parhament was dissolved the 10th of March, 
 1628-9, and he died on the 14th ofthe same month. He left several 
 sons and daughters ; and the Lady Margaret was married to Cap- 
 tain Hobson, of the Isle of Wight. It appears from the accounts 
 of Milton's life, that in the year 1643 he used frequently to visit 
 this lady and her husband, and about that time we may suppose 
 this sonnet was composed. 
 
 R 
 
194 SONNETS. 
 
 Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you, 
 Madam, methinks I see him living yet ; 
 So well your words his noble virtues praise, 
 That all both judge you to relate them true, 
 And to possess them, honour'd Margaret. 
 
 On the Detraction which followed upon the writing 
 certain Treaties.* 
 
 A BOOK was writ of late calPd Tetrachordon, 
 And woven 3lose, both matter, form, and style ; 
 The subject new : it walk'd the town awhile, 
 Numb'ring good intellects ; now seldom por'd on. 
 
 Cries the stall reader. Bless us ! what a word on 
 A title page is this ! and some in file 
 Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile- 
 End Green. Why is it harder, Sirs, than Gordon, 
 
 Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp ?t 
 
 Those rugged names to our like mouths grow 
 
 sleek, 
 That would have made Quintillian stare and gasp ; 
 
 Thy age, like ours O soul of Sir John Cheek,:^ 
 
 ♦ When Milton published his book of Divorce, he was greatly 
 condemned by the Presbyterian ministers, whose advocate and 
 champion he had been before. He published his Tetrachordon, 
 at Expositions upon the four chief places in Scripture, which treat 
 of marriage, or nullities in marriage, in 1645. 
 
 t " We may suppose, (says Dr. Newton,) that these were per 
 sons of note and eminence among the Scotch ministers who were 
 for pressing and enforcing the covenant." Mr. George Gillespie, 
 lere wrongously named Galasp^ was one of the Scotch commis- 
 ioners to the Westminister assembly. But who the* other persons 
 were is not known. It appears from this sonnet, and the verses 
 tita the forcers of conscience^ that Milton treats the Presbyterians 
 with great contempt. 
 
 t This Gentleman was the first Professor of the Greek tongue 
 in the university of Cambridge, and was highly instrumental in 
 bringing that language into repute. He was afterwards made one 
 of the tutors to Edward VI. 
 
SONNETS. 195 
 
 Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, 
 When thou taught'st Cambridge, and king Ed- 
 ward, Greek. 
 
 ON THE SAME. 
 
 I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs 
 By the known rules of ancient liberty. 
 When straight a barbarous noise environs me 
 Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs : 
 
 As when those hinds that were transform'd to frog^ 
 Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny, 
 Which after held the sun and moon in fee. 
 But this is got by casting pearl to hogs ; 
 
 That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood. 
 And still revolt when truth would set them free 
 License they mean when they cry Liberty ; 
 
 For who loves that, must first be wise and good : 
 But from that mark how far they rove we see, 
 For all this waste of weahh, and loss of blood. 
 
 TO MR. H. LA WES, ON HIS AIRS, 1645.* 
 
 Harry, whose tuneful and well-measur'd song 
 First taught our English music how to span 
 Words with just note and accent not to scan 
 With Midas' ears, committing short and long ; 
 
 Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, 
 With praise enough for Envy to look wan ; 
 To after age thou shalt be writ the man, 
 That with smooth air could humour best our tongue. 
 
 Thou honour'st verse, and verse must lend her wing 
 
 ♦ This Mr, Henry Lawes was a gentleman of the king's chapel, 
 end one of his band of music, and an intimate friend of Miltoij, 
 
196 SONNETS. 
 
 To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' choir, 
 That tun'st their happiest lines in hymn, or story. 
 Dante shall give fame leave to set thee higher 
 Than his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing, 
 Met in the milder shades of Purgatory. 
 
 On the religious memory of Mrs. Catharine Thomson, 
 my Christian Friend, deceased IQtJi of December^ 
 1646.* 
 
 When faith and love, which parted from thee never, 
 Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God, 
 Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load 
 Of death, call'd life ; which us from life doth sever. 
 
 Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour, 
 Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod : 
 But, as Faith pointed with her golden rod, 
 Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever. 
 
 Love led them on, and faith who knew them best 
 Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple 
 
 beams 
 And azure wings, that up they flew so dress'd 
 
 And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes 
 Before the Judge : who thenceforth bid thee rest, 
 And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams. 
 
 TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX.! 
 
 Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings 
 Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, 
 
 ♦ "Who this Mrs. Thomson was, (says Dr. Newton,) we can 
 not be certain ; but I find in the accounts of Milton's life, that 
 when he was first made Latin Secretary, he lodged at one Tbom- 
 eon's, next door to the Bull-head tavern at Charing-cross. This 
 Mrs. Thomson, therefore, was, in all probability, one of that 
 family." 
 
 t This sonnet appears, from the manuscript, to have been ad 
 
SONNETS. 
 
 197 
 
 And all her jealous monarchs with amaze 
 And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings ; 
 
 Thy firm, unshaken virtue, ever brings 
 Victory home, though new rebellions raise 
 Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays 
 Her broken league, to imp their Serpent wings. 
 
 O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand, 
 
 (For what can war but endless war still breed ?) 
 Till truth and right from violence be freed. 
 
 And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand 
 Of public fraud. In vain doth valour bleed, 
 While Avarice and Rapine share the land. 
 
 TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL.=* 
 
 Cromwell, our chief of men who through a cloud 
 Not of war only, but detractions rude, 
 Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, 
 To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploujt^^V 
 
 And on the neck of crown'd fortune proud 
 
 Hast rear'd God's trophies, and his works puisuea, 
 While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots im* 
 
 brued. 
 And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud. 
 
 And Worcester's laureate wreath. Yet much remaina 
 To conquer still ; Peace hath her victories 
 No less renown'd than War : new foes arise 
 
 Threat'ning to bind our souls with secular chains : 
 Help us to save free conscience from the pa\\ 
 Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their maw. 
 
 sed to Gen. Fairfax at the seige of Colchester, which was cap- 
 on in the summer of 1648. 
 
 In the Author's manuscript is this incription : To the Lord 
 eral Cromwell, May 1652. On the proposals of certain 
 ifitert at the committee for propagation of the GospeL 
 
 R* 
 
198 SONNETS. 
 
 TO SIR HENRY VANE THE YOUNGER 
 
 Vane, young in years, but in sage counsel old, 
 Than whom a better Senator ne'er held 
 The helm of Rome, when gowns, not arms, repell'd 
 The fierce Epirot, and th' African bold, 
 
 Whether to settle peace, or to unfold 
 
 The drift of tiollow states hard to be spell'd : 
 Then to advise how War may, best upheld, 
 Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold, 
 
 In all her equipage ; besides to know 
 
 Both spiritual power and civi], what each means, 
 What severs each, thou hast learn'd which few 
 have done : 
 
 The bounds of either sword to thee we owe ; 
 Therefore on thy firm hand religion leans 
 In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son. 
 
 ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN 
 PIEDMONT. =^ 
 
 Avenge, O Lord thy slaughter'd saints, whose 
 bones 
 
 * This persecution of the Protestants in Peidmont broke out 
 in 1655. In May, that year, Cromwell wrote several letters to 
 the Duke of Savoy, and other potentates and states complaining 
 of that persecution. Echard tells us, that he proclaimed a fast, 
 and caused large contributions to be gathered for them in Eng- 
 land ; that he sent his agents to the Duke of Savoy, a prince with 
 whom he had no correspondence or commerce, and the next year, 
 so engaged Cardinal Mazarine, and even terrified the Pope him- 
 self, without so much as doing any favour to the English Roman 
 Catholics, that the Duke thought it necessary to restore all that he 
 had taken from them, and renewed all those privileges they had 
 formerly enjoyed. •' So great (adds Echard) was the terror of 
 his name ; nothing being more usual than his saying, that his 
 ships in the Medditerranean should visit Civita Veccma, and the 
 sound of his cannon should be heard in Rome." 
 
SONNETS. 199 
 
 Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold 
 Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old, 
 When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones, 
 
 Forg:et not in thy book : record their groans 
 Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient folds 
 Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that roll'd 
 Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans 
 
 The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
 
 To Heaven. Their martyr 'd blood and ashes sow 
 O'er all th' Italian fields, where still doth sway 
 
 The triple Tyrani : that from these may grow 
 A hundred fold, who having learn'd thy way, 
 Early may fly the Babylonian wo. 
 
 ON HIS BLINDNESS. 
 
 When I consider how my light is spent 
 Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, 
 And that one talent which is death to hide, 
 Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent 
 
 To serve therewith my Maker, and present 
 My true account, lest he, returning, chide ; 
 Doth God exact day-labour, light denied ? 
 I fondly ask : but Patience, to prevent 
 
 That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need 
 Either man's work, or his own gifts ; who best 
 Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best; his state 
 
 Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed, 
 And post o'er land and ocean without rest; 
 They also serve who only stand and wait. 
 
200 SONNETS. 
 
 TO MR. LAWRENCE.* 
 
 Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, 
 
 Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, 
 Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire 
 Help waste a sullen day, what may be won 
 
 From the hard season gaining ? time will run 
 On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire 
 The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire 
 The lily and rose, that neither sow'd nor spun. 
 
 What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice* 
 Of Attic taste, with wine whence we may rise 
 To hear the lute well touch 'd, or artful voice, 
 
 Warble immortal notes, and Tuscan air ? 
 
 He who of those delights can judge, and spare 
 To interpose them oft, is not unwise. 
 
 TO CYRIAC SKINNER. t 
 
 Cy.riac, whose grandsire, on the royal bench 
 Of British Themis, with no mean applause 
 Pronounc'd, and in his volumes taught, our laws, 
 Which others at their bar so often wrench ; 
 
 To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench 
 In mirth, that after, no repenting draws ; 
 Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause. 
 And what the Swede intends, and what the French : 
 
 To measure life learn thou betimes, and know 
 
 * This Mr. Lawrence was the Son of the President of Crom- 
 
 ell's council. 
 
 t Cyriac Skinner was the son of William Skinner, Esqr,, and 
 grandson of Sir Vincent Skinner, and his mother was daughter 
 of the famous Lord Chief Justice Coke. Mr. Wood relates that 
 he was one of Harrington's political club, and sometimes held 
 the chair ; and further adds, that he was a merchant's son of 
 London, an ingenious young gentleman, and scholar to John 
 Mkou.' 
 
SONNETS. 201 
 
 Toward solid good what leads the neaiest way ; 
 For other things mild Heaven a time ordains, 
 And disapproves that care, though wise in show, 
 That with superfluous burden loads the day, 
 And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains. 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 
 Cyriac, this three-years-day these eyes, though clear. 
 To outward view, of blemish or of spot. 
 Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; 
 Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear 
 
 Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, 
 Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not 
 Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot 
 Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer 
 
 Right onward. What supports me dost thou ask ? 
 The conscience, Friend, to have lost them over plied 
 In liberty's defence, my noble task, 
 
 Of which all Europe talks from side to side. 
 
 This thought might lead me through the world's 
 vain mask 
 
 Content, though blind, had I no better guide. 
 
 ONHIS DECEASED WIFE.* 
 
 Methought I saw my late espous'd saint 
 Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, 
 Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, 
 Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint 
 
 * This was his second wife, Catharine, the daughter of Captain 
 Woodcock of Hackney, who lives! with him not above a year after 
 their marriage, and died in child-bed of a daughter. 
 
202 SONNETS. 
 
 Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint. 
 Purification in th' old Law did save, 
 And such, as yet once more I trust to have 
 Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, 
 
 Came vested all in white, pure as her mind : 
 Her face was veil'd ; yet, to my fancied sight, 
 Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd 
 
 So clear, as in no face with more delight : 
 But O ! as to embrace me she inclin'd, 
 I wak'd; she fled ; and day brought back my night. 
 
PSALMS 
 
 PSALM I. 
 
 [Don?intQ verse, 1653.] 
 
 Bless*d is the man who hath not walk'd astray 
 In counsel of the wicked, and i' th' way 
 Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat 
 Of scorners hath not sat : but in the great 
 Jehovah's law is ever his delight, 
 And in his law he studies, day and night.. 
 He shall be as a tree which planted grows 
 By wat'ry streams, and in his season knows 
 To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall, 
 And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 
 Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd 
 The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand 
 In judgment, or abide their trial then. 
 Nor sinners in th' assembly of just men. 
 For the Lord knows the upright way of the just, 
 And the way of bad men to ruin must. 
 
 PSALMII. 
 
 [Done August 8, 1653.] 
 
 Terzette. 
 
 Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations 
 
 Muse a vain thing, the kings of th' earth upStand 
 With power, and princes in their congregations 
 
204 PSALMS. 
 
 Lay deep their plots together through each land 
 
 Against the Lord and his Messiah dear ? 
 
 Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand 
 Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear. 
 
 Their twisted cords : He, who in heaven doth 
 dwell, 
 
 Shall laugh ; the Lord shall scoff them : then severe 
 Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 
 
 And fierce ire trouble them ; but I, saith he, 
 
 Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) 
 On Sion my holy hill. A firm decree 
 
 I will declare ; the Lord to me hath said^ 
 
 Thou art my son, I have begotten thee 
 This day ; ask of me, and the grant is made ; 
 
 As thy possession I on thee bestow 
 
 The Heathen ; and as thy conquest to be sway'd, 
 Earth's utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full 
 low 
 
 With iron sceptre bruis'd, and them disperse 
 
 Like to a potter's vessel shiver'd so. 
 And now be wise at length, ye kings averse, 
 
 Be taught, ye judges of the earth ; with fear 
 
 Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse 
 With trembling ; kiss the Son lest he appear 
 
 In anger, and ye perish in the way, 
 
 If once his wrath take fire, like fuel sere. 
 Happy all those who have in him their stay. 
 
 PSALM IIL 
 
 [August 9, 1653.] 
 
 When he jled from Absalom, 
 
 Lord, how many are my foes ! 
 How many those, 
 That in arms against me rise ! 
 Many are they, 
 
PSALMS. 205 
 
 That of my life distrustfully thus say ; 
 No help for him in God there lies. 
 But thou, Lord, art my shield, my glory, 
 Thee, through my story, 
 Th' exalter of my head I count ; 
 
 Aloud I cried 
 Unto Jehovah, he full soon replied, 
 And heard me from his holy mount. 
 I lay and slept ; I wak'd again ; 
 For my sustain 
 Was the Lord. Of many millions 
 
 The populous rout 
 I fear not, though encamping round about, 
 They pitch against me their pavilions. 
 Rise, Lord ; save me, my God ; for thou 
 
 Hast smote, ere now, 
 On the cheek-bone, all my foes ; 
 Of men abhorr'd 
 Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the 
 Lord; 
 Thy blessing on thy people flows. 
 
 PSALM IV. 
 [August 10, 1653.] 
 
 Answer me when I call, 
 God of my rightousness ; 
 In straits, and in distress. 
 Thou didst me disenthral 
 And set at large ; now spare, 
 
 Now pity me, and hear my earnest prayer. 
 Great ones, how long will ye 
 My glory have in scorn ? 
 How long be thus forborn 
 Still to love vanity ? 
 To love, to seek, to prize 
 
 Things false and vain, and nothing else but lies ? 
 Yet know the Lorihath choee, 
 S 
 
206 PSALMS. 
 
 Chose to himself apart, 
 The good and meek of heart ; 
 (For whom to choose he knows,) 
 Jehovah from on high 
 
 Will hear my voice, what time to him I cry. 
 Be awed, and do not sin ; 
 Speak to your hearts alone 
 Upon your heds, each one, 
 And be at peace within : 
 Offer the offerings just 
 
 Of righteousness, and in Jehovah trust. 
 Many there be that say, 
 Who yet will show us good ? 
 Talking like this world's brood : 
 But, Lord, thus let me pray ; 
 On us lift up the light, 
 
 Lift up the favour of thy count'nance bright. 
 Into my heart more joy 
 And gladness thou hast put 
 Than when a year of glut 
 Their stores doth over cloy, 
 And from their plenteous grounds 
 
 With vast increase their corn and wine abounds. 
 In peace at once will I 
 Both lay me down and sleep ; 
 For thou alone dost keep 
 Me safe where'er I lie. 
 As in a rocky cell 
 
 Thou, Lord alone, in safety mak'st me dwell. 
 
 PSALM V. 
 
 [August 12, 1653] 
 
 Jehovah ! to my words give ear, 
 My meditation weigh ; 
 
 The voice of my complaining hear, 
 My King and God ; for unto thee I pray 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 207 
 
 Jehovah ! thou my early voice 
 Shalt in the morning hear ; 
 r th' morning I to thee with choice 
 Will rank my prayers, and watch till thou appear. 
 For thou art not a God that takes 
 
 In wickedness delight ; 
 Evil with thee no biding makes ; 
 Fools or mad-men stand not within thy sight. 
 All workers of iniquity 
 
 Thou hat'st : and them unbless'd 
 Thou wilt destroy that speak a lie ; 
 The bloody and guileful man God doth detest ; 
 But I will, in thy mercies dear, 
 
 Thy numerous mercies, go 
 Into thy house ; I, in thy fear, 
 Will tow'rd thy holy temple worship low. 
 Lord ! lead me in thy righteousness, 
 
 Lead me, because of those 
 That do observe if I transgress ; 
 Set thy ways right before, where my step goes. 
 For, in his faltering mouth unstable, 
 
 No word is firm or sooth : 
 Their inside, troubles miserable ; 
 An open grave their throat, their tongue they smooth, 
 God ! find them guilty, let them fall 
 
 By their own counsels quell'd ; 
 Push them in their rebellions all 
 Still on ; for against thee they have rebelPd. 
 Then all, who trust in thee, shall bring 
 
 Their joy ; while thou from blame 
 Defend'st them, they shall ever sing 
 And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name : 
 For thou, Jehovah ! wilt be found 
 
 To bless the just man still; 
 As with a shield, thou wilt surround 
 Him with thy lasting favour and good will. 
 
208 PSALMS. 
 
 P S A L M V I 
 
 [August 13, 1653. j 
 
 Lord, in thine anger do not reprehend me 
 Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct ; 
 Pity me, Lord, for I am much deject, 
 
 And very weak and faint ; heal and amend me ; 
 
 For all my bones, that e'en with anguish ake. 
 Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore. 
 And thou, O Lord! how long? Turn, Lord 
 restore 
 
 My soul ; O save me for thy goodness' sake ! 
 
 For in death no remembrance is of thee ; 
 Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise ? 
 Wearied I am with sighing out my days ; 
 
 Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea ; 
 
 My bed I water with my tears ; mine eye 
 
 Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark 
 I' th' midst of all mine enemies that mark. 
 
 Depart all ye that work iniquity, 
 
 Depart from me ; for the voice of my weeping 
 
 The Lord hath heard ; the Lord hath heard my 
 prayer. 
 
 My supplication with acceptance fair 
 
 The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 
 
 Mine enemies shall all be blank, and dash'd 
 
 With much confusion ; then, grown red with shame, 
 They shall return in haste the way they came, 
 
 And in a moment shall be quite abash'd. 
 
PSALMS 209 
 
 PSALM VII. 
 
 [August 14, 1653.] 
 
 Upon the words of Chush the Benjamite against him 
 
 Lord, my God to thee I fly ; 
 Save m€, and secure me under 
 Thy protection, while I cry ; 
 Lest, as a lion, (and no wonder,) 
 He haste to tear my soul asunder, 
 Tearing, and no rescue nigh. 
 
 Lord my God , if I have thought 
 Or done this ; if wickedness 
 Be in my hands ; if I have wrought 
 111 to him that meant me peace ; 
 Or to him have render'd less, 
 V And not freed my foe for naught ; 
 
 Let th' enemy pursue my soul 
 And overtake it, let him tread 
 My life down to the earth, and roll 
 In the dust my glory dead. 
 In the dust ; and, there outspread, 
 Lodge it with dishonour foul. 
 
 Rise, Jehovah ! in thine ire. 
 Rouse thyself amidst the rage 
 Of my foes that urge like fire ; 
 And wake for me, their fury assuage ; 
 Judgment here thou didst engage 
 And command, which I desire. 
 
 So th' assemblies of each nation 
 Will surround thee, seeking right ; 
 Thence to thy glorious habitation 
 Return on high, and in their sight. 
 S* 
 
210 PSALMS. 
 
 Jehovah judgeth most upright 
 
 All people from the world's foundation. 
 
 Judge me, Lord; be judge in this 
 According to my righteousness, 
 And the innocence which is 
 Upon me ; cause at length to cease 
 Of evil men the wickedness. 
 And their power that do amiss. 
 
 But the just establish fast, 
 
 Since thou art the just God that tries 
 
 Hearts and reins. On God is cast 
 
 My defence, and in him lies : 
 
 In him who both just and wise, 
 
 Saves the upright of heart at last. 
 
 God is a just judge and severe, 
 
 And God is every day offended ; 
 
 If the unjust will not forbear, 
 
 His sword he whets, his bow hath bended 
 
 Already, and for him intended 
 
 The tools of death, that wait him near. 
 
 (His arrows purposely made he 
 For them that prosecute :) Behold, 
 He travels big with vanity ; 
 Trouble he hath conceiv'd of old, 
 As in a womb ; and from that mould 
 Hath at length brought forth a lie. 
 
 He digged a pit and delv'd it deep, 
 
 And fell into the pit he made ; 
 
 His mischief, that due course doth keejk. 
 
 Turns on his head, and his ill trade 
 
 Of violence will, undelay'd, 
 
 Fall on his crown with ruin steep. 
 
 Then will I Jehovah's praise 
 According to his justice raise, 
 
PSALMS 211 
 
 And sing the name and Deity . 
 Of Jehovah the Most High I 
 
 PSALM VIII. 
 [August 14, 1653.] 
 
 O Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 
 
 And glorious is thy Name through all the earth ! 
 
 So as above the heavens thy praise to set 
 Out of the tender mouths of latest birth. 
 
 Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings, thou 
 Hast founded strength, because of all thy foes, 
 
 To stint the enemy, and slack th' avenger's brow, 
 That bends his rage thy providence to oppose. 
 
 When I behold thy heavens, thy fingers' art, 
 The moon, and stars, which thou so bright hast 
 set 
 
 In the pure firmanent, then saith my heart, 
 O, what is man that thou rememb'rest yet, 
 
 And think'st upon him; or of man begot, 
 That him thou visit'st, and of him art found ? 
 
 Scarce to be less than gods, thou mad'st his lot. 
 With honour and with state thou hast him crown'd. 
 
 O'er the works of thy hand thou mad'st him Lord, 
 Thou hast put all under his lordly feet ; 
 
 All flocks, and herds, by thy commanding word, 
 All beasts that in the field or forest meet, 
 
 owl of the heavens, and fish that through the wet 
 Sea-paths in shoals do slide, and know no dearth : 
 O Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 
 
 And glorious is thy Name through all the earth ! 
 
212 PSALMS. 
 
 PSALM LXXX. 
 
 [AprU, 1648. J. M.] 
 
 Nine of the Psalms done into metre, wherein all but 
 what is distinguished by inverted commas, are the 
 very words of the text translated from the original 
 
 Thou, Shepherd, that doth Israel * keep' 
 
 Give ear ' in time of need ;' 
 Who leadest like a flock of sheep 
 
 ' Thy loved' Joseph's seed ; 
 
 That sitt'st between the Cherubs ' bright,' 
 
 ' Between their wings outspread;' 
 Shine forth ' and from their cloud give light,' 
 
 'And on our foes thy dread.' 
 
 In Ephraim's view and Bejamin's, 
 
 And in Manasse's sight, 
 Awake =^ thy strength, come, and ' be seen* 
 
 * To' save us ' by thy might.' 
 
 Turn us, again ; ' thy grace divine' 
 
 ' To us,' O God ' vouchsafe ;' 
 Cause thou thy f^ce on us to shine, 
 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 Lord God of Hosts ! how long wilt thou, 
 
 How long wilt thou declare 
 Thy t-smoking wrath, ' and angry broW' 
 
 Against thy people's prayer ! 
 
 Thou feed'st them with the bread of tears ; 
 
 Their bread with tears they eat ; 
 And mak'st them X largely drink the tears 
 
 * Wherewith their cheeks are wet.' 
 
 * Gjiorera. t Gnashanta. t Shalish. 
 
vsAJLm. 213 
 
 A strife thou mak'st us * and a prey* 
 
 To every neighbour foe ; 
 Among themselves they ^ laugh, they play, * 
 
 And ^flouts at us they throw. . 
 
 Return us, ' and thy grace divine,' 
 
 O God of Hosts ! ' vouchsafe ;' 
 Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 A vine from Egypt thou hast brought, 
 
 'Thy free love made it fhine,' 
 And drov'st out nations ' proud and haught,* 
 
 To plant this ' lovely' vine. 
 
 Thou didst prepare for it a place, 
 
 And root it deep and fast, 
 That it 'began to grow apace,' 
 
 'And' fiU'd the land 'at last.' 
 
 With her 'green' shade that cover'd 'all,* 
 
 The hills were ' overspread ;' 
 Her boughs as 'high as' cedars tall 
 
 * Advanc'd their lofty head. 
 
 Her branches ' on the western side' 
 
 Down to the sea she sent, 
 And ' upward' to that river ' wide' 
 
 Her other branches * went.' 
 
 Why hast thou laid her hedges low, 
 
 And broken down her fence, 
 That all may pluck her, as they go, 
 
 * With rudest violence V 
 
 The ' tusked' boar, out oi the wood, 
 Up turns it by the roots ; 
 
 * Jilgnagu. 
 
214 PSALMS. 
 
 Wild beasts there browse, and make their food 
 *Her grapes and tender shoots.' 
 
 Return now, God of Hosts ! look down 
 
 From heaven, thy seat divine ; 
 Behold * us, but without a fro^vn,' 
 
 And visit this ' thy' vine. 
 
 Visit this vine, which thy right hand 
 
 Hath set, and planted * long,' 
 And the young branch, that for thyself 
 
 Thou hast made firm and strong. 
 
 But ndw it is consum'd with fire, 
 
 And cut ' with axes' down ; 
 They perish at thy dreadful ire 
 
 At thy rebuke and frown. 
 
 "Upon the man of thy right hand 
 
 Let thy ' good' hand be * laid ;' 
 Upon the son of man, whom thou 
 
 Strong for thyself hast made. 
 
 So shall we not go back from thee 
 
 * To ways of sin and shame ;' 
 Quicken us thou ; then ' gladly' we 
 
 Shall call upon thy name. 
 
 Return us, ' and thy grace divine,* 
 Lord God of Hosts ! ' vouchsafe ;* 
 
 Cause thou thy face on us to shine ; 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 PSALM LXXXL 
 
 To God our strength sing loud ' and clear,* 
 
 Sing loud to God * our King ;' 
 To Jacob's God ' that all may hear,' 
 
 Loud acclamations ring. 
 
PSAiMS. 215 
 
 Prepare a hymn, prepare a song, 
 
 The timbrel hither bring 
 The * cheerful' psaltery bring along, 
 
 And harp * with' pleasant ' string. * 
 
 Blow, * as is wont,' in the new moon 
 
 With trumpets' ' lofty sound,' 
 Th' appointed time, the day whereon 
 
 Our solemn feast ' comes round.' 
 
 This was a statute * given of old,' 
 
 For Israel ' to observe;' 
 A law of Jacob's God, ' to hold,' 
 
 * From whence they might not swerve. 
 
 This he a testimony ordain'd 
 
 In Joseph, * not to change ;' 
 When as he pass'd through Egypt land 
 
 The tongue I heard was strange. 
 
 From burden, ' and from slavish toil,' 
 
 I set his shoulder free : 
 His hands from pots, ' and miry soil,' 
 
 Deliver'd were ' by me.' 
 
 When trouble did thee sore assail, 
 
 ' On me then' didst thou call ; 
 And I to free thee ' did not fail,' 
 
 And led thee out of thrall.' 
 
 I answer'd thee in ^ thunder deep 
 
 With clouds encompass'd round, 
 I tried thee at the water ' steep' 
 
 Of Meriba ' renown'd.' 
 
 Hear, O my people, * hearken well,* 
 I testify to thee, 
 
 ♦ Be Sether ragnam. 
 
210 PSALMS. 
 
 •^Thou ancient stock of Israel 
 If thou wilt list to me, 
 
 Throughout the land of thy abode 
 
 No alien God shall be, 
 Nor shalt thou to a foreign god 
 
 In honour bend thy knee. 
 
 I am the Lord thy God, which brought 
 
 Thee out of Egypt land ; 
 Ask large enough, and I, ' besought,' 
 
 "Will grant thy full demand. 
 
 And yet my people would not * hear,' 
 
 * Nor' hearken to my voice ; 
 And Israel, ' whom I lov'd so dear,' 
 
 Mislik'd me for his choice. 
 
 Then did I leave them to their will, 
 And to their wand'ring mind ; 
 
 Their own conceits they follow'd still, 
 Their own devices blind. 
 
 O that my people would ' be wise,* 
 
 *To' serve me * all their days !' 
 And O, that Israel would ' advise' 
 
 * To' walk my * righteous' ways ! 
 
 Then would I scyon bring down their foes, 
 
 * That now so proudly rise ;' 
 
 And turn my hand against * all those' 
 ' That are' their enemies. 
 
 Who hate the Lord should ' then be fain* 
 
 ' To' bow to him and bend ; 
 But * they, his people, should remain,' 
 
 Their time should have no end. 
 
 And he would feed them * from the shock* 
 With flower of finest wheat, 
 
PSALMS. 217 
 
 And satisfy them from the rock, 
 With honey * for their meat.* 
 
 PSALM LXXXII. 
 
 God in the * gieat^ assembly stands 
 
 * Of kings and lordly states ;' 
 Among! tiie gods,t on both his hands 
 
 He judges and debates. 
 
 How long will ye I peivert the right 
 
 With t judgment lalse and wrong, 
 Favouring the wicked, * by your might,* 
 
 ' Who thence grow bold and strong V 
 
 Regard ^ the weak ^ and fatherless, 
 
 Despatch ^ the poor ^ man s cause, 
 And II raise the man in deep distress 
 
 By II just and equal laws. 
 
 Defend the poor and desolate, 
 
 And rescue from the hands 
 Of wicked men the low estate 
 
 Of him ' that help demands.' 
 
 They know not, nor will unde/t'.fand, 
 
 In darkness they walk on , 
 The earth's foundations all are tf mov'd, 
 
 And IT out of order gone. 
 
 I said that ye were gods ; yea, all 
 
 The sons of God Most High ; 
 But ye shall die like men, and &U 
 
 As other princes die.' 
 
 Rise God ; ^^ judge thou the earth * in might. 
 This ' wicked' * earth redress,' 
 
 Eagnadath-el, tBekerev. t Tlshphetu gnaveL Ughiptu-dal. 
 5 Hatzdiku. T Jimmotu. *♦ Shiphta. 
 
$13 PSALMS. 
 
 For thou art he who shalt by right 
 The nations all possess. 
 
 PSALM LXXXIII. 
 
 Be not thou silent ' now at length,' 
 
 O God ! hold not thy peace ; 
 Sit thou not still O God of ' strength,' 
 
 * We cry, and do not cease.' 
 
 For lo ! thy ' furious' foes * now' ^ swell 
 
 And ^ storm outrageously, 
 And they that hate thee ' proud and fell' 
 
 Exalt their heads full high. 
 
 Against thy people they t contrive 
 
 Their i plots and councils deep ; 
 Them ^ to ensnare they chiefly strive, 
 
 Whom 11 thou dost hide and keep. 
 
 Come, let us cut them oflT, say they, 
 
 Till they no nation be ; 
 That Israel's name for ever may 
 
 Be lost in memory. 
 
 For they consult IT with all their might, 
 
 And all, as one in mind 
 Themselves against thee they unite. 
 
 And in firm union bind ! 
 
 The tents of Edom, and the brood 
 
 Of ' scornful' Ishmael, 
 Moab, with them of Hagar's blood, 
 
 * That in the desert dwell ;' 
 
 Gebal and Ammon * there conspire,' 
 And ''hateful' Amalec, 
 
 • JehemajuB. t Jagnarimu. t Sod. 
 
 f ^hjagnatsu gnal. II T«ephuiieca. IT Lev J«ckdau. 
 
PSALMS. 219 
 
 The Philistines and they of Tyre, 
 
 * Whose bounds the sea doth check ;' 
 
 With them ' great' Ashur also bands, 
 
 'And doth confirm the knot ; 
 *A11 these have lent their armed hands* 
 
 To aid the sons of Lot. 
 
 Do to them as to Midian ' bold,' 
 
 * That wasted all the coast,' 
 To Sisera ; and, as ' is lold,' 
 
 *Thou didst' to Jabin's host.* 
 
 / When at the brook of Kishon * old,* 
 
 * They were repuls'd and slain, 
 At Endor quite cut off, and roll'd 
 
 As dung upon the plain. 
 
 As Zeb and Oreb, evil sped, 
 
 So let their princes speed ; 
 As Zeba, and Zalmunna ' bled,* 
 
 So let their princes • bleed.' 
 
 * For they amidst their pride' have said, 
 
 By right now shall we seize 
 God's houses, * and will now invade* 
 
 Their * stately palaces. 
 
 My God ! oh make them as a wheel, 
 
 * No quiet let them find ;' 
 Giddy and • restless,' let ' them reel' 
 
 Like stubble from the wind. 
 
 As * when' an ' aged' wood takes fire 
 
 ' Which on a sudden strays,' 
 The 'greedy' flame runs higher and higher 
 
 Till all the mountains blaze ; 
 
 ♦ Neoth Elohim bears both. 
 
220 PSALMS. 
 
 So with thy whirlwind them pursue, 
 
 And with thy tempest chase ; 
 And, "^ till they ^ yield thee honour due, 
 
 Lord ! fill with shame their face. 
 
 Asham'd, and troubled let them be. 
 
 Troubled, and sham'd for ever ; 
 Ever confounded, and so die 
 
 With shame, ' and scape it never. 
 
 Then shall they know, that Thou, whose name 
 
 Jehovah is alone, 
 Art the Most High, ' and thou the same' 
 
 O'er all the earth * art One !' 
 
 PSALM LXXXIV. 
 
 How lovely are thy dwellings fair ! 
 
 O Lord of Hosts, how dear 
 The ' pleasant' tabernacles are, 
 
 * Where thou dost dwell so near !' 
 
 My soul doth long and almost die 
 
 Thy courts, O Lord, to see, 
 My heart and flesh aloud do cry, 
 
 O living God ! for thee. 
 
 There e'en the sparrow ' freed from wrong,* 
 
 Hath found a Jiouse of ' rest ;' 
 The swallow there to lay her young 
 
 Hath built her ' brooding' nest ; 
 
 E'en by thy altars, Lord of Hosts, 
 
 * They find their safe abode ;' 
 
 'And home' they fly from round the coasts' 
 Toward thee, * my King, my God ! 
 
 ♦ They ceek thy name. Heh. 
 
PSALMS. 281 
 
 Happy, who in thy house reside, 
 
 Where thee they ever praise ! 
 Happy, whose strength in thee doth 'bide, 
 
 And in their hearts thy ways ! 
 
 They pass through Baca's * thirsty' vale, 
 
 * That dry and barren ground;' 
 As through a fruitful wat'ry dale 
 
 Where springs and showers abound. 
 
 They journey on from strength to strength 
 
 * With joy and gladsome cheei; * 
 'Till all before 'our' God 'at length 
 
 In Sion do appear. 
 
 Lord God of Hosts ! hear * now' my prayer, 
 
 O Jacob's God give ear ; 
 Thou God, our shield, look on the face 
 
 Of thy anointed ' dear.' 
 
 For one day in thy courts * to be* 
 
 Is better, ' and more bless'd,' 
 Than 'in the joys of vanity* 
 
 A thousand days 'at best.* 
 
 I in the temple of my God, 
 
 Had rather keep a door, 
 Than dwell in tents, * and rich abode,* 
 
 With sin, * for evermore.* 
 
 For God the Lord, both sun and shield, 
 
 Gives grace and glory ' bright ;' 
 No good from them shall be withheld 
 
 Whose ways are just and right. 
 
 Lord ' God' of Hosts ! that reign'st on high ;* 
 
 That man is ' truly' bless'd. 
 Who ' only on thee doth rely, 
 
 And in thee only rest. 
 T» 
 
2ii2 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 PSALM LXXXV. 
 
 Thy land to favour graciously 
 Thou hast not, Lord, been slack ; 
 
 Thou hast from * hard' captivity- 
 Returned Jacob back. 
 
 Th' iniquity thou didst forgive 
 
 * That wrought' thy people wo ; 
 And all their sin, * that did thee grieve,' 
 
 Hast hid ' where none shall know.* 
 
 Thine anger all thou hadst remov'd, 
 
 And * calmly' didst return 
 From thy ^ fierce wrath, which we had prov'-' 
 
 Far worse than fire to burn. 
 
 God of our saving health and peace ! 
 
 Turn us, and us restore ; 
 Thine indignation cause to cease 
 
 Toward us, ' and chide no more.' 
 
 Wilt thou be angry without end, 
 
 For ever angry thus ? 
 Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 
 
 From age to age on us ? 
 
 Wilt thou not t turn, and * hear our voice ' 
 
 And us again t revive. 
 That so thy people may rejoice 
 
 By thee preserv'd alive ? 
 
 Cause us to see thy goodness. Lord, 
 
 To us thy mercy show. 
 Thy saving health to us afford, 
 
 * And life in us renew.* 
 
 ♦ Heb. ' The burning heat of thy wrath,' 
 t Heb. ' Turn to quicken us.' 
 
PSALMS. 223 
 
 * And now,' what God the Lord will speak, 
 
 I will ' go straight and' hear. 
 
 For to his people he speaks peace, 
 
 And to his saints ' full dear.' 
 
 To his dear saints he will speak peace ; 
 
 But let them never more 
 Eeturn to folly, * but surcease' 
 
 * To trespass as before.' 
 
 Surely, to such as do him fear 
 
 Salvation is at hand; 
 And glory shall ' ere long appear,' 
 
 * To' dwell within our land. 
 
 Mercy and Truth * that long were miss'd, 
 Now ' joyfully' are met ; 
 
 * Sweet' Peace and Kighteousness have kiss' d, 
 
 * And hand in hand are set.' 
 
 Truth from the earth, * like to a flower,' 
 
 Shall bud and blossom * then ;' 
 And Justice, from her heavenly bower, 
 
 Look down ' on mortal men.' 
 
 The Lord will also then bestow 
 
 Whatever thing is good ; 
 Our land shall forth in plenty throw 
 
 Her fruits ' to be our food.' 
 
 Before him Righteousness shall go, 
 
 * His royal harbinger ;' 
 
 Then ^ will he come, and not be slow; 
 His footsteps cannot err. 
 
 ♦ Heb. ' He will set his steps to the way.* 
 
2M 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVI. 
 
 Thy 'gracious' ear,. O Lord! incline, 
 
 hear me, * I thee pray ;' 
 For I am poor, and almost pine 
 
 With need, ' and sad decay.' 
 
 Preserve my soul ; for I # have trod 
 
 Thy ways, and love the just, 
 Save thou thy servant, O my God ! 
 
 Who ' still' in thee doth trust. 
 
 Pity me, Lord, for daily thee 
 
 1 call; O make rejoice 
 
 Thy servant's soul ; for. Lord to thee 
 I lift my soul ' and voice.' 
 
 For thou art good, thou, Lord ! art prone 
 
 To pardon, thou to all 
 Art full of mercy, thou * alone' 
 
 To them that on thee call. 
 
 Unto my supplication, Lord, 
 
 Give ear, and to the cry 
 Of my ' incessant' prayers affoid 
 
 Thy hearing graciously. 
 
 I, in the day of my distress, 
 
 Will call on thee * for aid ;' 
 For thou wilt * grant' me * free access, 
 
 * And answer * what I pray'd.' 
 
 Like thee among the gods is none, 
 O Lord ; nor any works 
 
 * Of all that other gods have done' 
 
 Like to thy * glorious' works. 
 
 • Beb. • I am good, loving, a doer of good and holy thingi.* 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 The Nations all whom thou hast made 
 Shall come, ' and all shall frame 
 
 To bow them low before thee, Lord, 
 And glorify thy Name. 
 
 For great thou art, and wonders great 
 By thy strong hand are done ; 
 
 Thou ' in thy everlasting seat,' 
 Remainest God alone. 
 
 Teach me, Lord, thy way * most right ;* 
 
 I in thy truth will bide ; 
 To fear thy name my heart unite, 
 
 * So it shall never slide.' 
 
 Thee will I praise, O Lord, my God ! 
 
 ' Thee honour and adore' 
 With my whole heart, and blaze abroad 
 
 Thy name for evermore. 
 
 For great thy mercy is tow'rd me, 
 
 And thou hast freed my soul. 
 E'en from the lowest hell set free 
 
 * From deepest darkness foul.' 
 
 O God, the proud against me rise 
 
 And violent men are met 
 To seek my life, and in their eyes 
 
 No fear of thee have set. 
 
 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild, 
 
 Readiest thy grace to show, 
 Slow to be angry, and ' art styled,' 
 
 Most merciful, most true. 
 
 O, turn to me ' thy face at length,' 
 
 And me have mercy on; 
 Unto thy servant give thy strength/ 
 
 And save thy handmaid's son. 
 
 225 
 
226 PSALMS. 
 
 Some sign of good to me afford, 
 
 And let my foes ' then' see, 
 And be asham'd ; because thou, Lord, 
 
 Dost help and comfort me. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVII. 
 
 Among the holy mountains ' high' 
 
 Is his foundation fast ; 
 * There seated is his sanctuary,' 
 
 *His temple there is plac'd.' 
 
 Sion's 'fair' gates the Lord loves more 
 
 Than all the dwellings ' fair' 
 Of Jg-cob's * land, though there be store,* 
 
 'And all within his care.' 
 
 City of God, most glorious thing 
 
 Of thee ' abroad' are spoke ; 
 I mention Egypt ' where proud kings* 
 
 ' Did our forefathers yoke ;' 
 
 I mention Babel to my friends, 
 
 Philistia ' full of scorn ; 
 And T^Te with Ethiops' ' utmost ends,' 
 
 Lo, this man there was born : 
 
 But ' twice that praise shall in our ear* 
 
 Be said of Sion ' last ;' 
 This, and this man was born in her ; 
 
 High God shall fix her fast. 
 
 The Lord shall write it in a scroll 
 That ne'er shall be out-worn, 
 
 When he the nations doth enrol, 
 That this man there was born. 
 
 Both they who sing, and they who dance. 
 * With sacred songs are there,' 
 
PSALMS, 227 
 
 In thee * fresh brooks, and soft streams glance, 
 * And' all my fountains ' clear.' 
 
 PSALM LXXXVIII. 
 
 Lord God ! that dost me save ant' jep^ 
 
 All day to thee I cry ; 
 And all night long before thee ' '^"ep,* 
 
 Before thee 'prostrate lie.' 
 
 Into thy presence let my pray • 
 
 * With sighs devout ascend ;' 
 
 And to my cries, that, * ceaseless are,' 
 Thine ear with favour bend. 
 
 For cloy'd with woes and trouble sore, 
 Surcharg'd my soul doth lie ; 
 
 My life at ' Death's uncheerful door;' 
 Unto the grave draws nigh. 
 
 Reckon'd 1 am with them that pass 
 
 Down to the ' dismal' pit ; 
 I am a ^ man, but weak, alas ! 
 
 And for that name unfit. 
 
 From life discharg'd and parted quite 
 
 Among the dead to * sleep;' 
 And like the slain in ' bloody fight' 
 
 That in the grave lie 'deep.' 
 
 Whom thou rememberest no more, 
 
 Dost never more regard, 
 Them from thy hand deliver'd o'er 
 
 * Death's hideous house hath barrTi.' 
 
 Thou in the lowest pit ' profound,' 
 Hast set me ' all forlorn,' 
 
 ♦ Heb. ' A man without manly strength.' 
 
228 PSALMS. 
 
 Where thickest darkness * hovers round,' 
 In horrid deeps ' to mourn.' 
 
 Thy wrath, ' from which no shelter saves,* 
 
 Full sore doth press on me ; 
 Thou =^ break'st upon me all thy waves, 
 
 And ^ all thy waves break me. 
 
 Thou dost my friends from me estrange. 
 
 And mak'st me odious, 
 Me to them odious, ' for they change,' 
 
 And I here pent up thus. 
 
 Through sorrow, and affliction great. 
 Mine eye grows dim and dead : 
 
 Lord ! all the day I thee entreat 
 My hands to thee I spread. 
 
 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead ? 
 
 Shall the deceas'd arise, 
 And praise thee ' from their loathsome * bed' 
 
 * With pale and hollow eyes V 
 
 Shall they thy loving kindness tell 
 On whom the grave * hath hold V 
 
 Or they, who i perdition ' dwell,' 
 Thy faithfuh.ess ' unfold V 
 
 In darkness can thy mighty ' hand' 
 
 * Or' wondrojs acts be known? 
 Thy justice in the ' gloomy' land 
 
 Of ' dark' oblivion. 
 
 But I to thee, O Lord ! do cry, 
 
 * Ere yet my life be spent ;' 
 
 And ' up to the 3' my prayer doth * hie' 
 Each morn, and thee prevent. 
 
 ♦ The Hebr. bears both. 
 
ySALMS. 229 
 
 Why wilt thou, Lord, my soul forsake, 
 
 And hide thy face from me, 
 That am already bruis'd, and ^ shake 
 
 With terror sent from thee ? 
 
 Bruis'd and afflicted, and * so low' 
 
 As ready to expire : 
 While I thy terrors undergo 
 
 Astonish'd with thine ire. 
 
 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow ; 
 
 Thy threat'nings cut me through : 
 All day they round about me go, 
 
 Like waves they me pursue. 
 
 Lover and friend thou hast remov'd, 
 
 And sever'd from me far ; 
 They ' fly me now,' whom I have lov'd, 
 
 And as in darkness are, 
 
 A Paraphrase on Psalm cxiv. 
 
 This and the following Psalm were done by tho 
 Author at fifteen years old. 
 
 When the bless'd seed of Terah's faithful son, 
 After long toil, their liberty had won ; 
 And pass'd from Pharien fields to Canaan land, 
 Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand ; 
 Jeho-^ah's wonders were in Israel shown, 
 His praise and glory was in Israel known : 
 That saw the troubled sea, and shivering, fled. 
 And sought to hide his froth-becurled head 
 Low in the earth ; Jordan's clear streams recoil, 
 As a faint host that hath receiv'd the foil. 
 The high huge-bellied mountains skip, like rams 
 Amongst their ewes ; the little hills, like lambs. 
 
 ♦Heb. Prae Concussione, 
 
 u 
 
230 PSALMS. 
 
 Why fled the ocean ? and why skipp'd the mountains? 
 Why turn'd Jordan tow'rd his crystal fountains ? 
 Shake, earth; and at the presence be aghast 
 Of Him that ever was, and aye shall last ; 
 That glassy floods from rugged rocks can crush, 
 And make soft rills from fiery flint-stones gush. 
 
 PSALM CXXXVI. 
 
 Let us, with a gladsome mind, 
 Praise the Lord, for he is kind ; 
 
 For his mercies aye endure, 
 
 Ever faithful, ever sure. 
 
 'Let us blaze his name abroad. 
 For of gods, he is the God. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 O, let us his praises tell, 
 Who doth the wrathful tjrrants quell. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who, with his miracles, doth make 
 Amazed heaven and earth to shake. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who, by his wisdom, did create 
 The painted heavens so full of state. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who did the solid earth ordain 
 To rise above the watery plain. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who, by his all-commanding might, 
 Did fill the new-made world with light 
 For his, &c. 
 
PSALMS 2Sl 
 
 And caus'd the golden-tressed sun 
 All the day long his course to run 
 For his, &c. 
 
 The horned moon to shine by night, 
 Amongst her spangled sisters bright. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He, with his thunder-clasping hand, 
 Smote the first-born of Egypt land. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And, in despite of Pharaoh fell, 
 He brought from thence his Israel. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 The ruddy waves he cleft in twain 
 Of the Erythrasan main. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 The floods stood still like walls of glass, 
 While the Hebrew bands did pass. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 But full soon they did devour 
 The tawny king with all his power. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 His chosen people he did bless, 
 In the wasteful wilderness. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 In bloody battle he brought down 
 Kings of prowess, and renown. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He foil'd bold Seon and his host. 
 That rul'd the Amorrean coast. 
 For his, &c. 
 
2J2 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 And large-limb'd Og he did subdue, 
 With all his over-hardy crew. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And to his servant -Israel, 
 He gave their land therein to dwell. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He hath, with a piteous eye 
 Beheld us in our misery. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And freed us from the slavery 
 Of the invading enemy. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 All living creatures he doth feed. 
 And with full hand supplies their need, 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Let us therefore warble forth 
 His mighty majesty and worth. 
 For his, &c. 
 
 That his mansion hath on high 
 A-bove the reach of mortal eye. 
 
 For his mercies aye endure, 
 
 Ever faithful, ever sure. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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