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THE 
 COMPLETE 
 
 POETICAL WORKS 
 
 OF 
 
 JOHN MILTON : 
 
 n 
 
 WITH 
 EXPLANATORY NOTES, AND A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. H. STEBBING, A. M. 
 
 TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, 
 
 DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY 
 
 ON THE 
 
 POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 D. APPLETON & CO., 200 BROADWAY 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 
 GEO. S. APPLETON, 148 CHESTNUT ST. 
 
 MDCCCXLYII. 
 
T1R3SS1 
 .Si 
 
 *^^ 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
ifL 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 
 Dr. Channing's Essay on the Poetical Genius 
 
 Page 
 
 of Milton 
 
 1* 
 
 Memoir of the Author's Life 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 Paradise Lost .... 
 
 
 
 17 
 
 Paradise Regained 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 297 
 
 Samson Agonistes 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 355 
 
 CoMus, a Mask 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 399 
 
 L'Allegro 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 426 
 
 II Penseroso 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 430 
 
 Arcades 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 435 
 
 Lycidas 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 438 
 
 POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 
 
 
 On the Death of a fair Infant .... 
 
 444 
 
 A Vacation Exercise 
 
 446 
 
 On th(i Morning of Christ's Nativity 
 
 449 
 
 7'ho Passion 
 
 455 
 
 On Time 
 
 457 
 
 Upon the Circumcision * 
 
 458 
 
 At a Solemn Music 
 
 459 
 
 An Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester 
 
 ib. 
 
 Song- on May Morning 
 
 461 
 
 On Shatspeare 
 
 462 
 
 On the University Carrier .... 
 
 ib. 
 
 Another on the Same 
 
 463 
 
 The Fifth Ode of Horace, Lib. I. . . . 
 
 464 
 
 On the New Forcers of Conscience under the 
 
 
 Long Parliament 
 
 465 
 
 Sonnets 466—476 | 
 
 Psalms ........ 477. 
 
 -500 
 
 De Authore Testimonia . . . . » 
 
 501 
 
 A 
 
 
iv CONTENTS. 
 
 ELEGIARUM LIBER. 
 
 Pag? 
 
 Eleg'ia I. Ad Carokim Deodatum . . 505 
 
 II. In obi turn Pi-tjecoiiis Academici Can- 
 
 tabriiiiensis .... 507 
 
 III. In obitum Praesulis Wintoniensis . 508 
 
 IV. Ad Thomam Junium .... 510 
 
 V. In Adventum veris .... 513 
 
 - VI. Ad Carolum Deodatum rxiri commo- 
 
 rantem 5Ifi 
 
 VII. Anno iEtatis 19 519 
 
 Epigrammatum Liber 522 
 
 SYLVARUM LIBER. 
 
 In obitum Procancellarii, medici . . . 525 
 
 In Quintum Novembrij? 526 
 
 In obitum Praesulis Elicnsis .... 532 
 
 Naturam non pati Senium 533 
 
 De Idea Platonica quemadmodum Aristotcles 
 
 intellexit 535 
 
 Ad Patrem 536 
 
 Psalm CXIV. Gra^ce 539 
 
 Ad Saisillum, Poetam Romanum aegrotantem . 540 
 
 Mansus 541 
 
 Epitaphium Damonis 544 
 
 Ad Joaonem Rousium ..•••» 650 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 MILTON'S LIFE AND WRITINGS. 
 
 The celebrated subject of this Memoir was born Dec. 
 9, 1603. His father, who was a scrivener, soon after 
 obtained a sufficient fortune to retire from his pro- 
 fession, but resided, at the birth of the poet, in Bread- 
 street, London. After having received considerable 
 advantage from the instructions of private tutors, 
 Milton was sent to St. Paul's school, where he made 
 a remarkable progress in classical literature ; and 
 from Vv''hence he was sent to Christ's College, Cam- 
 bridge. In 1028 he took his B.A., and in 1032 his 
 M.A. degree ; after receiving which, and declining 
 to take holy orders, he retired to his father's house at 
 Horton, near Colebrooke, in Buckinghamshire. Dur- 
 ing the five years he resided here, he pursued his 
 studies with an ardour and diligence which have 
 seldom been equalled; and besides making many ac- 
 quisitions in learning, he produced his exquisite 
 poems of Comus, Lycidas, and some other minor 
 pieces. 
 
 About the year 1638, his mother died, and he ob- 
 tained the consent of his father to make a tour on 
 the continent ; he accordingly set forth, and very 
 few travellers could be found possessing the qualifi- 
 cations for profiting by their journey which Milton 
 had acquired in his retirement. In the different 
 parts of the continent, therefore, which he visited, 
 he was received with the greatest attention by the 
 most celebrated men of the age, and he returned to 
 England, after an absence of fifteen months, with 
 the acquisition of many honourable friendships, and 
 an important addition to his stock of knowledge and 
 accomplishments. It had been his intention to pro- 
 long his tour by a visit to Greece, but the civil com- 
 uioiicns which preceded the establishment of the 
 A 
 
\i MEMOIR OF MILTON'S 
 
 Commonwealth were commencing, and he conceived 
 it his duty to lift up his voice in a struggle to which 
 his love of liberty gave the highest interest. 
 
 Almost immediately after Cromwell had obtained 
 an established ascendancy, Milton was appointed 
 Latin secretary to the government, and in this situ- 
 ation, besides performing the proper duties of his 
 office, he distinguished himself by several works 
 written in defence of republican principles, and of 
 the conduct of the men who had rendered them- 
 selves most conspicuous in the late contest. Before, 
 however, he acquired this situation, he passed through 
 some troubles of a domestic nature, which it is pro- 
 bable, materially influenced many of his subsequent 
 feelings and opinions. In the year 1643, he had 
 married the daughter of a gentleman of the name of 
 Powell, a magistrate in Oxfordshire. Unfortunately 
 for the parties, they each belonged to factions, over 
 which political rancour exercised entire control, and 
 Milton had scarcely been united a month, when his 
 wife requested pei-mission to visit her relatives. She 
 obtained her desire, but soon after intimated that 
 she never intended returning. This circumstance 
 gave birth to our author's celebrated writings on the 
 subject of divorce ; and he was on the point of mar- 
 rying again, when his repentant wife sought a re- 
 conciliation, and she was restored to favour. At this 
 time also he took pupils, and by the income he thus 
 obtained, he was enabled to support not only his 
 family, but the father and mother of his wife, who 
 subsequently suffered in common with the rest of the 
 royalist party. 
 
 About the year 1639, after having been for some 
 time labouring under an affection of the eyes, he 
 was afflicted with the total loss of his sight, which he 
 never recovered. But this caused no diminution to 
 his zeal for learning, and as soon as he found him- 
 self free from the burden of public controversy, he 
 commenced a History of England, which, however, 
 he carried no farther than the Norman Conquest. 
 He also prepared some portion of a Latin Thesaurus, 
 which was published in the Cambridge Dictionary 
 of 1693. But events were about to happen, which 
 
MEMOIR OF MILTON'S. rii 
 
 however inimical to the temporal prosperity of Milton, 
 were, it is probable, of the utmost use in concen- 
 trating- the powers of his mind on an object suf- 
 ficiently noble for their employment. By the restora- 
 tion of the royal family he lost his office, was driven 
 into obscurity, and was for some time in hourly 
 danger of suffering- for the active part he had taken 
 in the councils of the revolutionary government. 
 But fortunately for the interests of literature, his 
 noble genius was no longer to be occupied in the de- 
 fence of political factions, or in the preparation of 
 treaties. He was henceforth to be left in solitude, 
 and in the undisturbed peace of his obscure home, 
 to hold communion with his own spirit, which had 
 been gathering- strength from worldly trouble, and 
 with the great and awful spirit of truth which con- 
 verted the splendid workings of his imagination into 
 revelations of her hidden glory. The conception of 
 the Paradise Lost was not one of those flashes of 
 genius which it would be impossible, perhaps, to trace 
 to their cause. It had b€;en long growing and de- 
 veloping in his mind, and when the particular form 
 of the work was determined, the vast and glorious 
 assemblage of thoughts and visions which had been 
 long present to his intellect, arranged themselves in 
 a beautiful and perfect order — the creative faculty of 
 the poet had been at work, and it wanted but the 
 repose which is necessary to judgment to connect 
 imag-ination with design. But there is an inspira- 
 tion proper to the highest order of poets, which 
 Milton enjoyed in a supreme degree, and the posses- 
 sion of which he signified by those intimations he so 
 fondly gave of his communion with celestial visitants 
 in his lonely chamber, and in the stillness and dark- 
 ness of the night. To this mysterious elevation of 
 nature, if it be nothing else, or to this divine gift of 
 clear intellectual vision, are to be ascribed the deep 
 and solemn tones of his lyre, the grandeur and splen 
 dour of his representations, the power with which 
 he calls up from the unfathomable depths of chaos 
 and eternity spirits of good and evil, the glory with 
 which every scene and object he describes is bedrop- 
 ped, and the calm authoritative lang-uage with which 
 
viii MEMOIR OF MILTON'S. 
 
 he inculcates the xinchang-iiig- beauty of virtue. We 
 have here also, it may be conjectured, a reasoi? 'vhy 
 Paradise Lost, and I believe it has been the case 
 with all great poems, was the work of Milton's de- 
 clining- yefM's. It was produced when every turbulent 
 feeling of youth was subsided ; when experience 
 had had her perfect work, and when his soul could 
 listen in quiet to the voice of the charmer, wisdom. 
 Many of its most brilliant passages might have been 
 produced in earlier years, but it could only be when 
 the waywardness of thought was subdued, and the 
 human spirit stood free from temporal hopes and 
 v/ishes, that it could bear such a weight of glory; 
 that it could look long and steadily upon the majes- 
 tic vision with which it was encompassed- 
 
 Paradise Lost was completed in the year 16G5, when 
 Milton was verging towards sixty. He had at that 
 period been suffering for several years under the 
 distressing deprivation of sight, and an acute gout, 
 from the torture of which he was seldom free. His 
 foitunes also had been almost continually iiuctuating, 
 and he had witnessed as many domestic changes as 
 fall to the lot of most men. His first wife died in 
 child-bed, and he shoi^tly after man-ied the daughter 
 of a Captain Woodcock, v/hom he lost in the same 
 manner as he had done his former wife, before their 
 nuion had been completed a year. From the unpro- 
 tected state, however, to which he felt himself re- 
 duced by his blindness, he was tempted to enter the 
 matrimonial state again, and he manied a lady of the 
 name of Minshull, who survived him. While these 
 events were occurring, he changed his residence to 
 every part of London, till at length he finally settled 
 himself in a house in Bunhill-row- 
 
 Several difficulties, it is said, were found to prever^t 
 the publication of the Paradise Lost after its com- 
 pletion. These were pai^tly owing to the power of 
 the licenser, who could raise whatever objections he 
 chose to the printing of any work, and partly to the 
 niggardliness of the booksellers and the character of 
 the public mind at the period. The latter, it is 
 probable, was the greatest obstacle which an author 
 in those days had to encounter. There was no 
 
LIFE AND WRITINGS. ix 
 
 reading populace, no book-clubs, provincial libraries, 
 or facilities tor circulating* literary works through 
 the mass of the public ; intelligence was in general 
 confined to the small portion of the community who 
 were possessed of fortune and talents, and the pro- 
 ductions of taste had, coiisequently, to wait for the 
 slow succession of those select readers before they 
 could obtain a decided establishment in the list of 
 classical works. There were, it is true, literary pro- 
 ductions in the reign of Charles the Second, which 
 acquired a reputation that might be called popular, 
 but they were such as appealed, by their ribaldry 
 and loose sentiments, to the lowest of men's passions, 
 and were, therefore, equally sure of vulgar, as of 
 fashionable attention. The poetry of Milton, on the 
 contrary, touched upon no topic which the lewd 
 spirit of the age could relish ; it fed no unhallowed 
 desire, perverted no principle of morality, and gave 
 splendour to no character which was not rendered 
 illustrious by holiness. The comedies of the most 
 popular authors of the period, and the licentious 
 verses of the wits of Charles's court, were greedily 
 devoured by all classes, but no purity of taste was 
 required to enjoy thenj, and no depth of thought to 
 fathom their meaning. Milton's verse was a magic 
 stream that had music for but few ears, and the 
 levity and vicious abandonment of the times had 
 degraded king, courtiers, and people, to the lowest 
 character of vulgarity. Hence the comparative 
 neglect which attended the original publication of 
 Paradise Lost ; hence the fear of the bookseller to 
 give more than five pounds for the copyright, and 
 the slowness of its sale, compared with that of works 
 infinitely inferior in merit. 
 
 When, however, these circumstances are con- 
 pidered, there wa^ no particular bad fortune atteniing 
 the publication of this poem. It was sold, in the first 
 instance, to one Simmons, a printer, and the real 
 wonder is, that it was disposed of for no more than 
 five pounds, with the agreement that five more 
 should be paid after the sale of thirteen hundred of 
 the first edition, and the same sum after the sale of 
 fis many of the second ; which stipulation was also 
 A 2 
 
X MEMOIR OF MILTON'S 
 
 to extend to the third edition. All that Milton lived 
 to receive was ten pounds, as he died tne same yeai 
 the second edition was published. It ia impossible 
 not to be forcibly struck with this remarkable 
 circumstance, but when the peiiod in which the 
 work was published, and its particular character, 
 are considered, its reaching- to three editions in ten 
 years is a sufficient proof that it suffered no greater 
 neglect than may be accounted for by obvious 
 causes. In the history of literature there is niore 
 than a single instance of failure which the un- 
 fortunate author could attribute only to his own bad 
 luck, which resulted from his want of means to 
 make his work known, or the neglect which a 
 production of the greatest merit will often guffer, 
 when a writer has not the advantages of a pre- 
 viously acquired reputation. Many are the works of 
 genius which have been permitted to pass at once 
 into oblivion from some such causes as these, and 
 the authors of which have pined in broken-hearted- 
 ness after a reputation which they only wanted 
 some favourable accident to receive, possessing thtj 
 golden ore, but wanting the amalgam tliat should 
 make it valuable in the world. But Milton lost not 
 a particle of success in this manner ; the times were 
 against him, not fortune ; and his labours were as 
 amply rewarded by public fame as any author of 
 such a work as Paradise Lost could have expected. 
 
 About three years after the publication of Paradise 
 Lost, the History of England, which had been written 
 many years before, was printed, and in the foUovv^ing 
 year, 1671, Paradise Regained and Samson Agonistes. 
 The former of these poems was owing to the advice 
 of Elwood, a Quaker, who had been a pupil of 
 Milton's, and to whom he had shewn his larger 
 work ill manuscript. On returning it the former 
 observed, ' Thou hast said much of Paradise Lost, 
 but what hast thou to say of Paradise Found'?' 
 * He made no answer,' continues Elwood, in his 
 account of this conversation, ' but sat some time in 
 a muse ; then broke off that discourse, and fell upon 
 another subject.' 
 
 The temperate mode of living which Milton had 
 
LIFE AND WRiTIN(^S. xi 
 
 early adox^ted, was such as is generally rewarded 
 by a long- and healthy life ; but he suffered under an 
 hereditary gout, and his sedentary habits and un- 
 ceasing application, all contributed to weaken a 
 constitution which had never been robust. Few men 
 of letters either have ever suffered so greatly from 
 the wear and tear of public life. From what we 
 know of Milton's character there is reason to think 
 that the ordinary passions of our nature were, from 
 the first dawn of manhood, subdued in his bosom. 
 There v/as a calmness and tranquillity, amounting 
 to sternness, in his conduct and demeanour. He v/as 
 sincere and constant in his friendships, but he wrote 
 to and of his friends with classical precision, a'jd 
 seemed to find a greater relish in the intercourse 
 when the learned spirit of antiquity assisted it. 
 Love of woman never warmed him sufhciently to 
 make him for a moment forget the severe assertion 
 of authority, and in his character of child and father 
 no melting tenderness, no irresistible flow of domestic 
 'oy, entered into its composition. It would, perhaps 
 De refining too much, but I am inclined to think that 
 this austerity of nature may be observed in the 
 coldness with which he seems to have regarded the 
 objects to Vv'hich private memory gives a sanctity 
 and beauty. His poems are singularly devoid of any 
 occasional interest derived fi'om this source. There 
 are no signs of that deep rich stream of inner 
 feeling which memory calls up in gentler breasts. 
 We hear him vttering no lament over things which 
 have passed away, because thej' were associated 
 with some home-thought, or old familiar object. 
 Whenever he leaves the present for the past, it is 
 to hasten far beyond the bounds where history ceases 
 to have a daily interest ; it was not with the gene- 
 ration of his fathers, but with the patriarchs of the 
 world he held communion, and when his heart 
 warmed at any recollection of the past, it was his 
 admiration, not his sympathy, that was awakened. 
 The ordinary passions of our nature had, therefore, 
 not much influence over Milton. Those which fever 
 the heart had little, those which contract it had 
 leas. But there was one grand and mighty feeling 
 
Xii MEMOIR OF MILTON'S 
 
 ^vbich kept him in a state of strong excitement 
 "when every other was subdued ; it was his ardent 
 love of freedom, his lofty aspiration after a liberty 
 which should render all men equal by exalting all. 
 Amid his tranquil meditations, in the loneliest retire- 
 ment of his home, when oppressed with care and 
 blindness, and wearied with the vicissitudes of fortune 
 this passion was still as burning- as in his earliest 
 youth ; the evil days and times on which he waa 
 fallen bowed his spirit, but diminished not its thirst 
 for freedom; and when he saw his fondest hopes 
 disappointed in the destruction of the commonwealth, 
 he appears to have cherished a bitterness of feeling, 
 as well as a heavy wearing sorrow, that must have 
 materially assisted in shortening his days. The death 
 of this illustrious man took place on the 10th of 
 November, 1G74, at his residence in Bunhill-row. He 
 was buried in St. Giles's, Cripplegate, in the chancel 
 of the church, and the funeral was attended by a 
 great number of noblemen, as well as by a large 
 concourse of the populace. In 1737 a monument wao 
 raised to his memory in Westminster Abbey, and a 
 few years back another small one was placed in the 
 church where he lies interred. 
 
 Milton's person is described as of the middle size, 
 and his countenance as remarkable for mildness and 
 beauty of expression. When at Cambridge, he was 
 called the lady of Christ's College, and there is an 
 anecdote told of his having captivated, by his singular 
 beauty, the heart of some unknown female of rank, 
 who happened to see him sleeping under a tree. In 
 his advanced age he suffered so acutely that his 
 hands became almost deformed with chalk stones, 
 and his face of a sickly paleness. His habits were, 
 as it has been said, extremely temperate, and those 
 of a diligent student, to the last year of his life. He 
 was accustomed to retire to rest about nine, and to 
 rise at four in the summer and five in winter. The 
 first thing which he did on getting up, v/as to hear 
 a chapter of the Hebrew Bible read to him ; he then 
 studied the subjects he was occupied upon till twelve, 
 after which he took an hour's exercise, and then 
 dined. With playing on the organ, an hour or two's 
 
LIFE ANU WRITINGS. xiii 
 
 further study, and the evening'^ conversation with 
 his fiiends, the remainder of the day was concluded, 
 and having eaten a few olives, smoked his pipe, 
 and drunk a glass of water, he retired to rest. 
 
 Milton had five children ; four by his first and one 
 by his second wife ; of these, the three daughters 
 whom he had by the former survived him, the 
 others died in infancy. The last surviving of the 
 daughters died in August, 1727. She was married 
 to a Spitalfields' weaver of the name of Clarke, by 
 whom she had seven sons and three daughters. Of 
 these only two had children; and there is at present 
 uo lineal descendant of the poet living. 
 
 But I turn from this brief review of the poet's 
 life to as brief a consideration of the magnificent 
 talents by which his immortality is established. 
 The genius of Milton has not yet, perhaps, met with 
 its proper observer. His great fame has made him 
 too sacred an object in the eyes of general readers 
 to let them think of any thing but implicit venera- 
 tion ; and the men of letters who have been pro- 
 fessedly his critics, have been more intent on cor- 
 recting or illustrating the text by their learning 
 than on unfolding the veil which partially hides the 
 grandeur and uncomprehended beauty of all true 
 poetry. Almost the only one among them who has 
 written with the express purpose of employing a 
 more general and philosophical species of criticism 
 is Addison, a man of elegant taste and accom- 
 plished mind, hut possessing little of that depth of 
 thought, or vigour of intellect, which is necessary 
 to the character of a critic. Johnson, again, strong 
 as was his mind, was as little fitted for the ofiice 
 he had assumed ; for he was as deficient in depth 
 of perception and feeling as Addison was in intel- 
 lectual power. Much, therefore, as has been done 
 towards illustrating the works of Milton, the praise 
 or blame he has received has not proceeded from 
 any very elevated principles of criticism. 
 
 Milton is the most learned of our English poets. 
 
 There is no work of either this or any other country 
 
 on which so much profound erudition has been 
 
 expended as on Paradise Lost. The learning of all 
 
 A3 
 
xiv MEMOIR OF MILTON'S 
 
 ages, the opinions of the wisest men, the supersti- 
 tions of the most benighted nations, the truths of 
 pliilosophy and science, aiid the most solemn mys- 
 teries of religion, were all explored by the great 
 author, and he poured out the whole vast treasure 
 of his mind into the golden vase his imagination 
 had formed. But to decide upon the true character 
 of his genius, we must not be content with the 
 examination of his larger works. They were com- 
 posed after his mind was more than furnished, after 
 it w^as enveloped with learning ; and it is some- 
 times, therefore, not clear whether knowledge have 
 not mastered thought instead of being its auxiliary. 
 From the earlier poems of Milton we are able to 
 discover, with some degree of certainty, the prin- 
 cipal and original characteristics of his genius. In 
 them we trace the love of truth, the creative ima- 
 gination, the power over language, which form the 
 featiwes of his subsequent productions. But we see 
 them in their origin. With him the love of truth 
 was the offspring of a tranquil but noble soul, and 
 from the dawning of his mind it was the object he 
 most earnestly sought. But he sought it chiefly 
 among books, or among those who derived their 
 materials of thinking solely from them. The fashion 
 of the times was not in favour of original thinking, 
 and hence he, like the other great men of the 
 period, principally employed himself in heaping 
 together all the knowledge which the accumulated 
 learning of ages could afford. One consequence of 
 this was the subjection of passion, thought, and 
 feeling, to memory; and there is, therefore, to be 
 discovered no beauty of a sentimental kind, even in 
 his freshest and earliest poems. The same cause 
 will also account for the absence of that heart- 
 reaching, spiritual eloquence with which poetry 
 sometimes awakens us. There are scarcely any 
 thoughts to be found in Milton which can be 
 ascribed to his sympathy with individual suffering, 
 or to his consideration of human nature in its simple 
 but deep workings. He gave himself no time for 
 this unincumbered view of humanity. He sought 
 the true philosophy of nature, but it was in the 
 
LIFE AND WRITINGS. xv 
 
 history of sects and kingdoms ; and he learnt to 
 excite wonder hut not passion. Whatever, there- 
 fore, might have been the tendencies of his nature 
 truth in his poetry is a reflected not primitive 
 truth ; the truth which learning searches for and 
 discovers, not what every heart feels and recognises. 
 
 But Milton possessed an imagination of the highest 
 order; an imagination which could combine or 
 create at will the noblest objects of contemplation. 
 His early poet is sufiiciently attest the energy of this 
 divine power in his mind. The classical style of 
 his verses never affect its originality ; and they run 
 like a stream of light and beauty wherever the 
 imagination is free to operate. All the other facul- 
 ties of his intellect received their tone from this. 
 His power of description was raised by it into a 
 creative faculty; the objects of memory passed 
 through it, and became godlike and eternal. It 
 elevated his thoughts to other worlds of beings, 
 which it alone could make visible ; and reason in 
 her severest moods was led by it to take her weapons 
 from the splendid and ethereal armoury of poetry. In 
 Comus, the Allegro, and Penseroso, and the religious 
 Odes, we see all this power of the imagination 
 operating, but producing only beautiful and holy 
 forms ; we are entertained with the sight of nature 
 suffused with heavenly light, with the discourse of 
 bright and spiritual beings, and with the view of 
 past scenes, over which hangs the cloud of divine 
 glory. All here is fresh and spring-like. The poet's 
 imagination was a bird of Paradise, that had not 
 strength of wing to explore the dark world beyond it. 
 
 When years, continued study, and experience of 
 the world, had altered the general tone of his feel- 
 ings, this distinguishing power of his genius as- 
 sumed, with increasing strength^ a severer character. 
 The world of interminable being was all before it, 
 and it chose out of the tremendous wilderness of 
 space the most fearful spot it could discover. Here 
 it rejoiced in its power. The great void grew in- 
 stinct with life. The universe of thought became 
 substantial, and night and ruin stood palpably dis- 
 tinct in the outflooding and creating light of heaven. 
 
xvi MEMOIR OF MILTON. 
 
 No mortal ever saw that vision so distinct as Milton, 
 and seeing it he could but write as he did. His 
 imagination was a sense, not the result of emotion. 
 It was from sight, not feeling, his inspiration came, 
 and hence the grandeur, but coldness, of his genius 
 —the distinctness and reality of his creations— the 
 cramped scholasticism of his philosophy. 
 
 There are other points of a minor but highly in- 
 teresting nature in considering the genius of Milton. 
 His deficiency of passion was the only element 
 which was wanting to the perfection of his poetic 
 character. When we examine it in respect to every 
 other, we find it full and complete ; perfect, not only 
 in the higher and rarer requisites of genius, but in 
 those lighter qualities from which inferior minds 
 derive their sole claim to consideration. Milton 
 had as perfect a knowledge of the art of poetry as 
 any cold, formal writer of verses, who has no other 
 means of gaining respectability. He had also an 
 equal degree of judgment in arranging the different 
 parts of his subject, and while there v/as no species 
 of learning which he had not pursued, there was 
 no, not even the commonest kind of, information 
 which he could not accommodate, with the nicest 
 skill, to his purpose. But of all these minor features 
 of his genius, that which most deserves considera- 
 tion is the exquisite power he possessed over every 
 kind of metre. The versification of his shorter 
 poems is the most beautiful specimen we possess of 
 the music of our language. The blank metre of 
 Paradise Lost is more various, more rich in the 
 melody of cadences, than that of any other English 
 poem. This, perhaps, is owing to a circumstance 
 not generally observed, that Milton is almost the 
 only writer in blank verse who had previously made 
 himself a perfect master of rhyme and the rhyming 
 measures. 
 
DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY 
 
 POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON 
 
 In speaking of the intellectual qualities of Mil- 
 ton, we may begin with observing, that the very 
 splendour of his poetic fame has tended to obscure 
 or conceal the extent of his mind, and the variety 
 of its energies and attainments. To many he 
 seems only a poet, when in truth he was a pro- 
 found scholar, a man of vast compass of thought, 
 imbued thoroughly with all ancient and, modern 
 learning, and able to master, to mould, to impreg- 
 nate with his own intellectual power, his great a.nd 
 various acquisitions. He had not learned the 
 superficial doctrine of a later day, — that poetry 
 flourishes most in an uncultivated soil, and that 
 imagination shapes its brightest visions from the 
 mists of a superstitious age ; and he had no dread 
 of accumulating knowledge, lest it should oppress 
 and smother his genius. He was conscious of that 
 within him, which could quicken all knowledge, 
 and wield it with ease and might ; which could 
 give freshness to old truths, and harmony to dis- 
 cordant thoughts ; which could bind together by 
 
2* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 
 
 living ties and mysterious affinities the most remote 
 discoveries ; and rear fabrics of glory and beauty 
 from the rude materials which other minds had 
 collected. Milton had that universality which 
 marks the highest order of intellect. Though 
 accustomed almost from infancy to drink at the 
 fountains of classical literature, he had nothing of 
 the pedantry and fastidiousness which disdain all 
 other draughts. His healthy mind delighted in 
 genius, on whatever soil or in whatever age it burst 
 forth and poured out its fulness. He understood 
 too well the rights, and dignity, and pride of crea- 
 tive imagination, to lay on it the laws of the Greek 
 or Roman school. Parnassus was not to him the 
 only holy ground of genius. He felt that poetry 
 was as a universal presence. Great minds were 
 every where his kindred. He felt the enchant- 
 ment of Oriental fiction, surrendered himself to the 
 strange creations of * Araby the blest,' and de- 
 lighted still more in the romantic spirit of chivalry, 
 and in the tales of wonder in which it was embodied. 
 Accordingly his poetry reminds us of the ocean, 
 which adds to its own boundlessness contributions 
 from all regions under heaven. Nor was it only 
 in the department of imagination, that his acqui- 
 sitions were vast. He travelled over the whole 
 field of knowledge, as far as it had then been 
 explored. His various philological attainments 
 were used to put him in possession of the wisdom 
 stored in all countries, where the intellect had beeu 
 
THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *3 
 
 cultivated. The natural philosophy, metaphysics, 
 ethics, history, theology and political science of his 
 own and former times, were familiar to him. 
 Never was there a more unconfined mind, and we 
 would cite Milton as a practical example of tha 
 benefits of that universal culture of intellect, 
 which forms one distinction of our times, bu. 
 which some dread as unfriendly to original thought. 
 Let such remember, that mind is in its own nature 
 difiTusive. Its object is the universe, which is 
 strictly one, or bound together by infinite con- 
 nexions and correspondences 5 and accordingly its 
 natural progress is from one to another field cf 
 thought ; and wherever original power, creative 
 genius exists, the mind, far from being distracted 
 or oppressed by the variety of its acquisitions, will 
 see more and more common bearings and hidden 
 and beautiful analogies in all the objects of know- 
 ledge, will see mutual light shed from truth to 
 truth, and will compel, as with a kingly power, 
 whatever it understands, to yield some tribute of 
 proof, or illustration, or splendour, to whatever 
 topic it would unfold. 
 
 Milton's fame rests chiefly on his poetry, and to 
 this we naturally give our first attention. By 
 those v^ho are accustomed to speak of poetry as 
 light reading, Milton's eminence in this sphere 
 may be considered only as giving him a high rank 
 among the contributors to public amusement. 
 Not so thought Milton. Of all God's gifts of 
 
•HI. 
 
 DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 
 
 intellect, he esteemed poetical genius the most 
 transcendent. He esteemed it in himself as a kind 
 of inspiration, and wrote his great works with 
 something of the conscious dignity of a prophet. 
 We agree with Milton in his estimate of poetry. 
 It seems to us the divinest of all arts ; for it is the 
 breathing or expression of that principle or senti- 
 ment, which is deepest and sublimest in human 
 nature ; we mean of that thirst or aspiration, to 
 which no mind is wholly a stranger, for something 
 purer and lovelier, something more powerful, lofty, 
 and thrilling, than ordinary and real life affords. 
 No doctrine is more common among Christians 
 than that of man's immortality ; but it is not so 
 generally understood, that the germs or principles 
 of his whole future being are now wrapped up in 
 his soul, as the rudiments of the future plant in 
 the seed. As a necessary result of this constitu- 
 tion, the soul, possessed and moved by these 
 mighty though infant energies, is perpetually 
 stretching beyond what is present and visible, 
 struggling against the bounds of its earthly prison- 
 house, and seeking relief and joy in imaginings of 
 unseen and ideal being. This view of our nature, 
 which has never been fully developed, and which 
 goes further towards explaining the contradictions 
 of human life than all others, carries us to the very 
 foundation and sources of poetry. He, who can- 
 not interpret by his own consciousness what we 
 now have said, wants the true key to works of 
 
THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *5 
 
 genius. He has not penetrated those sacred 
 recesses of the soul, where poetry is born and 
 nourished, and inhales immortal vigour, and 
 wings herself for her heavenward flight. In an 
 intellectual nature framed for progress and for 
 higher modes of being, there must be creative 
 energies, powers of original and ever-growing- 
 thought ; and poetry is the form in which these 
 energies are chiefly manifested. It is the glorious 
 prerogative of this art, that it * makes all things new' 
 for the gratification of a divine instinct. It indeed 
 finds its elements in what it actually sees and ex- 
 periences,: in the worlds of matter and mind ; bu< 
 it combines and blends these into new forms and 
 according to new aflinities ; breaks down, if we 
 may so say, the distinctions and bounds of nature • 
 imparts to material objects life, and sentiment^ 
 and emotion, and invests the mind with the powers 
 and splendours of the outward creation ; describes 
 the surrounding universe in the colours which the 
 passions throw over it, and depicts the mind in 
 those modes of repose or agitation, of tenderness 
 or sublime emotion, which manifest its thirst for a 
 more powerful and joyful existence. To a man of 
 a literal and prosaic character, the mind may seem 
 lawless in these workings; but it observes higher 
 laws than it transgresses, the laws of the immortal 
 intellect ; it is trying and developing its best 
 faculties ; and in the objects which it describes, or 
 in the emotions which it awakens, anticipates 
 A2 
 
6* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 
 
 those states of progressive power, splendour, 
 beauty, and happiness, for which it was created. 
 
 We accordingly believe that poetry, far from 
 injuring society, is one of the great instruments of 
 its refinement and exaltation. It lifts the mind 
 above ordinary life, gives it a respite from depress- 
 ing cares, and awakens the consciousness of its 
 affinity with what is pure and noble. In its 
 legitimate and highest efforts, it has the same 
 tendency and aim with Christianity; that is, to 
 spiritualize our nature. True, poetry has been 
 made the instrument of vice, the pander of bad 
 passions ; but when genius thus stoops, it dims its 
 fires, and parts with much of its power ; and even 
 when poetry is enslaved to licentiousness or mis- 
 anthropy, she cannot wholly forget her true voca- 
 tion. Strains of pure feeling, touches of tender- 
 ness, images of innocent happiness, sympathies 
 with suffering virtue, bursts of scorn or indignation 
 at the hollowness of the world, passages true to 
 our moral nature, often escape in an immoral work, 
 and shew us how hard it is for a gifted spirit to 
 divorce itself wholly from what is good. Poetry 
 has a natural alliance with our best affections. 
 It delights in the beauty and sublimity of the 
 outward creation and of the soul. It indeed 
 portrays with terrible energy the excesses of the 
 passions ; but they are passions which shew a 
 mighty nature, which are full of power, which 
 command awe, and excite a deep though shudder- 
 
THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *7 
 
 mg sympathy. Its great tendency and purpose is, 
 to carry the mind beyond and above the beaten, 
 dusty, weary walks of ordinary life ; to lift it into 
 a purer element, and to breathe into it more pro- 
 found and generous emotion. It reveals to us 
 the loveliness of nature, brings back the freshness 
 of youthful feeling, revives the relish of simple 
 pleasures, keeps unquenched the enthusiasm which 
 warmed the spring-time of our being, refines youth- 
 ful love, strengthens our interest in human nature 
 by vivid delineations of its tenderest and loftiest 
 feelings, spreads our sympathies over all classes of 
 society, knits us by new ties with universal being, 
 and through the brightness of its prophetic visions 
 helps faith to lay hold on the future life. 
 
 We are aware, that it is objected to poetry, that 
 it gives wrong views and excites false expectations 
 of life, peoples the mind with shadows and illusions, 
 and builds up imagination on the ruins of wisdom. 
 That there is a wisdom, against which poetry wars, 
 the wisdom of the senses, which makes physical 
 comfort and gratification the supreme good, and 
 wealth the chief interest of life, we do not deny ; 
 nor do we deem it the least service which poetry 
 renders to mankind, that it redeems them from the 
 thraldom of this earthborn prudence. But, passing 
 over this topic, we would observe, that the com- 
 plaint against poetry as abounding in illusion and 
 deception, is in the main groundless. In many 
 poems there is more of truth than m many histories 
 
8* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 
 
 and philosophic theories. The fictions of genius 
 are often the vehicles of the sublimest verities, and 
 its flashes often open new regions of thought, and 
 throw new light on the mysteries of our being. 
 In poetry the letter is falsehood, but the spirit is 
 often profoundest wisdom. And if truth thus 
 dwells in the boldest fictions of the poet, much 
 more may it be expected in his delineations of life ; 
 for the present life, which is the first stage of the 
 immortal mind, abounds in the materials of poetry, 
 and it is the high office of the bard to detect this 
 divine element among the grosser labours and 
 pleasures of our earthly being. The present life 
 is not wholly prosaic, precise, tame and finite. To 
 the gifted eye, it abounds in the poetic. The 
 aflfections which spread beyond ourselves and 
 stretch far into futurity ; the workings of mighty 
 passions, which seem to arm the soul with an 
 almost superhuman energy ; the innocent and 
 irrepressible joy of infancy ; the bloom, and 
 buoyancy, and dazzling hopes, of youth ; the 
 throbbings of the heart, when it first wakes to 
 love, and dreams of a happiness too vast for earth ; 
 woman, with her beauty, and grace, and gentle- 
 ness, and fulness of feeling, and depth of aflPection, 
 and her blushes of purity, and the tones and looks 
 which only a mother's heart can inspire ;— these 
 are all poetical. It is not true that the poet paints 
 a life which does not exist. He only extracts and 
 concentrates, as it were, life's ethereal essence. 
 
THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *9 
 
 arrests and condenses its volatile fragrance, brings 
 together its scattered beauties, and prolongs its 
 more refined but evanescent joys ; and in this he 
 does well ; for it is good to feel that life is not 
 wholly usurped by cares for subsistence, and 
 physical gratifications, but admits, in measures 
 which may be indefinitely enlarged, sentiments 
 and delights worthy of a higher being. This 
 power of poetry to refine our views of life and 
 happiness is more and more needed as society 
 advances. It is needed to withstand the encroach- 
 ments of heartless and artificial manners, which 
 make civilization so tame and uninteresting. It 
 is needed to counteract the tendency of physical 
 science, which being now sought, not as formerly 
 for intellectual gratification, but for multiplying 
 bodily comforts, requires a new developement of 
 imagination, taste and poetry, to preserve men 
 from sinking into an earthly, material, epicurean 
 life. — Our remarks in vindication of poetry have 
 extended beyond our original design. They have 
 had a higher aim than to assert the dignity of 
 Milton as a poet, and that is, to endear and re- 
 commend this divine art to all who reverence and 
 vi^ould cultivate and refine their nature. 
 
 In delineating Milton's character as a poet, we 
 are saved the necessity of looking far for its dis- 
 tinguishing attributes. His name is almost iden- 
 tified with sublimity. He is in truth the sublimest 
 
10* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 
 
 of men. He rises, not by effort or discipline, bu* 
 by a native tendency and a godlike instinct, to 
 the contemplation of objects of grandeur and 
 awfulness. He always moves with a conscious 
 energy. There is no subject so vast or terrific, as 
 to repel or intimidate him. The overpowering 
 grandeur of a theme kindles and attracts him. He 
 enters on the description of the infernal regions 
 with a fearless tread, as if he felt within himself a 
 power to erect the prison-house of fallen spirits, 
 to encircle them with flames and horrors worthy 
 of their crimes, to call forth from them shouts 
 which should * tear hell's concave,' and to embody 
 in their Chief an Archangel's energies and a 
 Demon's pride and hate. Even the stupendous 
 conception of Satan seems never to oppress his 
 faculties. This character of power runs through 
 all Milton's works. His descriptions of nature 
 shew a free and bold hand. He has no need of 
 the minute, graphic skill, which we prize in 
 Cowper or Crabbe. With a few strong or delicate 
 touches, he impresses, as it were, his own mind on 
 the scenes which he would describe, and kindles 
 the imagination of the gifted reader to clothe them 
 with the same radiant hues under which they ap- 
 peared to his own. 
 
 This attribute of power is universally felt to 
 characterize Milton. His sublimity is in every 
 man's mouth. Is it felt that his poetry breathes a 
 sensibility and tenderness hardly surpassed by its 
 
THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *!! 
 
 sublimity? We apprehend that the grandeur of 
 Milton's mind has thrown some shade over his 
 milder beauties ; and this it has done not only by 
 being more striking and imposing, but by the 
 tendency of vast mental energy to give a certain 
 calmness to the expression of tenderness and deep 
 feeling. A great mind is the master of its own 
 enthusiasm, and does not often break out into 
 those tumults, vi^hich pass with many for the signs 
 of profound emotion. Its sensibility, though more 
 intense and enduring, is more self-possessed, and 
 less perturbed, than that of other men, and is 
 therefore less observed and felt, except by those 
 who understand, through their own consciousness, 
 the workings and utterance of genuine feeling. 
 We might quote pages in illustration of the qua- 
 lities here ascribed to Milton. Turn to Comus, 
 one of his earliest productions. What sensibility 
 breathes in the descriptions of the benighted Lady's 
 singing, by Comus and the Spirit ! 
 
 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 nighty 
 At every fall smoothing the raven down 
 Of darkness till it smiled ! I have oft heard 
 
12* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY OW 
 
 My mother Circe with the Sirens three. 
 
 Amidst the flow'ry-kirtled Naiades, 
 
 Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs, 
 
 Who, as they sung-, would take the prison'd soul, 
 
 And lap it in Elysium ; Scylla wept, 
 
 And chid her barking waves into attention. 
 
 And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause . 
 
 Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense. 
 
 And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself; 
 
 But such a sacred and home-felt delight. 
 
 Such sober certainty of waking bliss, 
 
 I never heard till now. 
 
 Lines 244—264. 
 
 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 wish'd she might 
 Deny her nature, and be never more. 
 Still to be so displaced. I was all ear. 
 And took in strains that might create a soul 
 Under the ribs of Death. 
 
 Liaes 555—563. 
 
 In illustration of Milton's tenderness, we will 
 open almost at a venture. 
 
 Now morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime 
 idvancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, 
 VVhen Adam waked, so custom'd, for his sleep 
 /Vas aery-light, from pure digestion bred, 
 A.nd temp'rate vapours bland, which th' only sound 
 Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan. 
 Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 
 Of birds on every bough ; so much the more 
 
THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. M3 
 
 His wonder was to find unwaken*d Eve 
 With tresses discomposed, and g^lowing cheek 
 As through unquiet rest : he on his side 
 Leaning half-raised, with looks of cordial love 
 Hung- over her en amour 'd, and beheld 
 Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, 
 Shot forth peculiar graces ; then with voice 
 Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes. 
 Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus ; Awake, 
 My fairest, my espoused, 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 tender 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. 
 
 Par. Lost, b. v. lines 1 — 25. 
 
 So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd» 
 But silently a gentle tear let fall 
 From either eye, and wiped 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 remorse 
 And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. 
 
 Ibid. b. V. lines 129—135. 
 
 From this very imperfect view of the qualities 
 of Milton's poetry, we hasten to his great work. 
 Paradise Lost, perhaps the noblest monument of 
 human genius. The two first books, by universal 
 consent, stand pre-eminent in sublimity. Hell 
 and Hell's King have a terrible harmony, and 
 dilate into new grandeur and aw fulness, the longer 
 
14* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 
 
 we contemplate them. From one element, * solid 
 and liquid fire,' the poet has framed a world of 
 horror and suffering, such as imagination had never 
 traversed. But fiercer flames, than those wliicii 
 encompass Satan, burn in his own soul, llevenge, 
 exasperated pride, consuming wrath, ambition 
 though fallen, yet unconquered by the thunders of 
 the Omnipotent, and grasping still at the empire 
 of the universe, — these form a picture more sublime 
 and terrible than Hell. Hell yields to the spirit 
 which it imprisons. The intensity of its fires re- 
 veals the intenser passions and more vehement 
 will of Satan ; and the ruined Archangel gathers 
 into himself the sublimity of the scene which sur- 
 rounds him. This forms the tremendous interest 
 of these wonderful books. We see mind tri- 
 umphant over the most terrible powers of nature. 
 We see unutterable agony subdued by energy of 
 soul. We have not indeed in Satan those bursts 
 of passion, which rive the soul as well as shatter 
 the outward frame of Lear. But we have a depth 
 of passion which only an Archangel could manifest. 
 The all-enduring, all-defying pride of Satan, as- 
 suming so majestically Hell's burning throne, and 
 coveting the diadem, which scorches his thunder- 
 blasted brow, is a creation requiring in its author 
 almost the spiritual energy with which he invests 
 the fallen seraph. Some have doubted whether 
 the moral effect of such delineations of the storms 
 and terrible workings of the soul is good j whether 
 
THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *L5 
 
 the interest felt in a spirit so transcendent.ly evil as 
 Satan, favours our sympathies with virtue. But 
 our interest fastens, in this and like cases, on what 
 is not evil. We gaze on Satan with an awe not 
 unmixed with mysterious pleasure, as on a mira- 
 culous manifestation of the power of mind. What 
 chains us, as with a resistless spell, in such a 
 character, is spiritual might made visible by the 
 racking pains which it overpowers. There is 
 something kindling and ennobling in the conscious- 
 ness, however awakened, of the energy which re- 
 sides in mind ; and many a virtuous man has 
 borrowed new strength from the force, constancy, 
 and dauntless courage, of evil agents. 
 
 Milton's description of Satan attests in various 
 ways the power of his genius. Critics have often 
 observed, that the great difficulty of his work was 
 to reconcile the spiritual properties of his super- 
 natural beings with the human modes of existence, 
 which he was obliged to ascribe to them ; and the 
 difficulty is too great for any genius wholly to 
 overcome, and we must acknowledge that our 
 enthusiasm is in some parts of the poem checked 
 by a feeling of incongruity between the spiritual 
 agent, and his sphere and mode of agency. But 
 we are visited with no such chilling doubts and 
 misgivings in the description of Satan in Hell. 
 Imagination has here achieved its highest triumph, 
 in imparting a character of reality and truth to its 
 most daring creations. That world of horrors, 
 
16* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON 
 
 though material, is yet so remote from our ordinary 
 nature, that a spiritual being, exiled from heaven, 
 finds there an appropriate home. There is, too, 
 an indefinileness in the description of Satan's per- 
 son, which incites without shocking the imagina- 
 tion, and aids us to combine in our conception of 
 him the massiness of a real form with the vague- 
 ness of spiritual existence. To the production of 
 this effect, much depends on the first impression 
 given by the poet ; for this is apt to follow us 
 through the whole work ; and here we think 
 Milton eminently successful. The first glimpse of 
 Satan is given us in the following lines, which, 
 whilst too indefinite to provoke the scrutiny of the 
 reason, fill the imagination of the reader with a 
 form which can hardly be effaced. 
 
 Thus Satan, talkin|^ to his nearest mate 
 With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes 
 That sparkling- blazed, his other parts besides 
 Prone on the flood, extended long- and large, 
 Lay floating many a rood, * * * 
 
 Par. Lost, b. i. lines 192—190. 
 
 Forthwith upright he rears from off" the pool 
 His mighty stature ; on each hand the flames. 
 Driven backward, slope their pointing spires, and roll'd 
 In billows, leave i' th* midst a horrid vale. 
 
 Ibid. 221—224. 
 
 We have more which we should gladly say of 
 the delineation of Satan ; especially of the glimpses 
 which are now and then given of his deep anguish 
 
THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *17 
 
 and despair, and of the touches of better feelings 
 which are skilfully thrown into the dark picture, 
 both suited and designed to blend with our admi- 
 ration, dread, and abhorrence, a measure of that 
 sympathy and interest with which every living, 
 thinking being ought to be regarded, and without 
 which all other feelings tend to sin and pain. 
 But there is another topic which we cannot leave 
 untouched. From Hell we flee to Paradise, a 
 region as lovely as Hell is terrible, and which to 
 those who do not know the universality of true 
 genius, will appear doubly wonderful, when con- 
 sidered as the creation of the same mind which 
 had painted the infernal world. 
 
 Paradise and its inhabitants are in sweet ac- 
 cordance, and together form a*scene of tranquil 
 bliss, which calms and soothes, whilst it delights, 
 the imagination. Adam and Eve, just moulded 
 by the hand, and quickened by the breath of God, 
 reflect in their countenances and forms, as well as 
 minds, the intelligence, benignity, and happiness 
 of their author. Their new existence has the 
 freshness and peacefulness of the dewy morning. 
 Their souls, unsated and untainted, find an inno- 
 cent joy in the youthful creation, which spreads 
 and smiles around them. Their mutual love is 
 deep, for it is the love of young, unworn, unex- 
 hausted hearts, which meet in each other the only 
 human objects on whom to pour forth their fulness 
 of affection ; and still it is serene, for it is the love 
 
18* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY O^ 
 
 of happy beings, who know not suffering even by 
 name, whose innocence excludes not only the 
 tumults but the thought of jealousy and shame, 
 who, * imparadised in one another's arms,' scarce 
 dream of futurity, so blessed is their present being. 
 We will not say that we envy our first parents ; 
 for we feel that there may be higher happiness 
 than theirs, a happiness won through struggle with 
 inward and outward foes, the happiness of power 
 and moral victory, the happiness of disinterested 
 sacrifices and wide-spread love, the happiness of 
 boundless hope, and of * thoughts which wander 
 through eternity.' Still there are times, when the 
 spirit, oppressed with pain, worn with toil, tired of 
 tumult J sick at the sight of guilt, wounded in its 
 love, baffled in itsliope, and trembling in its faith, 
 almost longs for the * wings of a dove, that it might 
 fly away' and take refuge amidst the * shady 
 bowers,' the * vernal airs,' the * roses without 
 thorns,' the quiet, the beauty, the loveliness, of 
 Eden. It is the contrast of this deep peace of 
 Paradise with the storms of life, which gives to the 
 fourth and fifth books of this poem a charm so 
 irresistible, that not a few would sooner relinquish 
 the two first books with all their sublimity, than 
 part with these. It has sometimes been said that 
 the English language has no good pastoral poetry. 
 We would ask, in what age or country has the 
 pastoral reed breathed such sweet strains as are 
 borne to us on * the odoriferous wings of gentle 
 gales' from Milton's Paradise 1 
 
THE POETICAL GENIUS OF MILTON. *19 
 
 We should not fulfil our duty, were we not to 
 say one word on what has been justly celebrated, 
 the harmony of Milton's versification. His numbers 
 Lave the prime charm of expressiveness. They 
 vary with, and answer lo, the depth, or tenderness, 
 or sublimity, of his conceptions, and hold intimate 
 alliance with the soul. Like Michael Angelo, in 
 whose hands the marble was said to be flexible, he 
 bends our language, which foreigners reproach 
 with hardness, into whatever forms the subject 
 demands. All the treasures of sweet and solemn 
 sound are at his command. Words, harsh and 
 discordant in the writings of less gifted m.en, flow 
 through his poetry in a full stream of harmony. 
 This power over language is not to be ascribed to 
 Milton's musical ear. It belongs to the soul. It 
 is a gift or exercise of genius, which has power to 
 impress itself on whatever it touches, and finds or 
 frames in sounds, motions, and material forms, 
 correspondences and harmonies with its own fervid 
 thoughts and feelings. 
 
 W^e close our remarks on Milton's poetry with 
 observing, that it is characterized by seriousness. 
 Great and various as are its merits, it does not 
 discover all the variety of genius, which we find in 
 Shakspeare, whose imagination revelled equally in 
 regions of mirth, beauty, and terror, now evoking 
 spectres, now sporting with fairies, and now ' as- 
 cending the highest heaven of invention.' Milton 
 was cast on times too solemn and eventful, was 
 
20* DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY, &c. 
 
 called to take part in transactions too perilous, 
 and had too perpetual need of the presence of 
 high thoughts and motives, to indulge himself in 
 light and gay creations, even had his genius been 
 more flexible and sportive. But Milton's poetry, 
 though habitually serious, is always healthful, and 
 bright, and vigorous. It has no gloom. He took 
 no pleasure in dravv^ing dark pictures of life ; for 
 he knew by experience, that there is a power in 
 the soul to transmute calamity into an occasion 
 and nutriment of moral power and triumphant 
 virfuc . We find no where in his writings that 
 Wi Ui-ig sensibility and exaggeration of morbid 
 feeling, which makes so much of modern poetry 
 effeminating. If he is not gay, he is not spirit- 
 broken. His L'AllegTO proves, that he understood 
 thoroughly the bright and joyous aspects of nature ; 
 and in his Penseroso, where he was tempted to 
 accumulate images of gloom, we learn that the 
 saddest views which he took of creation, are such 
 as inspire only pensive musia,^ or lofty contem- 
 plation. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK 1. 
 
 THE ARGUMENI. 
 
 This First Book proposes, first, in brief, the whole subject, Man's 
 disobedieiice, and tlie loss theieupoii of Paradise, wherein he was 
 plai-ed : tiien touches the prime cause of his fall, the Serpent, or 
 rather Satan in the serpent; who revoltinp- from God, and draw- 
 ing to his side UKUiy leg-ions of Angels, was, by the command of 
 God, driven out of Heaven, with ail nis crew, into the great deep. 
 Which action passed over, the poem hastens into the midst of 
 tiiiiiirs, presei>tin<}f Satan with his Angels now fallen into Hell, 
 desciibtd liere, not in tlie centre (for Heaven and Earth may he 
 supposed as yet not nrade, certainly not yet accursed) but 'n a 
 l-'iace of utter darkness, fitiiest called Chaos: here Satan wii is 
 Anjreis lying: on the burning' lake, thunderstruck an*i astooi ed, 
 after a certain space recovers, as from confusion, calls u." iijm 
 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 confounded: they rise, their numbers, array 
 of buttle, their chief leaders nau'ed, according to the idols known 
 afterward in Canaan and the countries adjoiinng. To these Satan 
 directs iiis speech, comforts them with hope yet of regaining 
 Fieaven, but tells them lastly of a new world and new kind of 
 creature to be created, according to an ancient prophecy or re- 
 port in Heaven; for that Angels were long- before this visible 
 creation, w;)s the opinion of many ancient fatiiers. To find out 
 the truth of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he 
 refers to a full council. What his associates thence attempt. 
 Pandemoniimi, the palace of Satan, rises, S4iddenly built out oi 
 the deep: the infernal peers there sit in council. 
 
 /'YF man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
 
 ^"^ Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
 
 Brought death into the world, and all our woe. 
 
 With loss of Eden, till one greater man 
 
 Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 5 
 
 1. The fitness and exrpiisite beauty of this introduction to the 
 poem cannot be too much admired. The classical taste and re- 
 iigjniis feelings of the author are both evidenced in it ; the former 
 by the simplicity with which the subject is stated and the invocE- 
 tion of the muse, and the la ttr by his addressing the Holy Spirit 
 as the source of inspiration and light. Great admiration has been 
 expressed by the different commentators on the skilful construc- 
 tion of thes.v»'r!^e in these introductory lines, the pauses of which 
 are so varied as to give a most musical effect to the whole passaare. 
 
 4. St has been supfiosed that Milton intimated in this expressfon 
 his idea of writing Paradise Rt^gained, but it appears to have been 
 suggested merely by the subject of his present contemp'ation. 
 
18 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top 
 
 Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 
 
 That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed 
 
 In the beginning-, how the heav'ns and earth 
 
 Rose out of Chaos. Or if Sion hill 10 
 
 Deliglit thee more, and Siloa's brook that flow'd 
 
 Fatt by the oracle of God ; 1 thence 
 
 Invoke t/iy aid to my advent'rous song. 
 
 That with no middle flight intends to soar 
 
 Above th' Aonian mount, while it pursues 15 
 
 Things unattempted yet, in prose or rhyme. 
 
 And chiefly Thou, O Sp'rit, that dost prefer 
 
 Before ail temples th' upright heart and pure, 
 
 Instruct me, for Thou know'st : Thou from the first 
 
 Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread 20 
 
 Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast ab^-ss. 
 
 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 
 
 1 may assert eternal Providence, iS 
 
 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 what cause 
 Moved our grand parents, in that happy state, 
 Favour'd of Heav'n so highly, to fall off 30 
 
 From their Creator, r^nd trangress his will 
 For one restraint, lords of the world besides ? 
 Who first seduced them to that foul revolt? 
 Th' infernal Serpent: he it was whose guile, 
 Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived 35 
 
 The mother of mankind, what time his pride 
 Had cast him out tVom Heav'n, with all his host 
 Of rebel Angels ; by whose aid aspiring 
 
 6. Bentley proposed the chang-in<r of this epithet into sacred, 
 but his opinion lias been suoces^fiiUy confuted, it having' been 
 nhevvn that the former word is peculiarly applicable to Oreb or 
 Sinai, which had been so awfully ob^:;cured at the gi^ing• of tl)e law. 
 
 8. Moses; who, wc are toid, Exod. iii. 1. kept the tiock of 
 Jethro his futlier-in-hiw. 
 
 11. Siloa was a fountain flowing- near the temple of Jerusalem. 
 
 15. Th' Aonian mount; tlie classical seat, of the Muses. 
 
 16. It lias been supposed ti.at Milton took tiie idea of writina: a 
 poem on the loss of Paradise, fioni an Ital'ian tra<^edy called * II 
 Paradise Perso,' but little wcig-ht can be placed on this opinion, 
 when it is considered that both his a-enius and the most favourite 
 of his studies led him contiiiuaily to relig-ious coniempiatioa. 
 
BOOK 1. 19 
 
 To set himself m g-lory 'bove iiis peers, 
 
 He trusted to haA-e equall'd the Most High, 40 
 
 If he opposed; and with aiiibitious aim 
 
 Against the throne and monarchy of God, 
 
 Raised impious war in Heav'n, and battle proud 
 
 With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Fower 
 
 Hurl'd headlong- llaming from th' ethereal sky, 4fi 
 
 With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
 
 To bottomless perdition ; there to dwell 
 
 in adamantine chains and penal fire, 
 
 JVho durdt defy th' Omnipotent to arms. 
 
 Nine times tlie space that measures day and night 50 
 
 To mortal me^i, he with his horrid crew 
 
 Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf, 
 
 Confounded though immortal : But his doom 
 
 Reserved him to more wrath ; for now the thought 
 
 Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 55 
 
 Torments him ; round he throws his baleful eyes, 
 
 That witness'd huge affliction and dismay, 
 
 Mix'd v/ith obdurate pride and steadfast hate : 
 
 At once, as far as angels' ken, he views 
 
 The dismal situation waste and wild : 60 
 
 A dungeon horrible on all sides round. 
 
 As one great furnace flamed ; yet from those flames 
 
 No light ; but rather darkness visible 
 
 Served only to discover sights of woe, 
 
 Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 65 
 
 And rest can never dwell : hope never comes, 
 
 That comes to all : but torture without end 
 
 Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed 
 
 With ever-burning- sulphur unconsumed : 
 
 Such place eternal justice had prepared 78 
 
 For those rebellious ; here their pris'n ordain'd 
 
 In utter darkness, and their portion set 
 
 As far removed from God and light of heaven. 
 
 As from the centre thrice to th' utmost pole. 
 
 44. This whole description of the fall of the angels and of the 
 infernal abyss is conceived in the noblest style of poetry; the 
 flaming-, rushing- fall of the apostate ang-els, and the dark but fiery 
 prison which received theiu, are jerhaps the most sublime pictures 
 which the human iniag-ination ever produced. 
 
 74. It is a curious observation, that Homer places Hell as far 
 oeneath the earth as Heaven is above it; Virgil makes it twice as 
 distant, and Milton here thrice as far, 
 
20 PARADISE L08T. 
 
 O bow unlike the place from whence tliey fell! 75 
 There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelrn'd 
 With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, 
 He soon discerns, and v/elt'ring- by his side 
 One next himself in power, and next in crime, 
 Long- after known in Palestine, and named 80 
 
 Beelzebub. To whom th' Arch-Enemy, 
 And thonce in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words 
 Breaking the horrid silence thus began : 
 
 If thou beest he ; but O how fallen ! how chang'ed 
 From him who, in the happy realms of light 85 
 
 Cloth'd with transcendent brightness didst outshine 
 Myriads though bright I If he whom mutual league. 
 United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 
 And hazard in the glorious entei^prise, 
 Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd DO 
 
 In equal ruin : into what pit thou seest 
 From what height fall'n, so much the stronger proved 
 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 95 
 
 Can else inflict, do I repent or change, 
 Though changed in outward lustre, that fix'd mind 
 And high disdain from sense of injured merit, 
 That with the Mightiest raised me to contend, 
 And to the fierce contention brought along* 100 
 
 Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd. 
 That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring. 
 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'' 
 ^AU is not lost; th' unconquerable will 106 
 
 And study of revenge, immortal hate. 
 And courage never to submit or yield : 
 And what is else not to be overcome 1 
 That glory never shall his wrath or might 110 
 
 81. Beelzebub, or the Lord of Flies, was worshipped at Ekron, 
 2 King's, i. 2. see also MaU. xii. 24. 
 
 82. Satan in Hebrew means an encmv- 
 
 84. The first speech of Satan is very noble, and the abrnpt 
 manner of its commencement is powerfiilly striking-. Imitations 
 have been pointed out in this passage, of Isaiah xiv. Virgil, Mxu 
 ii. 274. and Homer, Odvss. vi. 110. Others have also been re- 
 marked of iEscbylus, Tasso, kc, but they seem to me to have been 
 coincidences rather than imitations. 
 
BOOK I. 21 
 
 Extort from me. To bow and sae for grace 
 
 With suppliant knee, and deify his pow'r, 
 
 Wiio from the terror of this arm so late 
 
 Doubted his empire ; that were low indeed ! 
 
 That were an ignominy and shame beneath 115 
 
 This downfall ; since by fate the strength of Gods 
 
 And tliis empyreal substance cannot fail. 
 
 Since through experience of this great event 
 
 In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced. 
 
 We may with more successful hope reaolve 120 
 
 To wag-e by force cr guile eternal war, 
 
 Irreconcileable to our grand foe, 
 
 Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy 
 
 Sole reigning holds the tyranny of heav*n. 
 
 So spake th' apostate Angel, though in pain, 125 
 Vaunting aloud, bat rack'd with deep despair : 
 And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer. 
 
 O Prince, O Chief of many throned power? ' 
 That led th' embattled Seraphim to war 
 Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds 130 
 
 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 135 
 
 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 peiish : for the mind and spirit remains 
 Invincible, and vigour soon returns, 140 
 
 Though all our glory extinct, and happy state 
 Here swallow'd up in endless misery. 
 Rut what if he our conqu'ror (whom I now 
 Of force believe almighty, since no less 
 Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours) 
 Have left us this our spirit and strength entire 146 
 Strongly to suffer and support our pains. 
 That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, 
 
 116. Sntan expresses by the word fate, his hiffh and proud be- 
 lief ill the orig-innl and underived existence as well as immor- 
 tality of tlie ariL'^els. Here is an admirable attention to the minutest 
 circiimstaiices which might develope the character rf the fallen 
 spirit evident throuehout the speech, and the reader's attention 
 cannot be too strongly directed to its examination. 
 
22 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Or do him mightier service as his thralls 
 
 By rig-ht of war, whate'er his business be 150 
 
 Here in the heart of Hell to work iu fire, 
 
 Or do his eirands in the gloomy deep ; 
 
 What can it then avail, though yet we ieel 
 
 Strength undiminish'd, or eternal beini^ 
 
 To undergo eternal punishment? 155 
 
 Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-Fiend reply'd : 
 
 Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miserable 
 Doing' or suffering : but of this be sure, 
 To do aught good never will be our task, 
 But ever to do ill our sole delight, 160 
 
 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 iind means of evil ; 16! 
 
 Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps 
 Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb 
 His inmost counsels from their destined aim. 
 But see, the angry victor hath recall'd 
 His ministers of vengeance and pursuit 17' 
 
 Back to tlie gates of Heav'n ; the sulph'rous hail 
 Shot after us in stomi, o'erblown hath laid 
 The fiery surge, that from the precipice 
 Of Heav'n received us falling ; and the thunder, 
 Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage, 175 
 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, 180 
 The seat of desolation, void of light, 
 Save what the glimm'ring of these livid flames 
 Casts pale and dreadful ? Thither let us tend 
 From off the tossing of these fiei"y waves. 
 There rest, if any rest can harbour there, 185 
 
 170. Dr. Bemley has pointed out a contradiction between this 
 passag-e and one in the sixth book. It is here said that tlie good 
 aug-els pursued the fallen ones down to hell ; in the other place, 
 It is asserted, that the Messiah alone expelled them from lieaven. 
 The variation has been accounted for by tiie account being given 
 by different relators— The one by the discomfited Satan, the other 
 ov ilie angel Raphael. 
 
BOOK I. 2'c 
 
 And reassembling- our afHicted powers, 
 Consult how we may henceforth most offend 
 Our enemy, our own loss how reps^ir, 
 How overcome this dire calamity. 
 What reinforcement we may g-ain from hope 100 
 If not wliat resolution from despair. 
 /'^ Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate 
 f With head uplift above the wave, and eyes 
 That sparkling- blazed, his other parts besides 
 Prone on the flood, extended long- and large, 195 
 Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge - 
 As whom the fables name of monstrous size ; J 
 Titanian, or Earth-born, that Avarr'd on Jove, 
 Briareos, or Typhon, whom the den 
 By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea-beast 200 
 
 Leviathan, which God of all his works 
 Created Lugest that sv.'im the ocean stream; 
 Him haply slumb'ring on the Norway foam 
 The pilot of some small night-founder'd skiff 
 Dreming some island, oft, as seamen tell, 205 
 
 With fixed anchor in his scaly rind 
 Moors by his side under the lee, while night 
 Invests tlie sea, and wished morn delays : 
 So stretch'd out huge in length the Arch-Fiend lay 
 Chain'd on the burning lake, nor ever thence 210 
 Had ris'n or heaved 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 o,n himself damnation, while he sought 215 
 Evil to others, and enraged might see 
 How all his malice served but to bring forth 
 
 196. Virg-il describes the bulk of one of the giants in the same 
 manner. JEn. vi. 596. 
 
 199. Typhon or Typhanis was one of the rebel giants, and 
 Imprisoned by Jnpuer under Mount iEtna, or, as others say, in a 
 c■<l^e near Tarsus, a city in Cilicia. 
 
 201. It has been qnestioned whether IMilton supposed the Levia- 
 than to be a whale or a crocodile. — It is most probable his ima- 
 2-i nation maite him content with the description of this animal 
 given in Job, and thnt his critical industry was not at all engaged 
 In settling the question. 
 
 204. Bentley has given a curious instance of his utter want 
 of poetical feeling in proposing to change this epithet nighl- 
 fovndcred into vigh-fo-iindered. 
 
 209. riiis verse,"by its laboured length, well expresses the idea 
 of Satan » immense bulk. 
 
24 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy shewn 
 On Man, by liim seduced ; but on himself 
 Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance pour'd. 220 
 /Forthwitlj upright he rears from olf the pool 
 ^ Hits 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 his flight 223 
 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 w^ith liquid fire^J 
 And such appear'd in hue, as when the force 23fl 
 Of subterranean wind transports a hill 
 Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter'd side 
 Of thund'ring ^tna, whose combustible 
 And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire, 
 Sublimed with min'ral fui-y, aid the winds, 235 
 
 And leave a singed bottom all involved 
 With stench and smoke : such resting found the sole 
 Of unblest feet. Him follow'd his next mate, 
 Both glorying to have 'scap'd the Stygian flood 
 As Gods, and by their own recover'd strength, 24(i 
 Not by the sufF'rance 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 heav'n, this mournful gloom 
 For that celestial light ? Be it so, since he 245 
 
 Who now is Sovran 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. y Farewell happy fields, 
 Wbere joy for ever dwells :\Hail horrors, hail 250 
 Infernal world, and thoii profoundest Hell 
 Receive thy new possessor ; one v/ho brings 
 A mind not to be changed 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. 255 
 
 225. Said to be borrowed from Spenser, Book i. Canto 2. 
 
 231. Winds is sonietinies read instead of wind. 
 
 232. Pelorus is a Sicilian promontory now called Capo di Faro. 
 24f). Sovran is abridg-ed from the Italian Sovrano. 
 
 254. Tliip sentiment is t!ie i^reat foundation on which the Stoics 
 buili their whole system, of F.tliif's. 
 
BOOK I. 25 
 
 What matter where, if I he still the same^j 
 
 And what I should be, all but less than he 
 
 Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least 
 
 We shall be free ; th' Almighty hath not built 
 
 Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : 260 
 
 Here we may reign secTire, and in my choice 
 
 To reign is worth ambition, though in hell ; 
 
 Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven. 
 
 But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, 
 
 Th' associates and copartners of our loss, 265 
 
 Lie thus astonish 'd on th' oblivious pool. 
 
 And call them n Dt to share with us their part 
 
 In this unhappy mansion, or once more 
 
 With rallied arms to try what may be yet 
 
 Regain'd in heav'n, or what more lost in Hell ? 27'' 
 
 So Satan spake ; and him Beelzebub 
 Thus answer'd : Leader of those armies brig-ht, 
 Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foil'd, 
 If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge 
 Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft 275 
 
 In worst extremes, and on the perilous edg'e 
 Of battle when it raged, in all assaults 
 Their surest signal, they will soon resume 
 New courage and revive, though now they lie 
 Grov'ling and prostrate on yon lake of fire, 280 
 
 As we ere while, astounded and amazed. 
 No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious height. 
 
 He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend 
 Was moving tow'rd the shore ; his pond'rous shield, 
 Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, 285 
 
 Behind him cast ; the broad circumference 
 Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose oi'b 
 Thro ugh optic glass the Tuscan artist views 
 At evening from the top of Fesole, 
 Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 290 
 
 Rivers, or mountains, on her spotty globe. 
 His spear, to equal which the tallest pine 
 
 263. The same sentiment is put by jEschylns into the month of 
 Prometheus, and it was the well-known saying of Julius Ca;sar, 
 that he would rather be the first man in a village, than the second 
 in Rome. 
 
 287. So Homer and Ossian compare the shields of their heroes. 
 
 289. Fesole and Valdarno, the one a city, the other a valley, iu 
 Tuscany. 
 
^G PARADISE LUST. 
 
 Hewn on Norweg-ian liills, to be the mast 
 
 Of some great ammiral, were but a wand, 
 
 He walk'd with to support uneasy steps 295 
 
 Over the burning marie ; not like those steps 
 
 On Heaven's azure, and the torrid clime 
 
 Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire : 
 
 Nathless he so endured, till on the beach 
 
 Of that infla^ied sea he stood, and call'd 300 
 
 His legions, Vngel forms, who lay entranced 
 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooka 
 
 In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades 
 
 High over-arch*d imbow'r ; or soatter'd sedge 
 
 Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd ^J05 
 
 Hath vex'd the Red Sea coast, whose waves o'erthrew 
 
 Busiris and his Memphian chivalry*^, 
 
 While with perfidious hatred they^ursued 
 
 The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld 
 
 From the safe shore their floating carcases 310 
 
 And broken chariot wheels : so thick bestrown. 
 
 Abject and lost lay these, covering the flood. 
 
 Under amazement of their hideoiis change. 
 
 He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep 
 
 Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates, 315 
 
 Wan-iors, the flow'r of heav'n, once yours, now lost. 
 
 If such astonishment as this can seize 
 
 Eternal spirits ; or have ye chos'n this place 
 
 After the toil of battle to repose 
 
 Your weaiied virtue, for the ease you find 320 
 
 To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven? 
 
 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 325 
 
 293. Milton here ag'ain enlarges on the idea of the ^reat pi'^- 
 ceding- poets, who had given their heroes a pine for their wands 
 or spears. 
 
 294. Ammiral from the German aniiral or the Italian ammirn^lio. 
 303. A famous valley in Tuscany. The name is compounded of 
 
 vallis and umbra. 
 
 305. Orion is the most stormy of the constellations, and, as the 
 Red Sea abounds with sedg-e, it is here represented as exercising 
 its influence over it. 
 
 307. Pharaoh has been supposed to be the same with Busiri'^. 
 which opinion Milton appears to have held. Chivalry is ustd in 
 the poets to denote, not only those who fight on horses, but those 
 who go to battle in chariots drav- by them. 
 
BOOK I. 27 
 
 His swift pursuers from heav'n gates discern 
 Th' advantage, and descending tread us down 
 Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts 
 Transiix us to the bottom of this gulf. 
 Awake, arise, or be for ever fall'n. 330 
 
 They heard, and were abash'd, and up they sprung 
 Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch 
 On duty, sleeping found by whom they <iread. 
 Rouse and bestir themselves ere well a ake. 
 Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 335 
 
 In wiiich they were, or the fierce pains not feel; 
 Yet to their gen'ral's > oice they soon obey'd 
 Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
 Of Aniram's son, in Egypt's evil day. 
 Waved round the coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud 340 
 Of locusts, wai'ping on the eastern wind, 
 Tbat o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung 
 Like night, and darken'd all the land of Nile: 
 So numberless were those bad Angels seen 
 Hov'ring on wing under the cope of Hell 345 
 
 ' Twixt upper, nether, and suiTOunding- fires ; 
 Till, as a signal giv'n, th' uplifted spear 
 Of their gi-eat Sultan waving to direct 
 Their course, in even balance down they light 
 On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain ; 350 
 /a multitude, like which the populous north 
 iPour'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.!' 355 
 
 Forthwith from ev'ry squadron and eacih band 
 The heads and leaders thither haste where stood 
 Their great commander ; Godlike shapes and forms 
 Excelling human, princely dignities. 
 And Pow'rs that erst in Heaven sat on thrones ; 360 
 Though of their names in heav'nly records now 
 Re no memorial, blotted out and rased 
 By their rebellion from the books of life. 
 
 329<. An allusion is here made to tlie story of Ajax Oileus, 
 Ami. i. 44. 
 
 33B, See Exodus x. 13. 
 
 353. Instead of book, to answer better to the plural records usf«l 
 before, and to the immense number of ang'els. 
 
28 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Nor had tliey yet among- the sous of Eve 364 
 
 Got them new uameii, till waiid'ring o'er the earth. 
 
 Thro' God's high sutF'rance 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 transfonn 37C 
 
 Oft to the image of a brute, adorn'd 
 
 With gay religions full of pomp and gold, 
 
 And Devils to adore for Deities : 
 
 Then were they knovi^n to men by various nameK, 
 
 And various idols through the Heathen world. 375 
 
 Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, who 
 
 Roused fi'om the slumber, on that fiery couch, [last 
 
 At their great emp'ror's call, as next in worth 
 
 Came singly whei-e he stood on the bare strand. 
 
 While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 380 
 
 The chief were those who from the pit of Hell 
 
 Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix 
 
 Their seats long after next the seat of God, 
 
 Their altars by his altar, Gods adored 
 
 Among the nations round, and durst abide 385 
 
 Jehovah thund'ring out of Sion, throned 
 
 Between the Cherubim ; yea, often placed 
 
 Within his sanctuary itself their shrines. 
 
 Abominations; and with cursed things 
 
 His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned, 390 
 
 And with their darkness durst affront his light. 
 
 First Moloch, horrid king, besmear'd with blood 
 
 Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears. 
 
 Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud 
 
 366. See Rom. chap. i. 
 
 375. Tlie catalogue of tlie evil spirits is a great proof botli of the 
 art and the imag'inatioii of Milton. It is far superior in descrip- 
 tion, as well as fitness, to those in Homer and Virg-il, and forms 
 a part of the poem which could not be removed without great 
 injury to its completeness. 
 
 386". God dwelt in a visible glory between the cherubim ia tlie 
 Holy of Holies of the temple on Mount Sion. 
 
 392. Moloch has been su()posed to be the Saturn of the heathens. 
 The Scri|!tures say that parents made their children pass tliroui^h 
 the tire to him, not perhaps in sacrifice always, but as a rite of con- 
 secration to him. Rabba was the capital of the Ammonites, and 
 Artiob and Basan neiirhbouring' countries. Gehenna, or the valley 
 of Hinnom, near Jerusalem, is made in the New Testament a iy!;e 
 f>f hell, as it was there that a fire was kept up to consume the 
 s.;;crifices offered to this idol. 
 
BOOK i. 29 
 
 Tiieir children's cries iinheard, that pass'd thro' fire 
 To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 396 
 
 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 neig-hbourhood, the wisest heart 400 
 
 Of Solomon he led by fraud to build 
 lliH temple right against the temple' of God, 
 On that opprobrious hill ; and made his grove 
 The pleasant vale of Hinnom, Tophet thence 
 And black Gehenna call'd, the type of Hell. 405 
 
 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 
 i^Tiie flowery dale of Sibma clad with vines>j, 410 
 
 And Eleale to th' Asphaltic pool. 
 Peor his other name, Avhen he enticed 
 Israel in Sittiin, on their march from Nile, 
 To do him v/anton rites, which cost them woe. 
 Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged 415 
 
 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 420 
 
 Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 
 Of Bajiijm and Ashtaroth ; those male. 
 These feminine : for spirits, when they please, 
 Can eitiier sgk assume, or both; so soft 
 A lid uncompounded is their essence pure 425 
 
 Not tied nor manacled with joint or limb; 
 Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones. 
 Like cumbrous flesh ; but, in what shape they choose 
 
 403. Chemosh is thus mentioned next to Moloch because their 
 nriiues are united in Scripture, see 1 King's xi. 7. This idoJ is 
 g.ij))>i»sed to be the same with Baal-Peor and witli Priapus, see 
 also N'umbers xxv. 2 Kin.n-s xxiii. 
 
 417. The iiniire contained in this verse conveys a strong- moral 
 truth. Had it not been, however, that the music of the verstj 
 wodid have been injured, the idea would have ^een more correct 
 by the traiisi)nsition of the words hist and hate. — See Faery Queen^ 
 B. 3, Can. 12. 
 
 422. The Gods of Syria, Palestine, &c. 
 
 428. Speculations about the nature of spirits were a favourite 
 iUHiseinent with learned men a few cent'Ties back. Milton doubt- 
 
30 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure. 
 Can execute their aery purposes, 430 
 
 And works of love or enmity fulfil. 
 For those the race of Israel oft forsook 
 Their living" Strength, and unfrequented left 
 His righteous altar, bow^ing- lowly down 
 To bestial gods ; for which their heads as low 435 
 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 heaven, with crescent horns ; 
 To whose bright image nightly by the moon 440 
 
 Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs; 
 In Sion also not unsxmg, where stood 
 Her temple on th' offensive mountain, built 
 By that uxorious king, whose heart, though large, 
 Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell 445 
 
 To idols foul, ^hammu/i came next behind. 
 Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured 
 The Syi-ian damsels to lament his fate 
 In amorous ditties all a summer's day; 
 \ While smooth Adonis from his native rock 450 
 
 Ran purple to the sea,\Supposed with blood 
 Of Thammuz yearly wounded;] the love-tale 
 Infected Sion's daughters witbrlike heat; 
 Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch 
 Ezekiel sav7, v/hen by the vision led, 455 
 
 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 lopp'd off 
 In his own temple, on the grunsel edge, 460 
 
 Where he fell flat, and shamed his worshippers : 
 Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man 
 And downward fish : yet had his temple high 
 Rear'd in Azotas, dreaded through the coast 
 
 less pariooK in ttie interest. The work from which he is supposed 
 to liave taken most wis by Psellus, an author who composed a 
 dialogue on the subject. 
 
 438. For mention of this idol, see Jeremiah vii. 18. xiiv. 17, 18. 
 also 1 Kinsrs xi. 5. 2 Kinps xxiii. 13. 
 
 446. Thammuz, or Adonis, was the Gfod of the Syrians. He was 
 &lain by a bear on nioint Lebanon, from which the river of the 
 tame name descended. 
 
 462. For tlie expl;in;ition of this passag'e, see I Sam. v. 4. vi. 17. 
 
BOOK 1. 31 
 
 Of Palestine, in Gatli and Ascalon, 465 
 
 And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. 
 
 Hlcn follow'd Rimmon, whose delightful seat 
 
 Wasffair Damascus, on the fertile hanks 
 
 Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams! 
 
 He also 'gainst the house of God was bold : 470 
 
 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, Avhereon to burn 
 
 His odious offerings, and adore the gods 475 
 
 Whom he had vanquish'd. After these appear'd 
 
 A crew, who, under names of old renown, 
 
 Osiris, Iris, Orus, and their train. 
 
 With monstrous shapes and sorceries abused 
 
 Fanatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 480 
 
 Their wandering gods disguised in brutish forms 
 
 Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape 
 
 Th' infection, when their borrowed gold composed 
 
 The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king 
 
 Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 485 
 
 Likening his Maker to the grazed ox ; 
 
 Jehovah, who in one night when he pass'd 
 
 From Eg-ypt marching, equall'd with one stroke 
 
 Both her first-born, and all her bleating gods. 
 
 Belial came last, than whom a spirit more lewd 490 
 
 Fell not from heaven, or more gross to love 
 
 Vice for itself : to whom no temple stood, 
 
 Nor altar smoked ; yet who more oft than he 
 
 In temples and at altars, when the priest 
 
 Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who fill'd 495 
 
 With lust and violence the house of God 1 
 
 In 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 500 
 
 Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons 
 
 467. Rittimon was a g-od of the Syrians. The leper mentioned 
 was Naanian, see 2 Kin^s v. 
 
 47S. The principal deities of the Egyptians. 
 
 490. Belial and Moloch have situations awarded them according 
 to their characters; the one last because the most slothful, the 
 other first because the most violent. 
 
S2 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. 
 
 Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night 
 
 In Gibeah, when the hospitable door 
 
 Exposed a matron, to avoid worse rape. JOS 
 
 These were the prime in order and in mig'ht : 
 
 The rest were long to tell, though far renown'd, 
 
 Th' Ionian gods, of Javan's issue held 
 
 Gods, yet confess'd later than Heaven and Earth, 
 
 Their boasted parents : Titan, Heav'n's first-born, 510 
 
 With his enormous brood, and birthright seized 
 
 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 515 
 
 Of cold Olympus, ruled the middle air. 
 
 Their highest heav'n ; or on the Delphian cliff. 
 
 Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 
 
 Of Doric land ; or who with Saturn old 
 
 Fled over Adria to th' Hesperian fields, 520 
 
 And o'er the Celtic roam'd the utmost isles. 
 
 All these and more came flocking ; but with looks 
 Downcast and damp ; yet such wherein appear'd 
 Obscure some glimpse of joy, to have found their 
 
 chief 
 Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost 520 
 In loss itself: which on his count'nance cast 
 Like doubtful hue : but he, his wonted pride 
 Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore 
 Semblance of w^orth, not substance, gently raised 
 Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears. 530 
 Then straight commands, that at tlie warlike sound 
 Of trumpets loud and clarions be uprear'd 
 His mighty standard ; that proud honour claim'd 
 Azazel as his right, a cherub tall ; 
 Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfarl'd 535 
 Th' imperial ensign; which, full high advanced, 
 Shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind, 
 
 502. Blown has been proposed ns another readinof. 
 
 o08. From Javan were descended the fonians and Grecians, 
 anions whom arose the g'ods of the later mythology. 
 
 530. Their fainted courage in the first edition. 
 
 534. Azazel, according- to its derivation, means brave in re- 
 trealing. The description in this passage is remarkaVJy mag- 
 nificent* 
 
BOOK I. 33 
 
 With gems and golden lustre rich emblazed 
 
 Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while 
 
 Sonorous metal blowing- martial sounds : 540 
 
 At which the universal host up-sent 
 
 A «hout, 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, f'Tj 
 
 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 immeasurable : anon they move 
 
 In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 550 
 
 Of flutes and soft recorders ; such as raised 
 
 To height of noblest temper heroes old 
 
 Arming to battle ; and instead of rage , 
 
 Deliberate valour breath'd, firm and unmoved 
 
 With dread of death to flight or foal retreat : 555 
 
 Nor wanting power to mitigate and 'suage, 
 
 VV^ith 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, vrith fixed thought, 560 
 
 Moved on in silence, to soft pipes, that charm'd 
 
 Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil : and now 
 
 Advanced in view they stand ; a horrid front 
 
 Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise 
 
 Of wai-riors old with order'd spear and shield, 560 
 
 Awaiting what command their mighty chief 
 
 Had to impose : he through the armed files 
 
 Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse 
 
 The whole battalion views, their order due. 
 
 Their visages and stature as of gods : 570 
 
 Their number last he sums. And now his heart 
 
 Distends with pride, and hardening in his strength 
 
 Glories ; for never since created man 
 
 Met such embodied force, as, named with these, 
 
 Could merit more than that small infantry 575 
 
 Warr'd on by cranes : though all the giant brood 
 
 543 RoUn used like the Latin resrnum, for kingdom. 
 
 550. There were three kinds of music among the ancients. 
 
 The Lydiin, the most melancholy; the Plirygian, the most lively ; 
 
 and the Dorian, the most niajeslic. Milton has been very exact 
 
 In employing music fit for each particular purpose. 
 
 C 2 
 
34 PxVRADISE LOST. 
 
 Of Phlegra with tli' heroic race were join'd 
 
 That foug-ht at Thebes and Ilium, on each side 
 
 Mix'd with auxiliar g-ods ; and what resounds 
 
 In fable or romance of Uther's son 580 
 
 Begirt witli British and Armoric knights ; 
 
 And all who since, baptized or iniidel, 
 
 Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, 
 
 Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, 
 
 Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore, 585 
 
 When Charlemag-ne with all his peerage fell 
 
 By Fontarabia. Thus far these beyond 
 
 Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed 
 
 Their dread commander: he, above the rest 
 
 In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 590 
 
 Stood like a tower ; his form had not yet lost 
 
 All her original brightness, nor appear'd 
 
 Less than archangel ruin'd, and the excess 
 
 Of glory obscured; las when the sun, new risen. 
 
 Looks through the horizontal misty air 595 
 
 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 the Arch-angel : but his face COO 
 
 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 his eye, but cast 
 
 Signs of remorse and passion, to behold 605 
 
 The fellows of his crime, the followers rathei 
 
 (Far other once b< held in bliss), condemn'd 
 
 For ever now to 1 ave their lot in pain : 
 
 Millions of Spinas for his fault amerced 
 
 Of heaven, and trora eternal splendours flung 610 
 
 For his revolt, vet faithful how they stood, 
 
 Their glorv wifMer'd : as when Heav'n's fire 
 
 Hath scatbvl f)ie forest oaks, or mountain pines, 
 
 577. Phlep-f a was a citv of Macedonia. 
 
 580. Uthc's P'^n was "King- Arthur: this and the following al- 
 lusions are f'erivetl from the old romances on the subject. Char- 
 lemag'ne is aid not to have died ai Fontarabia, but some years 
 after, and «ii ptacfc. 
 
 609. Ani'-rcea. deprived of. 
 
 611. The ronrtruction requires a reference to the verb, behold^ 
 nt line fi05. 
 
BOOK I. 35 
 
 With singed top their stately grc-wth tho' bare 
 Stands on the blasted hrjath. He now prepared 615 
 To speak; whereat their doubled ranks they bend 
 Prom wing- to wing-, and half inclose him round 
 With all his peers. Attention held them mute. 
 . Thrice he assay'd, and thriee, in spite of scorn, 
 V Fears, such as angels weep,Jburst forth. At last 62® 
 |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, 
 tVs this place testifies, and this dire change, 625 
 
 Hateful to utter; but what power 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 ; 630 
 For who can yet believe, though after loss. 
 That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
 Hath emptied Heav'n, shall fail to re-ascend 
 Self-raised, and repossess their native seat ? 
 For me, be witness all the host of Heav'n, 635 
 
 If counsels different, or danger 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 640 
 
 Put forth at full, bat still his strength conceal'd, 
 AMiich tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. 
 Henceforth his might we know, and know our own, 
 So as not either to provoke or dread 
 New war, provoked ; our better part remains 645 
 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 658 
 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 Heav'n : 
 
 G33. A third part cf the angels is sui)posed to have faller, set 
 Kev. xii. 4. 
 
36 PARADlSb LOST. 
 
 Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps (355 
 
 Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere : 
 For this infernal pit shall never hold 
 Celestial Spirits in bondag-e, nor th' abyss 
 Long under darkness cover. But these thoug-hts 
 Full counsel must mature : Peace is despair'd, 6OT 
 For who can think submission ? War then. War, 
 Open or understood, mast be resolved. 
 
 He spake : and, to confirm his woi'ds, out flew 
 / Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs 
 I Of mighty Cherubim : the sudden blaze 665 
 
 I Far round illumined Hell. Highly they raged 
 I Against the highest, and fierce with grasped arms 
 * Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war, 
 Hurling defiance tow'rd the vault of Heaven. 
 
 There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 670 
 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 stilphur. Thither wing'd with speed 
 A num'rous brigade hasten'd : as when bands 675 
 Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe arm'd. 
 Forerun 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 Heav'n his looks and 
 
 thoughts 680 
 
 Were always downward bent, admiring more 
 The ricKes of Heav'n's pavement, trodden gold. 
 Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd 
 In vision beatific. By him first 
 
 Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 685 
 
 Ransack'd the centre, and with 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 690 
 That riches grow in Hell; that soil may best 
 
 664. Drawn from tlie thig'hs, a Greek and poetical mode of 
 expressing this idea. 
 
 673. Womb is here used in the wide sense of the Latin Uterus. 
 
 678. Mammon is a Syrian word, and means riches. 
 
 684. The miners believe in a sort of Devils who freciuent the 
 mines, ajad sometimes work there 
 
BOOK f. 37 
 
 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 their greatest monuments of fame, 695 
 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. 
 T^igh on the plain in many cells prepared, 70u 
 
 That underneath had veins of liijuid lire 
 Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude 
 With wond'rous art founded the massy ore, 
 Severing each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross ; 
 A third as soon had form'd within the ground 7ii"^ 
 A various mould, and from the boiling cells 
 By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook, 
 As in an organ, from one blast of wind, 
 To many a row of pipes, the sound-board breathes. 
 4non out of the earth a fabric huge 710 
 
 Rose like an exhalation, \with the sound 
 Ofaulcet symphonies and voices sweet,! 
 jBuilt like a temple, where pilasters round 
 Were set, and Doric pillars\overiaid 
 With golden architrave; noV did there want 715 
 Corn7ce or frieze, with bossy sculptures grav'n^ 
 The roof was fi-etted gold. Not Babylon, 
 Nor great Alcairo such magnificence 
 EqvAll'd in all their glories, to inshrine 
 Belns or Serapis their Gods, or seat 720 
 
 Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove 
 In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile 
 Stood fix'd her stately height ; and straight the doors, 
 Op'ning their brazen folds, discover Avide 
 Within her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 725 
 
 And level pavement. From the arched roof, 
 Pendant by subtle magic, many a row 
 Of starry lamps and blazing cressets,! fed 
 
 695. Strength and art are to be construed with monuments m 
 the nominative. 
 
 708. A new and beautiful comparison — Milton was a performer 
 on the organ himself. 
 
 720. Belus was the son of Nimrod, and the first man wor- 
 sliipped as a God. He was called Bel, and Baal. 
 728. Cr'isset, any greitt li&ht. 
 C2 
 
38 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With Naphtha and Asphaltus, yielded light 
 
 As from a sky. The hasty multitude 730 
 
 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 sceptred ang-els held their residence. 
 
 And sat as princes ; whom the supreme King- 735 
 
 Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, 
 
 Each in his hierarchy, the ordei-s bright. 
 
 Nor was his name iiiiheard or u7iadored 
 
 In ancient Greece ;|and in Ausonian land 
 
 Men caird him Mulciber ; and how he fell 740 
 
 From heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove 
 
 Sheer o'er the crystal battlements: from morn 
 
 To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, 
 
 A summer's day ; and with the setting sun 
 
 l^ropt from the zenith like a falling star, 745 
 
 On Lemnos, th' JEgean isle : thus they relate. 
 
 Erring ; for he with this rebellious rout 
 
 Fell long before ; >,nor ought 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 750 
 
 With his industrious crew to build in hell. 
 
 Meanwhile, the winged heralds, by command 
 Of sovereign power, with awful ceremony 
 And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim 
 A solemn council, fcn^thwith to be held 755 
 
 At Pandemonium, the high capital 
 Of Satan and his peers: their summons caU'd 
 From every band and squared regiment 
 By place or choice the worthiest: they anon. 
 With hundreds and with thousands, trooping came. 
 Attended : all access was throng'd : the gates 701 
 And porches wide, but chief the spacious hail 
 (Though like a cover'd field, where champiims bold 
 Wont ride in arm'd, and at the soldan'a chair 
 Defied the best of Panim chivalry 766 
 
 To mortal combat, or career with lance). 
 Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the i^h', 
 Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees 
 In spring time, when the sun with Taurus rides, 
 
 768. This simile is a Muitation of Homer, 11. fi, 87, 
 
BOOK I. 39 
 
 Pour forth their populous >outh about the hive //O 
 In clusters ; ^^they among fresh dews and flowers 
 Fly to and fro; or on the smoothed plank. 
 The suburb of their straw-built citadel. 
 New ruhb'd with balm, expatiate and confer 
 Their state affairs ; so thick the aery crowd 775 
 
 Swarra'd and were straiten'd ; till, the signal given, 
 Behold a wonderl^^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 780 
 
 Beyond the Indian mountt ;or fairy elves, 
 Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side 
 Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, 
 pr dreams he sees, while over head the moon 
 feits arbitress, and nearer to the earth 785 
 
 Wheels her pale course ;^they, on their mirth and 
 Intent, with jocund music charm his ear ; [dance 
 At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. 
 Thus incoi-poreal spirits to smallest forms 
 Reduced their shapes immense, and were at large, 
 Though without number still, amidst the hall 791 
 Of that infernal coui*t. But far within. 
 And in their own dimensions like themselves. 
 The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim, 
 In close recess and secret conclave sat, 79' 
 
 j A thousand Demi-gods on golden seats, 
 ! Frequent and full. After short silence then, 
 And summons read, the great consult began. 
 
 777. We here see the use of the lines on the nature of spirits 
 which prepare the reader for the wonders afterward related. 
 
 785. Arbitress, witness, or spectatress. Allusion is here xrnvis 
 to the superstitious belief in the power of witchesover the moon 
 797. Freauent. like the Latin frequens, meaning: At^/* 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The consultation beg'un, Satan debates whetlitT another battiC 
 oe to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven : some advise if, 
 others dissuade: a third proposal is preferred, mentioned before 
 by Satan, to search the truth of that propliecy or tradition in 
 Heav*. n 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 cliief undertakes aione the voyag-e, is honoured and 
 applauded. The council tlius ended, the rest betake them several 
 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, fin^s them shut, and who sat there to 
 g-uard them, by whom at leng-th they are opened, and discover 
 tohinii the great Sjfulf between Hell and Heaven; with what diffi- 
 culty he passes throug-h, directed by Chaos, the power of that place, 
 to ine sight of this new world which he sought. 
 
 High on a throne of royal state, which far 
 
 Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, 
 
 Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand 
 
 Show'rs on her kings harbaric pearl and gold, 
 
 Satan exalted sat, by merit raised 5 
 
 To that bad eminence ; and from despair 
 
 Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires 
 
 Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue 
 
 Vain war with Heaven ; and, by success untaught. 
 
 His proud imaginations thus display'd : 10 
 
 Pow'rs and Dominions, Deities of Heaven, 
 For since no deep within her gulf can hold 
 Immortal vigour, though oppress'd and fall'n, 
 I give not Heav'n for lost. From, this descent 
 Celestial virtues rising, will appear 15 
 
 More glorious and more dread than from no fall. 
 And trust themselves to fear no second fate. 
 Me, though just right, and the iix'd laws of Heav'n, 
 Did first create your leader, next free choice. 
 With what besides, in council or in fight, 20 
 
 Hath been achieved of merit ; yet this loss. 
 Thus far at least recover'd, hath much more 
 Establish'd in a safe uuenvied throne, 
 
 2. Ormus is an island in the Persian Gulf, and, together with 
 India, produces many of the treasures enumerated in this passage, 
 
 11. St. Paul divides the angers, into thrones, dominions, pnn- 
 opaliti€6, &c.— See Col. i. I6T 
 
BOOK 11. 41 
 
 Yielded with full consent. The happier state 
 
 In Heaven, which follows dignity, might draw 25 
 
 Envy from each inferior ; but who here 
 
 Will envy whom the hig'hest place exposes 
 
 Foremost to stand against the Thund'rer's aim 
 
 Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share 
 
 Of endless pain 1 Where there is then no good 30 
 
 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 35 
 
 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, 40 
 
 Whether of open war or covert guile, 
 
 We now debate : who can advise, may speak. 
 
 He ceased : and next him Moloch, scepter'd king, 
 Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Sp'rit 
 That fought in Heav*n, now fiercer by despair. 45 
 His trust was with th' Eternal to be deem'd 
 Equal in strength ; and rather than be less. 
 Cared 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 : 50 
 
 My sentence is for open war : of wiles 
 More unexpert I boast not : them let those 
 Contrive Vv^ho need, or when they need, not now. 
 For while they sit contriving, shall the rest. 
 Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait 55 
 The signal to ascend, sit lingering here 
 Hea^'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, 60 
 
 Arm'd with Hell-flames and fury, all at once 
 O'er Heav'n's high tow'rs to force resistless way, 
 Turning our tortures into horrid arms 
 Against the torturer ; when to meet the noise 
 Of his almighty engine he shall hear, 65 
 
 Infernal thunder, and for lightning see 
 
42 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 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 70 
 
 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 75 
 
 Up to our native seat ; descent and fall 
 
 To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, 
 
 When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear 
 
 Insulting, and pursued us through the deep. 
 
 With what compulsion and laborious flight 80 
 
 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 83 
 
 Than to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn'd 
 
 In this abhorred deep to utter woe. 
 
 Where pain of uiiextinguishable fire 
 
 Must exercise us without hope of end, 
 
 The vassals of his anger, when the scourge 90 
 
 Inexorably, and the tort'ring hour 
 
 Calls us to penance 1 More destroy'd than thus, 
 
 We should be quite abolish'd, and expire. 
 
 What fear we then ? what doubt we to incense 
 
 His utmost ii'e 1 which to the height enraged 95 
 
 Will either quite consume us, and reduce 
 
 To nothing this es.sential, happier far 
 
 Than mis'rable to have eternal being. 
 
 Or if our substance be indeed divine, 
 
 And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 100 
 
 On this side nothing; and by proof we feel 
 
 Our pow'r sufficient to disturb his Heav'n. 
 
 And with perpetual inroads to alarm, 
 
 Though inaccessible, his fatal throne : 
 
 89. Exe.rcised, this word is here used in the sense of the Latin 
 exerceo, that is, to vex or trouble. 
 
 91. Inexorably — in some editions, inexorable. 
 
 92. By calling to penance, Milton seems to intimate, that the 
 saffering-s of the condemned spirits are not always equally severe. 
 
 101. Fatal, that is upheld by fate. 
 
BOOli IL 43 
 
 Which, if not victory, is yet reveng-e. 105 
 
 He ended frowning-, and his look, denounced 
 Desp'rate reveng-e, and battle dang-erous 
 To less than God.?. On th' other side up rose 
 Belial, in act more graceful and humane : 
 A fairer pei'son lost not Heav'n ; he seem'd 1]0 
 
 For dignity composed and hig-h exploit : 
 But all was false and hollow, though his tong-ue 
 Dropt man)ta, a^ad could make the worse appear 
 The better reason, to perplex and dash 
 Maturest counsels : for his thoughts were low; 115 
 To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds 
 Tim'rous and slothful : yet he pleased 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 urged 120 
 
 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 fact of arms, 
 In what he counsels and in what excels 125 
 
 Mistrustful, g-rounds 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 fill'd 
 With armed watch, that render all access 130 
 
 Impregnable ; oft on the bord'ring deep 
 Encamp 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 135 
 With blackest insurrection, to confound 
 lleav'n's purest light, yet our Great Enemy, 
 All incorruptible, would on his throne 
 Sit unpolluted, and th' ethereal mould 
 Incapable of stain would soon expel 140 
 
 Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire 
 Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope 
 Is flat despair. We must exasperate 
 
 109. Belial's speech is in admirable conformity with the de» 
 scription ffiven of his character in tlie tirst book. It is through- 
 out that of a luxurious and base spirit, and is in fine contrast to 
 '.hat of Moloch. ^ , 
 
 124. Fact of arms' from the Italian fatto d'anne, a battle. 
 
44 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rai^e, 
 
 And that must end us ; that must be our cure, 145 
 
 To be no more 1 Sad cure ; for who would lose. 
 
 Though full of pain, this intellectual being". 
 
 Those thoughts that wander throug-h eternity. 
 
 To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost 
 
 In the wide womb of uncreated night, 150 
 
 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 155 
 
 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 who counsel war, we are decreed, 160 
 
 Reserved, and destined, to eternal woe ; 
 
 Whatever doing, what can we suffer more. 
 
 What can we suffer worse ? Is this then worst, 
 
 Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms 1 
 
 What when we fled amain, pursued and struck 165 
 
 With Heav'n's afflicting thunder, and besought 
 
 The deep to shelter us ? This Hell then seem'd 
 
 A refuge froru 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, 
 
 Awaked should blow them into sev'nfold rage, in 
 
 And plunge us in the flames ? Or from above 
 
 Should intermitted vengeance arm again 
 
 His red right hand to plague us 1 What if all 
 
 Her stores were open'd, and this firmament 175 
 
 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 glorious war, 
 
 Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurl'd 180 
 
 Each on his rock, transfix'd, the sport and prey 
 
 Of wracking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk 
 
 156. Impotenre is to be understood as the opposite 
 
 of wisdom, or mental weakness. 
 
 170. See Isa. xxx. 33, 
 
 174. His red riorlU hand, namely God's, whose vengfeance 
 
 is personified. 
 
C;aightxTi n fieiytt^mpcsr.slitdl he Irmi'd 
 Ecicl'i on. Ins Todi", tuaiisfixcl the, sport aixd prey 
 Of 'wrackjaig' iA/liiTlT\^:iids,orlorp-veT siixiIl 
 TJiLder-A/Y)]ijjr.iliQa ocpa:ii,^\T[ipt m chrOZLS; 
 Tliere to con^eise iratL eA'eflcistiiie •■'aroaas, 
 
BOOK II. 45 
 
 Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains ; 
 
 There to converse with everlasting groans, 
 
 Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, 185 
 
 Ages of hopeless end 1 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 atone vie w ? He from Heav'n's height 
 
 All these our motions vain, sees and derides ; 191 
 
 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 Heav'n 
 
 Thus trampled, thus expell'd, to suffer here 195 
 
 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 200 
 
 That so ordains. This was at first resolved, 
 
 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 205 
 
 What yet they know must follow, to endure 
 
 Exile or ignominy, or bonds, or pain, 
 
 'I'he 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 210 
 
 His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed. 
 
 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 pui'er essence then will overcome 215 
 
 Their noxious vapour, or inured not feel. 
 
 Or changed at length, and to the place conform'd 
 
 In temper and in nature, will receive 
 
 Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain ; 
 
 This hori'or will grow mild, this darkness light, 220 
 
 Besides what hope the never-ending flight 
 
 Of future days may bring, what chance, what change 
 
 190. See Psalm ii. 4. 
 220. The word light is an adjective and not a substantive, F.s 
 Dr. Bentlev supposed. It here means eas]/ to bear. 
 
46 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Worth waiting-, since our present lot appears 
 
 For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, 
 
 If we procure not to ourselves more woe. 225 
 
 Thus Belial, with words cloth'd in reason's g-arb, 
 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 be best, or to regain 230 
 
 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 235 
 
 Within Heav'n's bound, unless Heav'n's Lord 
 We overpow'r ? Suppose he should relent, [Supreme 
 And publish grace to all, on promise made 
 Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
 Stand in his presence humble, and receive 240 
 
 Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne 
 With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing- 
 Forced hallelujahs, while he lordly sits 
 Our envied Sovereign, and his altar breathes 
 Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flow'rs, 245 
 
 Our servile offerings ? This must be our task 
 In Heav'n, this our delight. How wearisome 
 Eternitj' so spent in worship paid 
 To w^hom we hate ! Let us not then pursue 
 By force impossible, by leave obtain'd 250 
 
 Unacceptable, though in Heav'n, our state 
 Of splendid vassalage ; but rather seek 
 Our OAvn good from ourselves, and from our own 
 Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess. 
 Free, and to none accountable, preferring 255 
 
 Hard liberty before the easy yoke 
 Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear 
 Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, 
 Useful of hurtful, prosp'rous of adverse. 
 We can create, and in what place soe'er 260 
 
 Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain 
 Through labour and endurance. This deep world 
 Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst 
 
 263. See the splendid original of this passage, Ps. xviii» 11. 13 
 and Ps. xcvii. 2. 
 
iU)o& u. 47 
 
 Thick clouds and dark doth Heav'n's all-ruling Sire 
 
 Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, 265 
 
 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 1 This desert soil '270 
 
 Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold , 
 
 Nor want v/e skill or art, from whence to raise 
 
 Magnificence : and what can Heav'n shew more 1 
 
 Our torments also may in length of time 
 
 Become our elements ; these piercing- fires 275 
 
 As soft as now severe, our temper changed 
 
 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 280 
 
 Compose our present evils, v,'ith regard 
 
 Of what we are and where, dismissing quite 
 
 All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise. 
 
 He scarce had fmish'd, when such murmur fill'd 
 Th' assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 285 
 
 The sound of blust'ring winds, which all night long- 
 Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull 
 Seafai'ing men o'erwatch'd, whose bark by chance 
 Or pinnace anchors in a craggy bay 
 After the tempest. Such applause was heard 290 
 As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, 
 Advising peace ; for such another field 
 They dreaded worse than Hell : so much the fear 
 Of thunder and the sword of Michael 
 Wrought still within them ; and no less desire 285 
 lo found this nether empire, which might rise 
 By policy and long process of time, 
 In emulation opposite to Heav'n : 
 Which when Beelzebub perceived, than whom, 
 Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 300 
 
 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd 
 A pillar of state : deep on his front engraven 
 Deliberation sat and public care ; 
 
 278. Simsible is used as a substantive; a Grecian mode o< 
 expression. 
 282. The7-e is sometimes read instead of wliere, 
 
 E 
 
48 PARADISE LOST 
 
 And princely counsel in his face j^et shone, 
 (Majestic though in ruin :isage he stood, 305 
 
 With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear 
 The weight of mightiest monarchies ; bis look 
 Di'ev/ audience and attention still as night 
 Or summer's noon-tide air, while thus he spake : 
 
 Thrones and Imperial Powers, Olfspi-ing- of Hea> 'n 
 Ethereal Virtues ; or these titles now 311 
 
 Must we renounce, and changing- style be call'd 
 Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote 
 Inclines here to continue, and build up here 
 A growing empire ; doubtless, while we dream, 31£ 
 And know not that the King of Heav'n hathdoom'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 320 
 
 In strictest bondage, though thus far removed, 
 Under th' inevitable curb, reserved 
 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 3'<iS 
 
 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 determined us, and foil'd with loss 330 
 Irreparable : terms of peace yet none 
 Vouchsafed or sought : for what peace will be giv'n 
 To us enslaved, but custody severe. 
 And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
 Inflicted l And what peace can we return, 335 
 
 But to our power hostility and hate. 
 Untamed 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 suffering' feel 1 340 
 
 Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need 
 With dang'rous expedition to invade 
 Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault or siege, 
 
 a27. The iron sceptre, is an allnsion to Ps. ii. 9. and the golden 
 to F.i.ther i . 2. 
 
BOOK II. 49 
 
 Or ambush from the deep. What if we find 
 
 Some easier enterprise 1 There is a place, 345 
 
 (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav'n 
 
 Err not) another world, tlie happy seat 
 
 Of some new race call'd Man, about this time 
 
 To be created like to ns, though less 
 
 In pow'r and excellence, but farour'd more 350 
 
 Of Him who rules above ; so was his will 
 
 Pronounced among- the Gods, and by an oath. 
 
 That shook Heav'n's whole circumference, conhrm'd. 
 
 Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn 
 
 What creatures tliere inhabit, of what mould 355 
 
 Or substance, how endued, 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 exposed 360 
 
 The utmost border of his kingdom, left 
 
 To their defence who hold it. Here perhaps 
 
 Some advantageous act may be achieved 
 
 By sudden onset, either with Hell fire 
 
 To waste his whole creation, or possess 365 
 
 All as our own, and drive, as we were driv'n, 
 
 The puny habitants ; 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 370 
 
 Common revenge, and interrupt his joy 
 
 In our confusion, and our joy upraise 
 
 In his disturbance ; when his darling sons, 
 
 Hnrl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse 
 
 Their frail original and faded bliss, 375 
 
 Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth 
 
 Attempting, or to sit in darkness here 
 
 Hatching vain empires. Thus Beelzebub 
 
 Pleaded his dev'lish counsel, first devised 
 
 By Satan, and in part proposed : for whence, 380 
 
 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 
 
 352. See Hebrews vi. 17 
 367. It has been supposed that Milton used the word ptny iu 
 its orig^inal sense, as derived from the French puis ne, born since. 
 D 
 
50 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To mingle and involve, done all to spite 
 
 The great Creator ? But their spite still serves 38f 
 
 His glory to augment. The bold design 
 
 Pleased highly those infernal States, and joy 
 
 Sparkled in all their eyes. With full assent 
 
 They vote ; whereat his speech he thus renews : 
 
 Well have ye judged, well ended long debate, 390 
 Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are, 
 Great things resolved, which 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 395 
 
 And opportune excursion, we may chance 
 Re-enter Heav'n ; or else in some mild zone 
 Dwell not unvisited of Heav'n's fair li,iht 
 Secure, and at the bright'ning orient beam 
 Purge off this gloom : the soft delicious air, 400 
 
 To heal the scar of these corrosive fires, [send 
 
 Shall breathe her balm. But first, whom shall we 
 In search of this new world ? whom shall we find 
 Sufficient? who shall 'tempt with wand'ring feet 
 The dark unbottom'd infinite abyss, 405 
 
 And through the palpable obscure find out 
 His uncouth way, or spread his aery flight. 
 Upborne with indefatigable wings 
 Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive 
 The happy isle 1 What strength, what art, can then 
 Suffice, or what e/asion bear him safe 411 
 
 Through the strict senteries and stations thick 
 Of Angels watching round 1 Here he had need 
 All circumspection, and we now no less 
 Choice in our suffrage ; for on whom we send, 415 
 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 : but all sate mute, 420 
 
 Pond'ring the danger with deep thoughts ; and each 
 
 406. Palpable obscure ; this is another instance of Milton's using 
 adjectives in the s^nse of substiintives. 
 
 409 The earth is here called an island in aUusion to its hang-- 
 in§- in the air, which surrounds it like a sea. The word arrive 
 na*s formerly frequently used vvithout a i)reposition following. 
 
BOOK 11. 51 
 
 In other's count'iiance read his own disma> 
 Astonish'd. None among the choice and prime 
 Of those Heav'n-warring- champions could be found 
 So hardy as to proffer or accept 42,1 
 
 Alone the dreadful voyage ; till at last 
 Satan, whom now transcendent g"lory raised 
 Above his fellows, with monarchal pride. 
 Conscious of highest worth, unmoved, thus spake : 
 
 O Progeny of Heav'n, empyreal Thrones, 430 
 
 With reason hath deep silence and demur 
 Seized 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 435 
 
 Ninefold, and gates of burning adamant 
 Barr'd over us 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 440 
 
 Threatens him, plunged in that abortive gull. 
 If thence he 'scape into whatever world. 
 Or unknown region, what remains him less 
 Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape 1 
 But I should ill become this throne, O Peers, 445 
 And this imperial sov'reignty, adorn'd 
 With splendour, arm'd with pow'r, if aught propos'd 
 And judged of public moment, in the shape 
 Of difficulty or danger, could deter 
 Me from attempting. W^herefoi-e do I assume 450 
 These ro3^alties, and not refuse to reign, 
 Refusing 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 455 
 
 High honour'd sits ? Go, therefore, mighty Powers, 
 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 460 
 
 To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain 
 
 439. Unessential ; that is, void of substance. 
 
52 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of this ill mansion ; intermit no watch 
 
 Against a wakeful foe, while 1 abroad 
 
 Throngli all the coasts of dark destruction, seek 
 
 Deliv 'ranee for us all. This enterprise 465 
 
 None shall partake with me. llius saying rose 
 
 The Monarch, and prevented all reply. 
 
 Prudent, lest from his resolution raised. 
 
 Others among the chief might offer now 
 
 (Certain to be refused) what erst they fear'd : 470 
 
 And so refused 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 ; 475 
 
 Their rising all at once was as the sound 
 
 Of thunder heard remote. Tow'rds him they bend 
 
 With awful rev'rence prone ; and as a God 
 
 Extol him equal to the High'st in Heav'n : 
 
 Nor fail'd they to express how much they praised, 480 
 
 That for the genVal spf*»^y he despised 
 
 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. 485 
 
 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 
 
 Heav'n's cheerful face, the low'ring element 490 
 
 Scowls o'er the darken'd landskip snow, or .«*how'r ; 
 
 If chance the radiant Sun with farewell sweet 
 
 Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive. 
 
 The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds 
 
 Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. 495 
 
 435. Milton intimates above, that the fallen and desraded state 
 of man or his individual vice is not at all disproved by some of 
 his external actions not appearing- totally base. The commenta- 
 tors should have observed, in explaining- this passas^e, that the 
 whole errand mystery on which the poem depends is the first 
 fearful spiritual alienation of Satan from God, the only fountain 
 of truth and all real positive good ; and that when thus sepi<j-ateci, 
 whether the spirit be that of man or devil, it may perform 
 actions fair in appearance but not essentially good, becau.-e 
 springing from no fixed principle of good. 
 
BOOK II. 63 
 
 O shame to men ! Devil with Devil danin'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 500 
 
 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 enough besides, 
 
 That day and night for his destruction wait. 505 
 
 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, 510 
 And God-like imitated state ; him round 
 A globe of fiery Seraphim inclosed 
 With bright emblazonry, and horrent arms. 
 Then of their session ended they bid cry 
 With trumpets regal sound the great result: 515 
 
 Tow'rds the four winds four speedy Cherubim 
 Put to their mouths the sounding- alchemy 
 By heralds* voice explain'd ; the hollow abyss 
 Heard far and v/ide, and all the host of Hell 
 With deaf'ning shout return'd them loud acclaim. 520 
 Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat raised 
 By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Pow'rs 
 Disband, and wand'ring, each his sev'ral way 
 Pursues, as inclination or sad choice 
 Leads him perplex'd, where he may likeliest find 525 
 Truce to his restless thoughts, and entei'tain 
 The irksome hours till his great chief return. 
 Part on the plain, or in the air sublime, 
 
 496. It has been well observed, that an allusion is probably 
 made here to the troubled chara<-ter of the times in which the 
 author lived. 
 
 512. A globe, or a battalion surrounding: him in a circle. — See 
 Virgil, /En. x. 373. 
 
 513- Horrent, rou^h and sharp. This epithet I imagine to 
 have considerable force, b''cause it implies ilie dense and com 
 Dact closeness of the globe of spirits surrounding Satan. The; 
 arms were horrent, because standing out like a boar's bristle 
 from tl'.is fierv body. 
 
 517. Alchemy, a very fine metonymy for the trumpets. 
 
 528. The occupations of the fallen spirits are conceived in the 
 lighest strain both of poetry and philosophy. 
 
54 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Upon the wing, or in swift race contend, 
 
 As at th' Olympian games or Pythian fields ; 530 
 
 Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 
 
 With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. 
 
 As when to warn proud cities war appears 
 
 Waged in the troubled sky, and armies rush 
 
 To battle in the clouds, before each van 535 
 
 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 Typhoean rage more fell, 
 
 Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 540 
 
 In whirlwind ; Hell scarce holds the wild uproar. 
 
 As when Alcides, from Oechalia crown'd 
 
 With conquest, felt th' eiivenom'd robe, and tore 
 
 Througn pain up by the roots Thessalian pines, 
 
 And Lichas from the top of Oeta threw 545 
 
 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 650 
 
 Free virtue should inthrall 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 555 
 
 (For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense) 
 
 Others apart sat on a hill retired. 
 
 In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high 
 
 Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, 
 
 Fix'd fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute, 560 
 
 And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost. 
 
 Of good and evil much they argoied then. 
 
 Of happiness and final misery, 
 
 539. Typhoean— Typhceus was one of the giants who warred 
 ag-ainst heaven. 
 
 542. Alcides— Hercules, so named from his ancestor Alcaeus 
 The allusion here made is familiar to every reader. 
 
 555. It has been observed, that Milton has here shewn the 
 superiority of discourse and reasoning to song, i he angeis who 
 reason are on a hill ; those who sing are in a valley.— But it 
 should have been observed, at the same time, that it is only when 
 song is what Milton calls partial, or confined to selfish or am 
 bitious themes, that it is thus inferior to, or ditTerent from Mi,7b 
 philosophy. 
 
BOOK Lh 55 
 
 Passion and apathy, glory and shame, 
 
 Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy : 565 
 
 Yet with a pleasinj^ sorcery could charm 
 
 Pain for a while, or anguish, and excite 
 
 Fallacious hope, or arm th' ohdured breast 
 
 With stubborn patience as with triple steel. 
 
 Another pai't in squadrons and g-ross bands, 570 
 
 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 575 
 
 Into the burning lake their baleful streams ; 
 
 ^Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate ; 
 
 ( Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep); 
 Cocytus, named of lamentation loud 
 Heard on the rueful stream ; fierce Phleg-ethon, 580 
 Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. 
 Far off from these a slow and silent stream, 
 
 /Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls 
 
 j Her wat'ry labyrinth ; whereof who drinks. 
 Forthwith his former state and being" forg'ets, 585 
 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 590 
 Of ancient pile ; all else deep snow and ice 
 A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog 
 JBetwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, 
 Where armies whole have sunk: the pai'cliing air 
 Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of fire. 595 
 Thither, by harpy-footed furies haled, 
 
 577. Milton follows the Greeks in this description of the in- 
 fernal rivers ; but, as usual, improves upon the classical idea, a?- 
 he represents them as emptying- themselves into a vast and fearful 
 lake of fire. Styx, according to its derivation, sig-nifies hate; 
 Acheron, flowing with pain; Cocytus, lamentation; Phlegethon, 
 burning, and Lethe, forgetful ntss. 
 
 592. Serbonis was a lake two hundred furlongs long, and on( 
 thousand round, between Mount Casius and Damiuta, a city in 
 Egvpt. It was sometimes so covered by the loose sand of the 
 neighbouring lulls, as not to be distinguished from the land.— 
 See Herod. 1. 3. and Lucan. viii. 539. 
 
 595. Frore, frosty.— See Virgil, Georg. i. 93. Ecclus. x!ii. 20, 
 91. Ps. cxxi. 6. 
 
56 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 At certain revolutions, all the damn'd 
 
 Are brought ; and feel by turns the bitter change 
 
 Of fiei'ce extreraes, extremes by change more fierce, 
 
 From beds of raging fire to starve in ice (iOO 
 
 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, 005 
 
 And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach 
 
 The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose 
 
 In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe, 
 
 All in one moment, and so near the brink ; 
 
 But Fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt 010 
 
 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 confused march forlorn, th' advent'rous bands 615 
 
 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, 620 
 
 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 natui*e breeds. 
 Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, 625 
 Abominable, inutterable, and worse 
 Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceived, 
 Gorgons and Hydras, and Chima^ras dire. 
 
 Meanwhile the adversary' of God and Man, 
 Satan, with thoughts inflamed of hiih'st design, 63b 
 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. 63,^ 
 
 603. See Job xxiv. in the Vulg'ate translation.— See also Shak- 
 cpeare Measure for Measure, Act iii. 
 
 611. Medusa, one of the Gor^oa monsters. 
 
BOOK II. o? 
 
 As when far off at sea a fleet descry'd 
 
 Hano-s 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 640 
 
 Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape 
 
 Ply stemming nightly tow'rd the pole. So seem'd 
 
 Far off the flying Fiend : at last appear 
 
 Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 
 
 And thrice threefold the gates ; three folds were brass, 
 
 Three iron, three of adamantine rock, 646 
 
 Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire, 
 
 Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat 
 
 On either side a formidable shape ; 
 
 The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair, C50 
 
 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 655 
 
 A hideous peal : yet, when they list, would creep. 
 
 If aught disturb'd 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 Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts 660 
 
 Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore ; 
 
 Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when call'd 
 
 In secret, riding througis the aii* she comes, 
 
 Lui'ed with the smell of iiit.int blood, to dance 
 
 6;J6. A noble comparison. But Dr. Bentley asks why would not 
 one ship do as well as a fleet? It has been answered, that many 
 shijjs are a more noble fig-ure than one. This, however, is only 
 the case when so seen at a distaice, that they may ai)pear as one 
 g-rand, dark, and sublime object. Ternate and Tidore are two of 
 the Molucca Islands. 
 
 648. This is one of the most sublime passag-es in. the poem. 
 Addison is g-enerally ingenious in his criticisms, but not elevated, 
 and when he objected to Milton's having- introduced an alleg-ory 
 he shews that he was incapable of entering- into the mairnirtcenl 
 conceptions of his author. Sin and Death are not alleg-orioai 
 oeingrs in Paradise Lost; but real and active existences. They 
 would have been allegorical, speaking- or contending among men', 
 but are not so in an abode or spirits, and addressing Ihe Prince 
 of darkness, see James i. 15. 
 
 661. Calabria, the extreme part of Italv towards the Mediter 
 tauean. Trinacria, an ancient name of Sicily. 
 D2 
 
58 PARADi£E LOST. 
 
 With Lapland witches, while the lab'ring moon 665 
 
 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, 670 
 
 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 C75 
 
 With horrid strides, Hell trembled as he strode. 
 
 Th* undaunted Fiend what this might be admired — 
 
 Admired, not fear'd : God and his Son except, 
 
 Created thing- nought valued he nor shunn'd ; 
 
 And with disdainful look thus first began : 680 
 
 Whence and what art thou, execrable shape. 
 That darest, though grim and terrible, advance 
 Thy miscreated front athwart my way 
 To yonder gates 1 Through them I mean to pass. 
 That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee : 685 
 Retire or taste thy folly, and learn by proof. 
 Hell-born, not to contend v/ith 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 691 
 
 Drew after him the third part of Heav'n's sons. 
 Conjured against the High'st, for which both thou 
 And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd 
 To waste eternal days in woe and pain 1 695 
 
 And reckon'st thou thyself with Spirits of Heav'n, 
 Hell-doom'd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn 
 Where I reign king-, and to enrage thee more, 
 Thy king- and lord 1 Back to thy punishment. 
 False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, 70D 
 
 665. It was formerly believed that the moon might be afiected 
 by incantations. 
 
 666. See Spenser, Faery Queen, Book vii. C. 7. 46. 
 
 678. The word except is here used with the same latitude as but 
 in ver. 333. 336. 
 
 093. Conjured, from the Latin ronjnrare, to conspire or leaguf 
 •og'ether. 
 
BOOK II. 59 
 
 Lest witli a whip of scoi'pions I pursue 
 
 Thy iing'nng, or with one stroke of this dart 
 
 Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt befoie. 
 
 So spake the grisly terror, and in shape, 
 So speaking, and so threat'ning-, grew tenfold 705 
 More dreadful and deform. On th' other side, 
 Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 
 Unterrify'd, and like a comet burn'd. 
 That fires the length of Ophinchus huge 
 In th' arctic sky, and from his hoi-rid hair 710 
 
 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 artill'ry fraught, come rattling on 715 
 Over the Caspian ; then stand front to front 
 Hov'ring a space, till winds the signal blow 
 To join their dark encounter in mid-air. 
 So frown'd the mighty combatants, that Hell 
 Gi'ew darker at their frown, so mateh'd they stood : 
 For neA'er but once more was either like 721 
 
 To meet so great a foe : and now great deeds 
 Had been achieved, whereof all Hell had rung, 
 Had not the snaky sorceress that sat 
 Fast by Hell gate, and kept tbe fatal key, 725 
 
 Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. 
 
 O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry'd, 
 Ag-ainst 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 731 
 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 735 
 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, 740 
 
 709. Ophiuchus, or Serpentarius, a northern constellation, 
 716. The Caspian was noticed for behvj, tempfstuoug, 
 T22. Jesu's Chri.it is here meant. 
 
60 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 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 ; 
 
 I know thee not, nor ever saw till now 
 
 Sight more detestable than him and thee. 743 
 
 T' whom thus the portress of Hell gate reply'd : 
 Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem 
 Now in thine eyes so foul 1 once deem'd so fair 
 In Heav'n, when at th' assembly, and in sight 
 Of all the Seraphim with thee combined 750 
 
 In bold conspiracy against Heav'n's King, 
 All on a sudden miserable pain 
 Surprised thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swum 
 In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast 
 Threw forth, till on tlie left side op'ning wide, 755 
 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 seized 
 All th' host of Heav'n ; back they recoil'd, afraid 
 At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a sign 760 
 
 Portentous held me ; but familiar grown 
 I pleased, 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 765 
 With me in secret, that my womb conceived 
 A growing burthen. Meanwhile war arose, 
 And fields were fought in Heav'n ; wherein remain'd 
 (For what could else 1) to our Almiglity Foe 
 Clear victory ; to our part loss and rout 770 
 
 Through all the empyrean. Down they fell, 
 Driv'n headlong from the pitch of Heav'n, down 
 Into this deep, and in the general fall 
 I also ; at which time this powerful key 
 Into my hand was giv'n, with charge to keep 775 
 These gates for ever shut; which none can pass 
 Without my op'ning. Pensive here I sat 
 Alone ; but long I sat not, till my womb 
 Pregnant by thee, and nov/ excessive grown. 
 Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes. , 780 
 
 At last this odious offspring whom thou seest 
 
 758. This is imitated from the mythological fable of Miiierva 
 springing from the head of Jupiter. 
 
BOOK li. 61 
 
 Thine own begotten, breaking violent v/ay, 
 
 Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain 
 
 Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew 
 
 Transform'd : but he my inbred enemy 783 
 
 Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart, 
 
 Made to destroy. I fled, and cry'd out Death ; 
 
 Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh'd 
 
 From all her caves, and back resounded Death. 
 
 I fled, but he pursued (though more, it seems, TOf. 
 
 Inflamed with lust than rage), and swifter far. 
 
 Me overtook his mother all dismay'd, 
 
 And in embraces forcible and foul 
 
 Ingend'ring with me, of that rape begot 
 
 These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry 71)5 
 
 Surround me^as thou saw'st, hourly conceived 
 
 And hourly born, with sorrow inlinite 
 
 To me ; for when they list, into the womb 
 
 That bred them they return, and howl and gnaw 
 
 My bowels, their repast ; then bursting- forth 800 
 
 Afresh with conscious terrors vex me roinid, 
 
 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 805 
 
 For want of other prey, but that he knows 
 
 His end with mine involved; and knows that 1 
 
 Should prove a bitter morsel, and bis bane, 
 
 Whenever that shall be. So Fate pronounced. 
 
 But thou, O Father, I forewarn thee, shun 810 
 
 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 815 
 
 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 unforeseen, unthought of; knov/ 821 
 
 I come no enemy, but to set free 
 From out this dark and dismal house of pain 
 789. See Virgil, lEu. ii, .53. 
 
62 PARADISE X.OST. 
 
 Both him and thee, and all the heav'nly host 
 
 Of Spirits, that in our just pretences arm'd 826 
 
 Fell with us from on hig-h : from them I g-o 
 
 This uncouth errand sole, and one for all 
 
 Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread 
 
 Th' unfounded deep, and through the void immense 
 
 To search with wand'ring quest a place foretold 830 
 
 Should be, and, by concurring- signs, ere now 
 
 Created vast and round, a place of bliss 
 
 In the purlieus of Heav'n, and therein placed 
 
 A race of upstart creatures to supply 
 
 Perhaps our vacant room, though more removed, 835 
 
 Lest Heav'n surcharged with potent multitude 
 
 Might hap to move new broils : Be this or aught 
 
 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 84t 
 
 Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 
 
 Wing silently the buxom air, embalm'd 
 
 With odours : there ye shall be fed and fill'd 
 
 Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey. 
 
 He ceased,for both seem'd highlypleased; and Deatb 
 Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear 8i > 
 
 His famine should be iill'd, and blest his maw 
 Destined to that good hour: no less rejoiced 
 His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire ; 
 
 The key of this infernal pit by due, 8^0 
 
 And by command of Heav'n's all-pow'rful King, 
 I keep, by him forbidden to unlock 
 These adamantine gates ; against all force 
 Death ready stands to interpose his dart, 
 Fearless to be o'ermatch'd by living might. 855 
 
 But what owe I to his commands above 
 Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down 
 Into this gloom of Tartarus profound. 
 To sit in hateful office here confined, 
 Inhabitant of Heav'n, and heav'nly born, 850 
 
 Here in perpetual agony and pain, 
 ^\ ith terrors and with clamours compass'd round 
 Ct mine own brood, that on my bowels feed? 
 
 M'i. Buxom ; not ae Newton would interpret it, flexible or 
 yielding', but cheerfui or inspiring^ cheerfulness by the odouri 
 and niiisic with which it is filled. 
 
BOOK II. 63 
 
 Thou art my father, thou ray author, thou 
 My being g-av'st me ; whom should I obey 865 
 
 But thee, whom follow? 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. 870 
 
 Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, 
 Sad instrument of all our woe, she took ; 
 And tow'rds the gate rolling her bestial train, 
 Forthwith the huge portcullis high up-drew, 
 Which but herself, not all the Stygian pow'rs 87.') 
 Could once have moved; then in the key-hole turns 
 Th' intricate wards, and ev'ry bolt and bar 
 Of massy iron or solid rock with ease 
 Unfastens. On a sudden open fly 
 With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 880 
 
 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 885 
 
 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 890 
 
 The secrets of the hoary deep, a dark 
 Illimitable ocean, without bound. 
 Without dimension,where length, breadth, and highth, 
 And time, and place, are lost; where eldest Night 
 And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold 895 
 
 Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise 
 Of endless wars, and by conftsision stand. 
 For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce 
 Strive here for mast'ry, and tc battle bring' 
 Their embryon atoms ; they around the flag 900 
 
 Of each his faction, in their sev'ral clans, 
 Light-arm'd or heavy, sharj), smooth, swift, or slow, 
 Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the sands 
 Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil. 
 Levy'd to side with warring winds, and poise 905 
 
 901. i'.nrca and Cvrena \vci-e a oiiv and province of Lvbia. 
 1? 
 
64 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Their lighter win^^s. To whom these most adhere- 
 
 He rules a momeni Chaos umpire sits, 
 
 And by decision moi e embroils the fray 
 
 By which he reigns : next him high arbiter 
 
 Chance governs all. Into this wild abyss, 91 (J 
 
 The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave, 
 
 Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor lire, 
 
 But all these in their pregnant causes mix'd 
 
 Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight, 
 
 Unless th' Almighty Maker them ordain 915 
 
 His dark materials to create more worlds ; 
 
 Into this wild abyss the wary Fiend 
 
 Stood on the brink of Hell and look'd a while, 
 
 Pond'ring his voyage ; for no narrow frith 
 
 He had to cross. Nor was his ear less peal'd .920 
 
 With noises loud and ruinous (to compare 
 
 Great things with small) than when Bellona storms 
 
 With all her batt'ring engines bent, to raze 
 
 Some capital city ; or less than ii this frame 
 
 Of Heav'n were falling, and these elements 925 
 
 In mutiny had from her axle torn 
 
 The stedfast 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 930 
 
 Audacious ; but that seat soon failing, meets 
 
 A vast vacuity : all unawares 
 
 Flutt'ring his pennons vain, plumb down he drops 
 
 Ten thousand fathom deep, and to this hour 
 
 Down had been falling, had not by ill chance, 935 
 
 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, 940 
 
 Treading the crude consistence, half on foot. 
 
 Half flying ; behoves him now both oar and sail. 
 
 As when a gryphon through the wilderness 
 
 933. Pennons, commonly spelt pinions. 
 
 941. There is much in this description similar to that in 
 Spenser of the dragon. 
 
 943. A gryphon is a fab«;Jous creature said to guard gold mi nee, 
 In its upper part it was like an eagle, in its lower like a lion, 
 The Ariniaspians were a one-eyed people of Scytliiu. 
 
BOOK It. 65 
 
 With wing-ed course, o'er hill or moory dale, 
 Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth 9-15 
 
 Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd 
 The g-uarded gold : so eagerly the Fiend [rare^ 
 
 O'er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or 
 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 951 
 
 Of stunning sounds and voices all confused. 
 Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear 
 With loudest vehemence : thither he plies. 
 Undaunted to meet there whatever Pow'r 955 
 
 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 strait behold the throne 
 Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 96C 
 
 Wide on the wasteful deep ; with him enthroned 
 Sat sable-vested !Night, eldest of things. 
 The consort of his reigTi ; and by them stood 
 Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name 
 Of Demogorgon ; Rumour next and Chance, 9Ga 
 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 nethei-most abyss. 
 Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, 970 
 
 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 975 
 
 What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds 
 Confine with Heav'n ; or if some other place 
 From your dorhinion won, th' ethereal King- 
 Possesses lately, thither to arrive 
 I travel this profound ; direct my course ; 980 
 
 Directed no mean recompense it brings 
 To your behoof, if I that region lost. 
 All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce 
 
 964. Orcus or Pluto, so called by the ancients. Ades may be 
 taken for any dark place. 
 
 965. A deity arnon^- the ancients whose name they supposed 
 capable of producing- the most terrible effects. 
 
€6 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To her original darkness and your sway 
 (Which is my present journey), and once moie 9SJ 
 Erect the standard there of ancient Night; 
 Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge. 
 
 Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old. 
 With fault'ring speech and visage incomposed, 
 Answer'd: I know thee, stranger, who thou art; 990 
 That mighty leading Angel, who of late 
 Made head against Heav'n's King, though over- 
 thrown. 
 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, 995 
 
 Confusion worse confounded; and Heav'n gates 
 Pour'd out by millions her victorious bands 
 Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here 
 Keep residence ; if all 1 can will serve 
 That little which is left so to defend, 1000 
 
 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 o'er my realm, link'd in a golden chain 1003 
 To that side Heav'n from v/hence your legions fell : 
 If that way be your walk, you have not far; 
 So much the nearer danger; go and speed; 
 Havock, and spoil, and ruin, are my gain. 
 
 He ceased, and Satan stay'd not to reply ; 1010 
 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 throug'h the shock 
 Of fighting elements, on ail sides round 3i"15 
 
 Environ'd, wins his way; harder beset 
 And more endanger'd than when Argo pass'd 
 Through Bosphoi'us, betv/ixt the justling rocks ; 
 Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunn'd 
 
 1005. Homer meutio.'.is a g'oldea chain by which Jupiter coiiid 
 draw up the eartli, &c. — See Iliad, book 8. 
 
 1011. A nitlaphor to express his satisfaction at concluding his 
 journey. 
 
 1017. Ar^o was the ship in wliich Jason and his companions 
 sailed to Colchis, in search of the golden Heece. Bosphorm is ihe 
 nan.e of the Straits of Constantinople, or the cliunnfl of t!ie 
 Black Sea. 
 
BOOK II. 67 
 
 Charybdis, and by tb' other whirlpool steer'd. 1020 
 
 So he with difficulty and labour hard 
 
 Moved on, with difficulty and labour he ; 
 
 But he once past, soon after when man fell, 
 
 Strang-e alteration! Sin and Death amain 
 
 Following- his track, such was the will of Heav'n, . 
 
 Paved after him a broad and beaten way 1020 
 
 Over the dark abyss, whose boiling- gulf 
 
 Tamely en lured a bridge of wondi-ous length 
 
 From Hell continued reaching th' utmost orb 
 
 Of this frail world; by which the Spirits perverse 
 
 With easy intercourse pass to and fro, 1031 
 
 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 1035 
 
 Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night 
 
 A glimm'ring 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, 1040 
 
 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, 1045 
 
 Weighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold 
 
 Far off th* empyreal Heav'n, extended wide 
 
 In circuit, undetermined square or round. 
 
 With opal tow'rs and battlements adorn 'd 
 
 Of living sapphire, once his native seat ; 1050 
 
 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 reveng:e, 
 
 Accursed, and in a cursed hour he hies. 1055 
 
 1020. Charyhdis, a dang-erous part of the sea between Messina 
 and Italy. 
 
 1023. Dr. Bentley supposes eleven lines to be inserted here b-/ 
 the Editor of Milton ; but if the passasre be examined, it will be 
 seen they cannot be an interpolation. His stroiig-est objection is, 
 that die bridge is described a^ain in Book X. 
 
 1052. Bv the pendent world is meant the whole new creation 
 of heaven and earth. See verse 1004. 
 
BOOK III. 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 God, sitting' on his throne, sees Satan flyina: towards tins world, 
 then newly created ; shews him to the Son ^vho sat at his riglit 
 hand; foret« lis the successor Satan in perverting mankind ; clears 
 hU own justice and wisdom from ail 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 renders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his 
 gracious purpose towards Man ; but God again declares, that 
 grace cannot be extended towards Man without tlie satisfaction 
 of divine justice : Man hath oflended the Majesty of God by a^^pir- 
 ing to Godhead, and tlierefore, with all his progeny, devoted to 
 death, must die, unless some one can be found sufficient to answer 
 for his offence, and undergo his punishment. The Son of God 
 freely offers himself a ransom for Man : the Father accepts him, 
 ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all names 
 in Heaven and Earth; commands all the Angels to adore him : 
 they obey, and hymning to their harps in full choir, celebrate the 
 Father and the Son. Meanwhile Satan alights upon the bare con- 
 vex of this world's outermost orb ; where wandering he first finds 
 a place, since called the Limbo of Vanity : what persons and 
 things fly up thither: thence comes to the gate of Heaven, de- 
 scribed ascending by stairs, and the waters above the firmament 
 that flow about it: His passage thence to the orb of the Sun ; he 
 rinds there Uriel, the regent of that orb, but first changes him- 
 self into the shape of a meaner Angel; and pretending a zealous 
 <icsire 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. 
 
 Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heav'n first-boni. 
 
 Or of th' Eternal coeternal beam, 
 
 May I express thee unblamed'? since God is Light, 
 
 And never but in unapproached light 
 
 Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 5 
 
 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 v/ert, and at the voice 
 
 Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 10 
 
 The rising world of waters dark and deep, 
 
 Won from the void and formless infinite. 
 
 Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, 
 
 1. This transition from the fearful gloom and confusion of Hell 
 and Chaos to the worlds of light has a magnificent effect upon the 
 mind. The toueh of sweet and holy feeling with which the Au- 
 Ihor alludes to his own personal sorrow heightens, i-ather than 
 diminishes, the impression of awe and delisrht. 
 
 3. See 1 John i. 5. and 1 Tim. vi. 16. 
 
 6. See Book of Wisdom, vii. 25, 26. 
 
 12. Void, not em{)tv, but chaos-like 
 
(Tl 
 T] 
 
 BCJOK III. 69 
 
 Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detain'd 
 In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight 15 
 
 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 dai'k descent, and up to re-ascend, 20 
 
 Though hard and rare : thee I revisit safe. 
 And feel thy sov'reign vital lamp:! but thou\ 
 (Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll m vain \ 
 ' To iind thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; 
 So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs, 25 
 Or dim suftusion veil'd. Yet not the more 
 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, 30 
 
 That v/ash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow, 
 Nightly I visit :lnor sometimes forget 
 ^hose other two^quall'd with me in fate. 
 So were I equall'd with them in renown. 
 Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides, 35 
 
 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 40 
 Seasons return, but not to me returns 
 Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, 
 Or siglit of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
 Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 
 j But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 45 
 
 ', Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
 VCut oflland for the Book of knowledge fair 
 Presented with an universal blank 
 Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased, 
 
 17. Orpheus composed a hymn to night. 
 30. The brooks here mentioned were Kedron and Siloah. 
 35. Tiianiyris, a poet mentioned in Homer, 11. ii. 595. M<eo- 
 nides, Hor. er, so named from his father Maeon. Tiresias was 3l 
 rheban, and Phineus a liing' of Arcadia, both blind poets. 
 37. The melody of the verse is here particularly observable. 
 49. Rased, from the Latin radere, to rub out, in allusion fo the 
 manner in which the ancients, who wrote on waxen tablets, ob- 
 'iterated writing'. 
 
10 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And Wisdom at one entrance quite sliut out. 50 
 
 So mucli the rather thou, celestial Light, 
 
 Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 
 
 Irradiate, there plant eyes ; all mist from thence 
 
 Purg-e and disperse, that I may sec and tell 
 
 Of things invisible to mortal sight. 55 
 
 Now had th' Almighty Father from above, 
 From the pure empyrean where he sits 
 High throned above all highth, bent down his eye. 
 His own works and their works at once to view : 
 About him all the sanctities of Heav'n 60 
 
 Stood thick as stars, and from his sight received 
 Beatitude past utterance ; on his riglit 
 The radiant image of his glory sat. 
 His only Son : on earth he fii'st beheld 
 Our two first parents, yet the only two 66 
 
 Of mankind, in the happy garden placed, 
 Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love. 
 Uninterrupted joy, unrivail d love, 
 In blissful solitude. He then survey'd 
 Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there JD 
 
 Coasting the wall of Heav'n on this side Night, 
 In the dun air sublime, and ready now 
 To stoop with wearied wings and willing feet 
 On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd 
 Firm land embosom'd, without firmament, 75 
 
 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 M 
 
 Transports oar Adversary *? whom no bounds 
 Prescribed, 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 
 
 52. It is observed, that the same idea occurs in Milton's Prose 
 Works. He probably alluded to E]ili. i. 18. 
 
 56. Tasso may h-j.ve been translated here.— Canto 1. st. 7. 
 
 62. See Heb. i. 3. also Tasso, Canto 9. st. 55. 
 
 80. Addison has judicious v observed, that it is not the imagina- 
 tion of Milton which is so much to be looked for in these speeches 
 as his learning-. The one could not be safely trusted in fifiving a 
 living- lang^uag-e to the wisdom of the Almig-hty. Notwitiistanding 
 this, however, almost every passage of the kind is remarkable for 
 great dignity and grandeur. 
 
BOOK III. 71 
 
 On desperate reveng-e, that shall redound 85 
 
 Upon his own rebellious head. And now. 
 
 Through all restraint broke loose, he wings his way 
 
 Not far off Heav'n, in the precincts of light. 
 
 Directly tow'rds the new-created world. 
 
 And man there placed, with purpose to assay 90 
 
 ! f him by force he can destroy, or worse. 
 
 By some false guile pervert ; and shall pervert, 
 
 For Man will hearken to his giozing lies, 
 
 \nd easily transgress the sole command, 
 
 Sole pledge of his obedience : So will fall, 95 
 
 He and his faithless progeny. Whose fault 1 
 
 Whose but his own ? Ingrate, he had of me 
 
 All he could have ; I made him just and right, 
 
 Saiiicient to have stood, though free to fall. 
 
 Such I created all th' ethereal Pow'rs 100 
 
 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 
 
 Of true allegiance, constant faith, or love, 
 
 Where only what they needs must do appear'd, 105 
 
 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 served necessity, 110 
 
 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 over-ruled 
 
 Their will, disposed by absolute decree 115 
 
 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 proved certain unforeknown. 
 
 So without least impulse or shadow of fate, 120 
 
 Or aught by me immutably foreseen, 
 
 They trespass, authors to themselves in all 
 
 Both what they judge and what they choose ; for so 
 
 L form'd them free, and free they must remain. 
 
 Till they enthrall themselves ; I else must change 
 
 : 17. If is here used in the sense of though. 
 
72 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Their liuture, and revoke the high decree 126 
 
 Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd 
 Their freedom, they themselves ordain'd their fall. 
 The first sort by their own sug-g-estion fell. 
 Self-tempted, self-depraved : Man falls, deceived 130 
 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 fill'd 
 All Heav'n, and in the blessed Spirits elect 136 
 
 Sense of new joy ineflable diffused. 
 Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
 Most glorious ; in him all his Father shone 
 Substantially express'd ; and in his face 140 
 
 Divine compassion visibly appear'd, 
 Love without end, and without measure grace ; 
 Which utt'ring, thus he to his Father spake : 
 
 O Father, gracious was that word which closed 
 Thy sov'reign sentence, that Man should find grace : 
 For which both Heav'n and Earth shall high extol 146 
 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, 150 
 
 Thy creature late so loved, thy youngest son, 
 Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join'd 
 With his own folly 1 that be from thee far, 
 That far be from thee, Father, who art Judge 
 Of all things made, and judgest only right. 155 
 
 Or shall the Adversary thus obtain 
 His end, and frustrate thine ? Shall he fulfil 
 His malice, and thy goodness bring to nought. 
 Or proud return, though to his heavier doom. 
 Yet with revenge accomplished, and to Hell 160 
 
 Draw after him the whole race of mankind 
 By him cori'upted ? Or, wilt thou thyself 
 Abolish thy creation, and unmake. 
 For him, what for thy glory thou hast made ? 
 
 135. A difference is here marked in the effect which Homer 
 and Milton attribute to the speeches of their several Dfiities, 
 the one raalsinsr terror, the odier delig-ht, the consequence. 
 140. See Hel^ i. 3. 153. See Gen. xviii. 25. 
 
BOOK III. 73 
 
 So should thy g'oodness and thy greatness both \65 
 Be question'd and blavSphemed without defence. 
 
 To whom the great Creator thus reply 'd : 
 O Son, in whom my soul hath chief delight, 
 Son of my bosom, Son who art alone 
 My word, my wisdom, and effectual might, 170 
 
 All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are ; all 
 As my eternal purpose hath decreed. 
 Man shall not quite be lost, but saved who will, 
 Yet not of will in him, but grace in me 
 Freely vouchsafed. Once more I will renew 17/5 
 His lapsed pow'rs, though forfeit and enthrall'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 180 
 
 His fall'n condition is, and to me owe 
 All his deliv'rance, and to none but me 
 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 IS/J 
 Their sinful state, and to appease betimes 
 Th' incensed Deity, while offer'd grace 
 Invites ; for I will clear their senses dark. 
 What may suffice, and soften stony hearts 
 To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. 190 
 
 To pray'r, repentance, and obedience 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, 195 
 Light after light well used they shall attain. 
 And, to the end persisting, safe arrive. 
 This my long suff'rance and my day of grace 
 They who neglect and scoi'n, shall never taste ; 
 But hard be harden'd, blind be blinded more, 200 
 That they may stumble on, and deeper fall : 
 And none but such from mercy I exclude. 
 But yet all is not done : Man disobeying, 
 Disloyal breaks his fealty, and sins 
 Against the High Supremacy of Heav'n, 205 
 
 168. The reader will find Jesus Clsrist addressed by these 
 
 titles in different parts of Scripture. 
 
 E 
 
74 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Affecting Godhead, and so losing all, 
 
 To expiate his treason hath nought left. 
 
 But to destruction sacred and devote. 
 
 He, with his whole posterity, must die ; 
 
 Die he or justice must , unless for him 210 
 
 Some other able, and as willing-, pay 
 
 The rig-id satisfaction, death for death. 
 
 Say, heav'nly Pow'rs, where shall we find such love 1 
 
 Which of ye will be mortal to redeem 
 
 Man's mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save ? 215 
 
 Dwells 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 220 
 The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
 And now without redemption all mankind 
 Must have been lost, adjudged to Death and Hell 
 By doom severe, had not the Son of God, 
 In whom the fulness dwells of love divine, 225 
 
 His dearest meditation 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 230 
 
 Comes unprevented, unimplored, unsought 1 
 Happy for man, so coming- : he her aid 
 Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost : 
 Atonement for himself or off'ring meet. 
 Indebted and undone, hath none to bring. 235 
 
 Behold me then ; me for him, life for life 
 1 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 241 
 
 Well pleased : on me let Death wreck, all his rage : 
 Under his gloomy pow'r I shall not long 
 Tiie vanquish*d : thou hast given me to possess 
 
 215. See 1 Peter iii. 18. 217. See Rev. viii. 1. 
 
 231. Unprevented ; prevent is here used accorlinar to its sense 
 In the Latin prcevenire, to come before ; not preceded by any thing 
 fels^ It is used in this manner in one of tlie prayers of our Li- 
 turgy, * Prevent us, O Lord, in all our doiniifs,' ^c. that, is, Let tlsy 
 trrace fii tiripate us in our designs, and so make them just and holy. 
 
BOOK III 75 
 
 Life in myself for ever; by thee T live, 
 
 Though now to Death I yield, and am his due 245 
 
 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 250 
 
 My Vanquisher, spoil'd of his vaunted spoil ; 
 
 Death his death's wound shall then receive, and stoop 
 
 Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarm'd. 
 
 I through the ample air in triumph high 
 
 Shall lead Hell captive maugre Hell, and shew 255 
 
 The Pow'rs of darkness bound. Thou at the sight 
 
 Pleased, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile. 
 
 While by thee raised I ruin all my foes, 
 
 Death last, and with his carcase glut the gi'ave : 
 
 Then with the multitude of my redeem'd 280 
 
 Shall enter Heav'n long absent, and return. 
 
 Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud 
 
 Of anger shall remain, but peace assured 
 
 And reconcilement ; wrath shall be no more 
 
 Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire. 2(35 
 
 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 ofter'd, he attends the will 270 
 
 Of his great Father. Admiration seized 
 All Heav'n, what this might mean, and whither tend, 
 Wond'ring; but soon th' Almighty thus reply*d : 
 
 thou in Heav'n and Earth the only peace 
 Found out for mankind under wrath ! O thoti 275 
 My sole complacence ! well thou know'st how dear 
 To me are all my woiks, nor Man the least. 
 Though last created ; that for him I spare 
 Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save. 
 By losing thee a while, the whole race lost. 280 
 
 244, See John v. 26. 
 249. See Ps, xvi. lo. and Acts ii. 20, 21. 
 252. The punning' character of this line has been justly repro- 
 bated as unworthy ot ihe subject. 
 354. Ps. Ixviii. 18. and Col. ii. 15. 259. 1 (.or. xv. 26. 
 
 2h6. If the reader compare this picture of the Son of God with 
 tha*i in the sixth book, he will be awed and deliyriited with tlif 
 grandeur of Milton's conception of the Messiuli's character 
 
76 PARA DISK 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 s>»aU be, of virg-in seed, 
 
 By wondrous birth : be mou in Adam's room 2S5 
 
 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 restored 
 
 As many' as are restored ; without thee none. 
 
 His crime makes guilty all his sons ; thy merit 290 
 
 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 judged and die, 295 
 
 And dying rise, and rising with him raise 
 
 His brethi'en ransom'd with his own dear life. 
 
 So heav'nly love shall outdo hellish hate, 
 
 Giving to death, and dying to redeem, 
 
 So dearly to redeem what hellish hate 300 
 
 So easily destroy'd, and still destroys 
 
 In those who, when they may, accept not gTace. 
 
 Nor shalt thou, by descendiiig to assume 
 
 Man's nature, lessen or degrade thine own. 
 
 Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss 305 
 
 Equal to God, and equally enjoying 
 
 God-like fruition, quitted all to save 
 
 A world from utter loss, and hast been found 
 
 By merit more than birthinght, Son of God, 
 
 Found worthiest to be so by being good, 310 
 
 Far more than great or high ; because in thee 
 
 Love hath abounded more than glory 'bounds. 
 
 Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt 
 
 With thee thy manhood also to this throne : 
 
 Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign 315 
 
 Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man, 
 
 Anointed Universal King: all pow'r 
 
 I give thee ; reign for ever, and assume 
 
 Thy merits ; under thee as Head Supreme 
 
 287. See 1 f'or. xv. 22. 
 301. Tlie lan^uajje is liere accoranioddted to the eternity ot (ht 
 speaker, to whom past, present, and futi re, are or.e. 
 117. Matt. xxviiL ^e. 
 
BOOK III. 77 
 
 Thrones, Princedoms, Pow'rs, Dominions I reduce : 
 All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide 32] 
 In Heav'n, or Earth, or under Earth in Hell. 
 When thou attended g-loriously from Heav'n 
 Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send 
 The summoning Arch -Angels to proclaim 325 
 
 Thy dread tribunal, forthwith from all winds 
 The living, and forthwith the cited dead 
 Of all past ages, to the gen'ral doom 
 Shall hasten ; such a peal shall rouse their sleep. 
 Then all thy saints assembled, thou shalt judge 330 
 Bad men and Angels ; they arraign'd shall sink 
 Beneath thy sentence : Hell, her numbers full. 
 Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Mean while 
 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 336 
 
 See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds. 
 With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth. 
 Then thou thy regal sceptre shalt lay by, 
 For regal sceptre then no more shall need, 340 
 
 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 ceased, but all 
 The multitude of Angels, with a shout 345 
 
 /Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 
 I As from blest voices, utt'ring joy, Heav'n rung 
 \With jubilee, and loud Hosannas fiU'd 
 Th' eternal regions : lowly reverent 
 Tow'rds either throne they bow, and to the ground 
 With solemn adoration down they cast .351 
 
 Their crowns, inwove with amarant and gold ; 
 Immortal amarant ; a flow'r which once 
 ; In Paradise, fast by the tree of life. 
 
 Began to bloom ; but soon, for man's offence, 355 
 
 321. Philip, ii. 10. 334. 2 Pet. iii. 12, 13. 
 
 335. 1 cannot do better than here recoiiimend to the reader, the 
 perusal of Dr. Chalmers' powerfully interesting sermon on tlie 
 subject of a new Heaven and a new "Earth. 
 
 341. 1 Cor. XV. 28. and Ps. xcvii. 7. and Heb. i. 6. 
 
 343. John v. 23. 
 
 351. Rev. iv. 10. 
 
 353. Amaraiil, a flower whose beauty never fades. Allusion U 
 made here to \ Pet. i. 4. and 1 Pet, v, 4, 
 
73 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To Heav'n removed, where first it grew, there gTOWS, 
 And iiow'rs aloft, shading- the fount of life. 
 And where the riv'r of bliss tliroiigh midst of Heav'n 
 Rolls o'er Elysian fiow'rs her amber stream; 
 With these, that never fade, the Spirits elect 360 
 Bind their resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams, 
 Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright 
 Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 
 Impurpled with celestia] roses smiled. 
 Then crown'd again, their golden harps they took, 
 Harps ever tuned, that glitt'ring by their side 366 
 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 / 370 
 Melodious part, — such concord is in Heav'n. / 
 ~"^"*'Thee, Father, first they sung. Omnipotent, 
 Immutable, Immortal, Iniinite, 
 Eternal King ; thee, Author of all being, 
 Fountain of Light, thyself invisible 375 
 
 Amidst the glorious brightness wliere thou sitt'st 
 Throned inaccessible, but v.iien thou shad'st 
 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, 380 
 Yet dazzle Heav'n, that brightest Seraphim 
 Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. 
 Thee, next they sang-, of all creation first. 
 Begotten Son, Divine Similitude, 
 
 In whose conspicuous count'nance, Vv'ithout cloud 385 
 Made visible, th' Almighty Father shines, 
 Whom else no creature can behold : on thee 
 Impress'd th' efiulgence of his glory 'bides. 
 Transfused on thee his ample Spirit rests. 
 He Heav'n of Heav'ns and all the Pow'rs therein 390 
 By thee created, and by thee threw down 
 Th' aspiring Dominations: thou that day 
 "^hy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare, 
 
 858. The happiness of Heaven is repeatedly compared in Scrip 
 -Are to a fountain or river. 
 
 380. The same idea is in Tasso, Can. 9. st. 57. and in Spenser^B 
 iynin to Heavenly Beauty. 
 
 382. See Isaiah vi. 2. 
 383. Col. i. 15. }?cv. iii. 14. 3?7. John i. 18. xiv, H, 
 
BOOK Hi. 7g 
 
 Nor stop thy flaming' chariot- wheels, that shook 
 
 Heav'n's everlasting frame, while o'er the necks 'S95 
 
 Thou drov'st of warring Angels disarray 'd. 
 
 Back from pursuit thy Pow'rs with loud acclaim 
 
 Thee only' extoU'd, Son of thy Father's might. 
 
 To execute fierce vengeance on his foes. 
 
 Not so on Man : Him thro' their malice fall'n, 400 
 
 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 purposed not to doom frail Man 
 
 So strictly, hut much more to pity' inclined, 405 
 
 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, olFer'd himself to die 
 
 For man's offence. O unexampled love ! 410 
 
 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. 4ir» 
 
 Thus they in Heav'n, above the starry sphere, 
 Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. 
 Mean while upon the firm opacous globe 
 Of this round v/orld, whose first convex divides 
 the luminous inferior orbs, inclosed 420 
 
 Prom Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old, 
 Satan alighted walks : a globe far off 
 It seem'd, now seems a boundless continent 
 Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night 
 Starless exposed, and ever-threat'ning storms 425 
 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. 43C 
 As when a vulture on Imaus bred. 
 Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, 
 
 412. Milton has been hitherto professedly repeating the sulv 
 stance of the angels' song. He here speaks or his own deter- 
 mination. 
 
 431. ImaitSf a celebrated mountain in Asia. 
 G 
 
80 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Dislodging from a region scarce of prey 
 
 To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids 434 
 
 On hills where flocks are fed, flies toward the springs 
 
 Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams ; 
 
 But in his way lights on the barren jiains 
 
 Of Sericana, where Chineses drive 
 
 With sails and wind their cany waggons light : 
 
 So on this windy sea of land, the Fiend 440 
 
 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 aereal vapours flew 445 
 
 Of all things transit'ry 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 ; 450 
 
 All who have their reward on earth, the fruits 
 
 Of painful superstition and blind zeal, 
 
 Nought seeking but the praise of men, here And 
 
 Fit retribution, empty as their deeds : 
 
 All th' unaccomplish'd works of Nature's hand, 455 
 
 Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mix'd. 
 
 Dissolved on earth, fleet hither, and in vain. 
 
 Till fmal dissolution, wander here ; 
 
 Not in the neighb'ring moon, as some have dream 'd; 
 
 Those argent fields more likely habitants, 460 
 
 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, 464 
 
 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 ^tna flames, 470 
 
 438. Sericana ; that part of India called Calhay : it is n-mark- 
 able for the smoothness of its plains. The description of Limbo, 
 which follcwb, has been greatly reprobated by Mr. Addison, and 
 others. But here, as in other places, Milton is best defended by 
 calling to mind the character and design of his poem. 
 
 463. See Gen. vi. 4. 467. Sennaar, or Shinar. 
 
BOOK Hi. 81 
 
 Empedocles ; and lie 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. 475 
 
 Here Pilg-rims roam, that stray'd so far to seek 
 
 In Golgotha himi dead, who lives in Heav'n ; 
 
 A.nd they who, to be sure of Paradise, 
 
 Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, 
 
 Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised: 480 
 
 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 moved ; 
 
 And now Saint Peter at Heav'n's wicket seems 
 
 To wait them with his keys, and now at foot 485 
 
 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 
 
 Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers, tost 
 
 And flutter'd into rags ; then reliques, beads, 491 
 
 Indulgences, dispenses^, pardons, bulls, 
 
 The sport of winds : all these upwhirl'd aloft 
 
 Fly o'er the backside of the world far oft' 
 
 Into a Limbo large and broad, since call'd 495 
 
 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 tum'd thitherward in haste 500 
 
 His traveird 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 Avork as of a kingly palace gate, 
 
 471. Empedoclef was a Pythag'orean philosopher, who threw 
 himself into the crater of Mo mt' Etna. 
 
 473. Cleombrotus was a young man, who, having been deeply 
 interebted with Plato's reflections on the immortality of the soul, 
 leaped into the sea that he might at once enjoy the "felicity men- 
 tioned. 
 
 482. Milton here foUows the ancient or Ptolemaic system of 
 a-'tronomy. Tasso mentions the same spheres in describing Mi- 
 chael's descent fYom heaven, only in an inverse order. 
 
 489. The second person is here put indefinitely; then might w 
 seen 
 
 E 2 
 
82 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With frontispiece of diamond and gold 
 
 Embellish'd : thick with sparkling- orient gems 
 
 The portal shone, inimitable on earth 
 
 By model, or by shading pencil drawn. 
 
 The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw 510 
 
 Angels ascending and descending, bands 
 
 Of guardians bright, when he from Esau fled 
 
 To Padan-Aram in the field of Lax, 
 
 Dreaming by night under the open sky. 
 
 And waking cry'd, This is the gate of Heav'n. 515 
 
 Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 
 
 There always, but drawn up to Heav'n sometimes 
 
 Viewless : and underneath a bright sea fiow'd 
 
 Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon 
 
 Who after came from earth, sailing arrived, 520 
 
 Wafted by Angels, or flew o'er the lake 
 
 Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. 
 
 The stairs were then let down, whether to dare 
 
 The Fiend by easy 'scent, or aggravate 
 
 His sad exclusion from the doors of bliss : 525 
 
 Direct against which open'd from beneath. 
 
 Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise, 
 
 A passage down to th' Earth, a passage wide, 
 
 Wider by far than that of after-times 
 
 Over mount Sion, and, though that were large, 530 
 
 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 535 
 
 To Beersaba, where the Holy Land 
 
 Borders on Egypt and th' 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 540 
 
 That scaled 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 541 
 
 510. See Gen. xxviii. 12, 13. 
 
 534 Passed freque7it, is to be understood after regard, 
 
 *»40. The description and comparison here are very noble. 
 
BOOK III. 83 
 
 Obtains the brow of some high -climbing hill, 
 Which to his eye discovers unaware 
 The goodly prospect of some foreign laud 
 First seen, or some renown 'd metropolis 
 With glist'ring spires and pinnacles adorn'd, 550 
 Which new the rising Sun gilds with his beams : 
 Such wonder seized, though after Heaven seen. 
 The Spirit malign, but much more envy seized, 
 At sight of all this world beheld so fair. 554 
 
 Round he surveys (and well might, where he stood 
 So high above the circling canopy 
 Of Night's extended shade) from eastern point 
 |0f Libya to the fleecy star that bears 
 I Andromeda far off Atlantic seas 
 
 ?^eyond th' horizon ; then from pole to pole 560 
 
 He views in breadth, and without longer pause 
 Down right into the world's first region thj'ows 
 His flight precipitant, and win-ds with ease 
 |Through the pure marble air his oblique way 
 \Amongst innumerable stars, that shone 565 
 
 Stars distant, but nigh hand seem'd other worlds ; 
 |0r other worlds they seem'd, or happy isles, \ 
 jvLike those Hesperian gardens famed of old, h 
 ^Fortunate fields, and groves, and flow'ry vales,/ 
 Thrice happy isles; but who dwelt happy there 570 
 He stay'd not to inquire : above them all 
 The golden Sun, in splendovir likest lleav'n, 
 Allured his eye : thither his course he bends 
 Thrmigh the calm firmament (but up or down, 
 By centre, or eccentric, hard to tell, 575 
 
 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 580 
 
 Days, months, and years, tow'rds his all-cheering lamp i 
 Turn swift their various motions, or are turn'd 
 By his magnetic beam, that gently warms 
 The universe, and to each inward part 
 
 558 Constellations directly opposite to earh other. 'V\ie fleecy 
 Btur is Aries, which is said to bear Andromeda, because jus! 
 under it. 
 
 568. Hesperian gardens ; celebrated among- the ancients, and 
 gupposed to have been the Cape Verd Islands. 
 
84 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Wifh gentle penetration, though unseen, 585 
 
 Shoots invisible virtue ev'n to the deep ; 
 
 So wondrously was set his station bright. 
 
 There lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhaps 
 
 Astronomer in the Sun's lucent orb 
 
 Through his glazed optic tube yet never saw. 590 
 
 The place he found beyond expression bright, 
 
 Compar'd with aught on earth, metal or stone ; 
 
 Not all parts like, but all alike inform'd 
 
 With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire ; 
 
 If metal, part seem'd gold, part silver clear ; 595 
 
 If stone, carbuncle most, or chrysolite, 
 
 Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone 
 
 In Aaron's breast-plate, and a stone besides 
 
 Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen, 
 
 That stone, or like to that which here below 600 
 
 Philosophers in vain so long have sought ; 
 
 In vain, though by their pow'rful art they bind \ 
 
 |Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound i 
 
 |In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, 
 
 Drain'd through a limbec to his native form. 605 
 
 What wonder then if fields and regions here 
 
 Breathe forth Elixir pure, and rivers run 
 
 Potable gold, when with one virtuous touch 
 
 Th' areh-chemic Sun, so far from us remote, 
 
 Produces with terrestrial humour mix'd 610 
 
 Here in the dark so many precious things 
 
 Of 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, 615 
 
 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 620 
 
 To objects distant far, whereby he soon 
 
 Saw within ken a glorious Angel stand. 
 
 603. Hermes, or Mercury; Protens was a sea-god, celebrated 
 as is well known for the variety of shapes he had the power of 
 taking; the ancients meant to express, under the name of this 
 fabulous beins:, the first principle of thing-s. The stoi.e alluded 
 to is that by which philosophers hoped to turn all tl!iii-.^s iiito gold. 
 
BOOK ill. 85 
 
 The same whom John saw also iu the Sun. 
 His back was tarn'd, but not his brightness hid : 
 Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar C25 
 
 Circled his head, nor less his locks behind 
 Illustrious on his shoulders fledge with wings 
 Lay waving" round. On some great charg-e employ'd 
 He seem'd, or fix'd in cogitation deep. 
 Glad was the Spirit impure, as now in hope 630 
 
 To find who might direct his wand'ring flight 
 To Paradise, the happy seat of Man, 
 His journey's end, and our beg'inning woe. 
 But first he casts to change his proper shape, 
 Which else might work him dang-er or delay : 635 
 And now a stripling Cherub he appears. 
 Not of the prime, yet such as in his face 
 Youth smiled celestial, and to ev'ry limb 
 Suitable grace diffused, so well he feign'd : 
 Under a coronet his flowing- hair 640 
 
 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. 
 He drew not nigh unheard: the Angel bright, 645 
 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 are his eyes 650 
 
 Tliat run through all the Heav'ns, 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 sev'n Spirits that stand 
 In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, 655 
 The first art wont his great authentic v/ill 
 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 CSC 
 
 To visit oft this new creation round ; 
 
 623. See Rev, xix. 17. 
 
 627. Instead oi , fledged for softness. 
 
 643. Succi7ict , ready or prepared. 
 
 844. Decent, used in the I^atin sense, graceful and beaatifuU 
 
 650. Zech. iv. 10. Tobit xii. 15. Rev. i. 4. v. 6. viii. 2. 
 
86 PARVDISE LOST. 
 
 Unspeakable desire to see, and know 
 
 A.11 these his wondrous works, but chiefly Man, 
 
 His chief delight and favour ; him for whom 
 
 All these his works so wondrous he ordain'd, 065 
 
 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 ; 670 
 
 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 pour'd ; 
 
 That both in him and all things, as is meet, 075 
 
 The Universal Maker we may praiso. 
 
 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. 680 
 
 ^ So spake the false Dissembler un^rceived ; 
 
 / For neither Man nor Angel can disce?K 
 
 I Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks ^ 
 
 I Invisible, except to God alone^^^.^'-'"'''^ 
 
 ^By his permissive will, thro' Keav'n and Earth: &%^ 
 And oft though W^isdom wake. Suspicion sleeps 
 At Wisdom's gate, and to Simplicity 
 Resigns her charge, while Goodness thinks tio ill 
 Where no ill seems : which now for once beguiled 
 Uriel, though regent of the Sun, and held 690 
 
 The sharpest sighted Spirl'*; of all in Heav'n ; 
 Who to the fraudulent imposi:or foul 
 In his uprightness answer thus return'd : 
 
 Fair Angel, thy desire, which tends to know 
 The works of God, thereby to glorify 095 
 
 The great Work-Master, leads to no <^.xcess 
 That reaches blame, but rather merits praise 
 The more it seems excess, that led thee hither 
 From thy empyreal mansion thus alone. 
 To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps 70* 
 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 : 
 
BOOK IIJ. 8t 
 
 But what created mind can comprehend 705 
 
 Their numbe?', or the wisdom infinite 
 
 That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep 1 
 
 I saw when at his v/ord the formless mass, 
 
 This world's material mould, came to a heap: 
 
 Confusion heard his voice, and wild Uproar 710 
 
 Stood ruled, stood vast Infinitude confined ; 
 
 Till at his second bidding- Darkness fled, 
 
 Light shone, and Order from Disorder sprang: 
 
 Swift to their sev'ral quarters hasted then 
 
 The cumbrous elements, Earth, Flood, Air, Fire ; 715 
 
 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 ; 720 
 
 The rest in circuit walls this universe. 
 
 Look downward on that globe, whose hither side 
 
 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, 725 
 
 Night would invade ; but there the neig'hb'ring moon 
 
 (So call that opposite fair star) her aid 
 
 Timely' interposes, and her monthly round 
 
 Still ending-, still renewing, through mid Hear'n, 
 
 With borrow'd light her countenance triform 730 
 
 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 bow'r. 
 
 Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires. 735 
 
 Thus said, he turn'd; and Satan bowing* low. 
 As to superior Spirits is wont in Heav'n, 
 Where honour due and rev'rence none neglects. 
 Took leave, and tow'rd the coast of earth beneath, 
 Down from th' ecliptic, sped with hoped success, 740 
 Throws his steep flight in many an aery wheel, 
 Nor stay'd, till on Niphates' top he lights. 
 
 730. Triform, so called from her increase and decrease towards 
 east and west, and her fulness. 
 
 742. Niphates, a mountain on the borders of Armenia, roM 
 which Paradise is supposed to have been situated. 
 
BOOK IV 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan now in prospect of Eden, and nioh the place whe/e .,e 
 must now attempt the bold enterprise which lie undertook alone 
 ag-ainst God and Man, falls into many doubts witli himself, and 
 many passions, fear, envy, and despair; but at length confirms 
 himself in evil, journeys on to I'aradise, whose outward prospect 
 and situation is described, overleaps tlie bounds, sits in the sliape 
 ot 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 tlieir excellent form and happy 
 slate, but with resolution to work tlieir fall ; overhears tlieir dis- 
 course, 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 seducino: them to transgress; then leaves 
 them a while, to know "further of their state by some other means. 
 Meanwhile Uriel, descendins: on a sun-beam, warns Gabriel, who 
 had in charge the gate of Varadise, that some evii Spirit had 
 escaped 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 hiin ere morn- 
 ing. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of going to their 
 rest: their bower described; their evening worship. Gabriel 
 drawing forth his bands of night-watcli to walk the round of Pa- 
 radise, "appoints two ftrong Angels to Adam's bower, lest the evii 
 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 hindered by a sign 
 from Heaven, flies out of Paradise. 
 
 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 revenged on men, 
 
 Woe to th' inhabitants on earth !' that now, 5 
 
 While time was, our first parents had been wam'd 
 The coming- of their secret foe, and 'scaped. 
 Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare : for now 
 Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down, 
 The tempter ere th' accuser of mankind, 10 
 
 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 
 
 1. There is great propriety in the opening of the present 
 book. The grand subject of the relation which St. John gave of 
 the Apocalypse or Revelation he received, is the overthrow of 
 Satan, whose first attempts upon Man's purity and happiness form 
 the ground- work of this part of the poem. 
 
BOOK IV. 89 
 
 Fai* off and fearless, noi- with cause to boast, 
 
 Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth 15 
 
 Now rolling, boils in his tumultuous breast^ 
 
 And, like a dev'lish engine, back recoils 
 
 Upon himself: horror and doubt distract 
 
 His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir 
 
 ■Jl'he Plell within him ; for within him Hell 20 
 
 He brings, and round about him ; nor from Hell 
 
 One step no more than from himself can fly 
 
 By change of place : now Conscience wakes Despair 
 
 That slumber d, wakes the bitter memory 
 
 Of what he was, what is, and what must be 25 
 
 Worse ; of worse deeds worse suff'rings must ensue. 
 
 Sometimes tow'rds Eden, which now in his view 
 
 Lay pleasant, his grieved look he iixes sad ; 
 
 Sometimes tow'rds Heav'n and the full-blazing Sun, 
 
 Which now sat high in his meridian tow'r: 30 
 
 Then much revolving, thus in sighs began : 
 
 O thou that with sui-passing 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, 35 
 
 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 40 
 Warring in Heav'n against Heav'n's matchless King : 
 Ah wherefore ! he deserved no such return 
 From me, whom he created Avhat I was 
 In that bright eminence, and with his good 
 Upbraided none ; nor was his service hard. 45 
 
 What could be less than to afford him praise. 
 The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, 
 How due ! yet all his good proved ill in me. 
 And vio'ought but malice ; lifted tip so high, 
 I sdeign'd subjection, and thought one step higher 
 Would set me high'st, and in a moment quit 51 
 
 The debt immense of endless gi-atitude, 
 
 24. Memory is here used in the sense of reflection or conside- 
 ration. 
 
 32. Milton first thought of writing a tragedy on the Loss of Pa- 
 radise, and the first ten lines of this speech formed its opening. 
 50. Sdeign'd, for disdain'' d, from the Italian, sdegiiare. 
 
90 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 So burdensome still paying-, still to owe, 
 Forgetful what frcra Him I still received, 
 And understood not that a grateful mind 35 
 
 By owing' owes not, but still pays, at once 
 Indebted and discharged : what burden then ? 
 O had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd 
 Me some inferior Ang-el, I had stood 
 Then happy ; no unbounded hope had raised 60 
 
 Ambition. Yet, why not ? some other Pow'r, 
 As great might have aspired, and me, though mean, 
 Drawn to his part ; but other Pow'rs as great 
 Fell not, but stand un.haken, from within 
 Or from without, to all temptations ai-m'd. 65 
 
 Hadst thou the same free will and pow'r to stand ? 
 Thou hadst. Whom hast thou then or what t' accuse, 
 But Heav'n's free love dealt equally to all? 
 Be then his love accursed, since love or hate, 
 To me alike, it deals eternal woe. 70 
 
 Na}^, cursed be thou ; since against his thy will 
 Chose freely what it now so justly rues. 
 /%le miserable ! which way shall I fly^"" 
 Infinite wrath', and infinite despair? 
 Which way I fly is Hell ; myself am Hell ; 75 
 
 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? 80 
 
 Kone left but by submission ; and that word 
 Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame 
 Among- the Spirits beneath, whom I seduced 
 With other promises and other vaunts 
 Than to submit, boasting I could subdue 85 
 
 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 advanced, 01 
 
 The lov/er still I fall, only supreme 
 In misery Ksuch joy ambition finds. 
 But say I could repent, and could obtain 
 
 55. Understood not, to be connected with the preceding verl'N. 
 
BOOK IV, 91 
 
 By act of grace my former state, Low soon 94 
 
 Would higlith recall high thoughts, how soon unsay 
 
 What feigu'd submission swore ! ease would recant 
 
 Vows made in pain, as violent and void ; 
 
 For never can trxie reconcilement g-row 
 
 Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep : 
 
 Which would but lead me to a worse relapse, lUO 
 
 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. 
 
 All hope excluded thus, behold, instead 105 
 
 Of us outcast, exiled, 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 110 
 
 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 face ; 
 Thrice changed Avith pale, ire, envy, and despair; 115 
 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, 120 
 Artificer of fraud ; and was the first 
 That practised falsehood u.nder saintly show, 
 Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge : 
 Yet not enough had practised to deceive 
 Uriel once warn'd ; whose eye pursued him down 125 
 The way he went, and on th' Assyrian mount 
 Saw him disfigured more than could befall 
 Spirit of happy sort ; his gestures fierce 
 He mark'd and mad demeanour, then alone. 
 As he supposed, all unobserved, unseen. 130 
 
 So on he fares, and to the border comes 
 Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, 
 Now nearer, crowns with her inclosure green. 
 As with a rural mound, the champaign head 
 Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides 135 
 
 With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, 
 
92 
 
 PARADISE LOST 
 
 Access deny'd ; and ovei head up grew. 
 
 Insuperable height of loftiest shade, 
 
 Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching* palm ; 
 
 A sylvan scene ; and as the ranks ascend 14C 
 
 Shade above shade, a woody theatre 
 
 Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops 
 
 The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung ; 
 
 Which to our gen'ral sire gave prospect large 
 
 Into his nether empire neighb'ring round : 145 
 
 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 enamel'd colours mix'd : 
 
 On which the Sun more glad impress 'd his beams 
 
 Than in fair ev'ning cloud, or humid bow, 151 
 
 When God hath show'r'd the earth : so lovely seem'd 
 
 That landskip : and of pure now purer air 
 
 Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires 
 
 Vernal delight and joy, able to drive 155 
 
 All sadness but despair: now gentle gales. 
 
 Fanning their odorif'rous wings, dispense 
 
 Native perfumes, and v^^hisper whence they stole 
 
 Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail 
 
 Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 160 
 
 Mozambique, off at sea north-east winds blow 
 
 Sabean odours from the spicy shore 
 
 Of Araby the Blest ; with such delay [league 
 
 Well pleased they slack their course, and many a 
 
 Cheer'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles : 
 
 So entertain'd those odorous sweets the Fiend 166 
 
 Who came their bane, though with them better pleased 
 
 Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume 
 
 That drove him, though enamour'd, from the spouse 
 
 151. The description which Milton has g-iven of Paradise is 
 similar to those of Homer, Spenser, and Tasso, in their accounts 
 of the irardens in which the scene of their poems sometimes lies. 
 To these may be added Ariosto's and Marino's, it beinsr g-enerdily 
 allowed, thi;t Ihoug-h Milton's is superior to any other, that the 
 Italian come nearest in beauty and perfection. 
 
 158. An imitation is here observed of Shakspearein the Twelfth 
 Ni^ht, or of Ariosto, Orlan. Fin. 6. 34. st. 51. 
 
 162. Mozamhiqtie is an island on the eastern coast of Africa. 
 
 As the north-east wind blows contrary to those who have doubled 
 
 the Cape, they are nence oblig'ed to slack thfir course. — Sabean 
 
 from Saba, a city and province of Arabia Feliy 
 
 168. See Tobit viii. 
 
150 OK IV. 93 
 
 Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent 170 
 
 From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound. 
 Now to th' ascent of that steep savage hill 
 Satan had journey'd on, pensive and slow; 
 But further v/ay found none, so thick intwined, 
 As one continued brake, the undergrowth 175 
 
 Of shrubs and tang'ling bushes had perplex'd 
 All path of man or beast that pass'd that way : 
 One g'ate 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, 180 
 At one slight bound high overleap'd all bound 
 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 cots amid the lield secure, 180 
 
 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, 190 
 
 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, 195 
 Sat like a cormorant ; yet not true life 
 Thereby regain'd, but sat devising death 
 To them who lived ; nor on the virtue thought 
 Of that life-giving plant, but only used 
 For prospect, what well used had been the pledge 
 Of immortality. So little knows 201 
 
 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 20o 
 To all delight of human sense exposed 
 in narrow room Nature's whole wealth, yea more, 
 A Heav'n on Earth : for blissful Paradise 
 
 183. A wolf is a frequent subject of comparison in the |)ot;iSj 
 out for the whole of this, see John x. 1. 
 
 193, Lewd, impious or wicked. 
 
 195. Gen. ii. 9. In the midst, signifies the excellency as we i 
 ss the situation of the tree. 
 
9t PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of God the garden was. by him in th' east 
 
 Of Eden planted; Eden stretch'd her line 210 
 
 From Auran eastward to the royal tow'rs 
 
 Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings, 
 
 Or where tlie sons of Eden long before 
 
 Dwelt in Telassar. In this pleasant soil 
 
 His far more pleasant gai'den God ordain'd ; 215 
 
 Out of the fertile ground he caused 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 ; and next to life, 220 
 
 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 changed his course, but thro' the shaggy hill 
 
 Pass'd underneath ingulf'd ; for God had thrown 225 
 
 That mountain as his garden mould high raised 
 
 iJpon the rapid current, which thro' veins 
 
 Of porous earth with kindly thirst np drawn, 
 
 Rose a fresh fountain, and v/ith many a rill 
 
 Water'd the garden : thence united fell 230 
 
 Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, 
 
 Whic-h from his darksome passage noAV appears. 
 
 And now divided into four main streams, 
 
 Runs diverse, wand'ring many a famous realm 
 
 And country, whereof here needs no account; 235 
 
 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, visiiing each plant, and fed 240 
 
 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 w'here the morning Sun first warmly smote 
 
 The open field, and where the unpierced shade 245 
 
 209. Gen. ii. 8. Seleucia, a city on the river Tigris, built by one 
 of Alexander's successors. — Telassar was a country on the borders 
 of Assyria.— See Isa. xxxvii. 12. 
 
 233. Gen. ii. 10. 
 
 238. So Pactolus, Uernms, &c. are said to have rolled over gpoM 
 311(1 g-ems. 
 
B<;oK IV. 95 
 
 fmbrown'd tlie noontide Low'rs. Thus was this place 
 A. happy rural seat of vai'ious view ; 
 Groves whose rich trees wept od'rous g-ums and balm, 
 Others whose fruit burnish'd with golden rind 
 Hung- amiable, Hesperian fables true, 250 
 
 If true, here only', and of delicious taste : 
 Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 
 Grazing' the tender herb, were interposed, 
 Or palmy hillock ; hv the flow'ry lap 
 Of some irrigiious valley spread her store, 255 
 
 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 
 Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps 
 Luxuriant : mean while murm'ring waters fall 260 
 Down the slope hills, dispersed, 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 held and grove, attune 265 
 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 gath'ring flow'rs, 
 Herself a fairer flow'r by gloomy Dis 270 
 
 Was gather'd, which cost Ceres all that pain 
 To set;k her through the world , nor that sweet grove 
 Of Daphne by Orontes, and th' inspired 
 Castalian spring, might with this Paradise 
 Of P^den strive ; nor that Nyseian isle 275 
 
 Girt with the river Triton, v/here old Cham, 
 Whom Gentiles Amnion call and Lybian Jove, 
 Hid Amalthea and hex florid son 
 Young Bacchus from his step-dame Rhea's eye j 
 Nor where Abassin kings their issue guard, 280 
 
 Moxvnt A.mara, though this by some supposed 
 
 246. Imbrowii'd, from the Italian. 
 
 256. Bentley objects to this passage as puerile, but in his usual 
 spirit of hyperoriticism. 
 
 266. Pan was a symbol of nature among' the ancients. The 
 graces of mytholog-lcal allusion were never more beautifully em- 
 ployed than "in the whole of this passag^e. 
 
 281. Mount Amara was where the Abyssinian kings kept their 
 chihlren guarded. It was inclostd with alabaster rocks, which it 
 took a day to ascend. 
 
 H 
 
yO PARADISE LOST. 
 
 True Paradise under the Ethiop line 
 
 By Nilus' head, inclosed with shining" rock, 
 
 A whole day's journey high, but wide remote 
 
 From this Assyrian garden, where the Fiend 285 
 
 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, 290 
 
 And worthy seem'd ; for in their looks divine 
 
 The image of their glorious Maker shone, 
 
 Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure, 
 
 i^Severe but in true filial freedom placed). 
 
 Whence true authority in men ; though both 295 
 
 Not equal, as their sex not equal seem'd : 
 
 For contemplation he and valour form'd; 
 
 For softness she and sweet attractive grace ; 
 
 He for God only, she for God in him : 
 
 His fair larg'e front and eye sublime, declared 300 
 
 Absolute rule ; and hyacin thine 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 305 
 
 Dishevell'd, but in wanton ringlets waved 
 
 As the vine curls her tendrils ; which imply'd 
 
 Subjection, but required with gentle sway. 
 
 And by her yielded, by him best received ; 
 
 Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, 31C 
 
 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 trovibled all mankind 315 
 
 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. 320 
 
 So hand in hand they pass'd, the loveliest pair 
 
 That ever since in love's euibraces met ; 
 
 299. Dr. Beiitley has proposed with propriety, the reading ot 
 
 and instejxd of in in thU lin.:. 
 
BOOK IV. ^ 
 
 Adnni the goodliest man of raen since born 
 Hi5= sons ' the fairest of her daughters Eve. 
 Under a tuft of shade that on a green 325 
 
 Stccf' whisp'ring" soft, by a fresh fountain side 
 They sat them down ; and after no more toil 
 of their sweet gard'ning- labour than sufficed 
 To reconanend cool Zephyr, and made ease 
 More easy, wholesome tJiirst and appetite 330 
 
 More grateful, to their supper-fruits they fell, 
 Nectarine fruits which the compliant boughs 
 Yielded them, side-loDg as they sat recline 
 On the soft downy bank damask'd with flow'rs. 
 Fhe savoury pulp they chev/, and in the rind 335 
 Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming stream ; 
 Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles 
 Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems 
 Fair couple linlc'd in happy nuptial league, 
 Alone as they. About them frisking play'd 310 
 
 All l)easts 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, 315 
 To make them mirth, used 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 350 
 
 Couch'd, and now fill'd with pasture, gazin:^ sat, 
 Or bed ward ruminating ; for the Sun, 
 Declined, was hasting now with prone caieer 
 To th' ocean isles, and in th' ascending- scale 
 Of Heav'n the stars that usher ev'ning rose : 355 
 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 I 
 Into our room of bliss thus high advanced 
 Creatixres of other mould, earth-born perhaps, 360 
 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 
 
 362. Ps. viii. 5, Heb. '•• 7. 
 F 
 
98 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The Hand tliat form'd them on their shape liatb 
 
 pour'd. 'W5 
 
 A.h, g-entle pair, ye little think how nigh 
 Your change approaches, when all these deligh*i< 
 Will vanish and deliver ye to woe, 
 More woe, the more your taste is now of joy .' 
 Kappy, but for so happy ill secured 3?0 
 
 Long to continue, and this hig-h seat your Heav'n 
 111 fenced for Heav'n to keep out such a foe 
 As now is enter'd ; yet no purposed foe 
 To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn 
 Though I unpitied ; League with you I seek, 375 
 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, 380 
 
 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 nari'ov/ limits, to receive 
 Your numerous offspring- ; if no better place, 385 
 
 Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge 
 On you who wrong- me not, for him who wrong'd. 
 And should I at your harmless innocence 
 Melt, as I do, yet public reason just. 
 Honour and empire with revenge enlargeo, 390 
 
 By conqu'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, excused his dev'lisli deeds. 
 Then from his lofty stand on that high tree 395 
 
 Down he alights among the sportful herd 
 Of those four-footed kinds, himself now one. 
 Now other, as their shape served best his end 
 Nearer to view his prey, and unespy'd 
 To mark what of their state he more might learn 400 
 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, theii rising changes oft 40,1 
 His couchant watch, as one who chose his gTOund 
 
BOOK IV. qu 
 
 Wlience rushing he might surest seize them both 
 Griped in each paw : when Adam, first of men 
 To first of women Eve, thus moving- speech, 
 Turn'd him all ear to hear new utt'rance flow : 410 
 
 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 
 As liberal and free as infinite ; 415 
 
 That raised us from the dust, and placed us here 
 In all this happiness, who at his hand 
 Have nothing merited, nor can perform 
 Aught whereof he hath need ; he v/ho requires 
 From us no other service than to keep 420 
 
 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, 425 
 Some dreadful thing- no doubt; for well thou know^'st 
 God hath pronounced it death to taste that tree, 
 The only sign of our obedience left 
 Among so many signs of pow'r and rule 
 Conferr'd upon us, and dominion giv'n 430 
 
 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 : 435 
 
 But let us ever praise him, and extol 
 His bounty, following our delightful task 
 To prune these growing plants, and tend these flov/'rs ; 
 Which, were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet. 
 
 To whom thus Eve reply'd : thou for whom 440 
 And from v,'hom I was form'd flesh of thy flesh. 
 And without v/hom 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 445 
 
 So far the happier lot, enjoying thee 
 Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou 
 Like consort to thyself canst no where find. 
 421. Gen. il. 16. also Gen. i. 28. 
 
100 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 That day I oft remember, when from sleep 
 
 I first awaked, and found myself reposed 4.10 
 
 Under a shade on flow'rs, much wond'ring where 
 
 And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. 
 
 Not distant far from thence u murm'ring- sound 
 
 Of waters issued from a cave, and spread 
 
 Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved 455 
 
 Pure as th' expanse of Heav'n. I thither went 
 
 With unexperienced 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 bent dow^n to look, just opposite 4G0 
 
 A shape within the wat'ry gleam appear'd. 
 
 Bending to look on me. I started back ; 
 
 It started back : but pleased 1 soon return'd ; 
 
 Pleased it return'd as soon v/ith answ'ring looks 
 
 Of sympathy and love : there I had fix'd 465 
 
 Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire, 
 
 Had not a voice thus warn'd me. What thou seest, 
 
 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 470 
 
 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 thence be call'd 
 
 Mother of Human Race. What could I do 475 
 
 But follow straight, invisibly thus led 1 
 
 Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall. 
 
 Under a platan ; yet methought less fair, 
 
 Less winning soft, less amiably mild, 
 
 Than that smooth wat'ry image. Back I turn'd : 480 
 
 Thou following cry'dst aloud, Return, fair Eve; 
 
 Whom fly'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 
 
 Substantial life, to have thee by my side 485 
 
 Henceforth an individual solace dear; 
 
 Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim 
 
 My other half: with that thy gentle hand 
 
 451, Milton's first edition read thus; the second, Under a sltad^t 
 
 offiow''Ys, but they reposed not under, but on tlowera- 
 
 483. Gen ii. 23. 
 
BOOR IV. 101 
 
 Seized mine ; I yielded, and from that time see 
 How beauty is excell'd by manly grace 490 
 
 And wisdcm, which alone is truly fair. 
 
 So spake our gen'ral mother, and with eyes 
 Of conjugal attraction unreproved, 
 And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd 
 On our first father ; half her swelling- breast 495 
 
 Naked met his under the flowing gold 
 Of her loose tresses hid : he in delight. 
 Both of her beauty and submissive charms, 
 Smiled with superior love, as Jupiter 
 On Juno smiles when he impregns the clouds 500 
 That shed May flow'rs ; and press'd her matron Jip 
 With kisses pure. Aside the Devil turn'd 
 For envy, yet with jealous leer malign 
 Eyed them askance, and to himself thus 'plain'd ; 
 
 Sight hateful I sight tormenting ! thus these two, 
 Imparadised in one another's arms, 506 
 
 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, 5i0 
 
 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, 
 Foi'bidden them to taste : Knowledge forbidden? 515 
 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 heir faith 1 62(1 
 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 whom knowledge might exalt 5*25 
 Equal with Cods : aspiring to be such, 
 They taste and die. What likelier can ensue? 
 But first -with narrow search I must walk round 
 
 499. .Jupiter is here fig-urative of the Heaven, and Juno of the S'l 
 
 50J. Imparadised this word had been used before, b^ 
 
 Sir Pbilip Sidney in the Arcadia. 
 
102 PAJRADISE LOST. 
 
 This garden, and no corner leave unspy'd: 
 
 A chance but chance may lead where I may meet 530 
 
 Some wand'ring- Spirit of Heav'n by fountain side, 
 
 Or in thick shade retired, from him to draw 
 
 What further wouli be learn'd. Live while ye may, 
 
 Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, 
 
 Short pleasures, for long- woes are to succeed. 535 
 
 So saying-, his proud step he scornful turn'd, 
 But with sly circumspection, and began 
 Thro' wood, thro* waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his roam. 
 Meanwhile in utmost longitude, where Heav'n 
 With earth and ocean meets, the setting- Sun 540 
 Slowly descended, and with right aspect 
 Against the eastern gate of Paradise 
 Level! 'd his ev'ning rays : it was a rock 
 Of alabaster, piled up to the clouds. 
 Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent 545 
 
 Accessible from earth, one entrance high; 
 YThe rest was craggy cliff, that overhung 
 Still as it rose, impossible to climb. 
 Betwixt these rock^^ pillars Gabriel sat, 
 Chief of th' angelic guards, awaiting night ; 550 
 
 About him exercised heroic games 
 Th' unarmed 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 th' even 555 
 On a sun-beam, swift as a shooting star 
 In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fired 
 Impress the air, and shews the mariner 
 From what point of his compass to beware 
 Impetuous winds. He thus began in haste : 560 
 
 Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath giv'n 
 Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place 
 No evil thing approach or enter in. 
 This day at highth of noon came to my sphere 
 A. Spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know 565 
 
 More of th' Almighty's works, and chiefly Man, 
 
 549, For mention of Gabriel, see Daniel vii. and ix. also Luke i. 
 his name signifies the man or the power of God. 
 
 555. Through th'' even, or that part of the heavens now becom- 
 ing- dark with the approaching evening-. 
 
 561. This is in allusion to the courses of the priests in the tem- 
 ple service : see 1 Chron. xxiv. and Luke i. 8, 9. 
 
BOOK IV. 108 
 
 God's latest image : I described his way 
 Bent all on speed, and mark'd his aery gait ; 
 But in the mount that lies from Eden north, 
 Where he first lighted, soon discem'd his looks 570 
 Alien from Heav'n, with passions far obscured: 
 Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade 
 Lost sight of him. One of the banish'd crew, 
 I fear, hath ventured from the deep, to raise 
 New troubles : him thy care must be to find. 575 
 
 To whom the winged warrior thus return'd : 
 Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight. 
 Amid the Sun's bright circle, where thou sitt'st, 
 See far and wide : in at this gate none pass 
 The vigilance here placed, but such as come 580 
 Well known from lleav'n ; and since meridian hour 
 No creature thence : if Spirit of other sort 
 So minded, have o'erleap'd these earthy bounds 
 On purpose, hard thou know'st it to exclude 
 Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. 585 
 
 But if within the circuit of these walks, 
 In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom 
 I'hou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know. 
 
 So promised he ; and Uriel to his charge 589 
 
 Return'don that bright beam, whose point now raised, 
 Bore him slope downward to the Sun, now falVn 
 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 595 
 Arraying with reflected purple' and gold 
 The clouds that on his western throne attend. 
 Now came still ev'ning on, and twilight grey 
 Had in her sober liv'ry all things clad ; 
 Silence accompanied : for beast and bird, 600 
 
 They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, 
 
 567. The rirst ima^e of God was Christ; the second, Angels; 
 the last, Man. — Described, that is, observed attentively. 
 
 592. The Azoresrire islands in the Atlantic, off the coast of Por- 
 tugal. The word is to be pronounced as three syllables. 
 
 594. Vohibte, with the u pronounced long. 
 
 596. This is the first evening in the time of the poem, and it fur- 
 nishes Milton with an opportunity of putting forth the splendour 
 of his descriptive genius in one of its most magnificent efforts. 
 One of the commentators on this passage absurdly remarks that it 
 was the poet's weak eves made him love to mention the evenmg^ 
 iwilli/ht. 
 
104 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Were slunk, all but the wakeful nig-hting-ale : 
 She all night long' her am'rous descant sung : 
 Silence was pleased. Now glow'd the firmament 
 With living sapphires : Hesperus, that led 005 
 
 The starry host, rode brightest, till the Moon, 
 Rising in clouded majesty, at length 
 Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light, 
 And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.. 
 
 When Adam thus to Eve : Fair Consort,''th' hour 
 Of night, and all things now retired to rest, 611 
 
 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 e*ye-lids. Other creatures all day long 616 
 
 Rove idle, unemploy'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 ; 620 
 
 While other animals inactive 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 ris'n, 
 And at our pleasant labour, to reform 625 
 
 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, 630 
 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, 635 
 
 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. 640 
 Sweet is the breath of Morh, her rising sweet, 
 
 627. Walks in the first edition. 
 628. Manuring ; in tlie sense of the French manoeuvre^ to nuf 
 wage or cultivate. 
 640. The seasons of the day, not of the year, are here meant. 
 
BOOK IV. 105 
 
 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 645 
 After soft show'rs ; and sweet the coming on 
 Of gTateful er'ning mild ; then silent Night, 
 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 650 
 With charm of earliest birds ; nor rising Sun 
 On this delightful land ; nor herb, fruit, flower, 
 Glist'ring with dew ; nor fragrance after showers ; 
 Nor grateful ev'ning mild ; nor silent Night 
 With this her solemn bird, nor walk by Moon, 655 
 Or glitt'ring star-light, without thee is sweet. 
 But wherefore all night long shine these ? For whom 
 This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut ail eyes O 
 To whom our general ancestor reply'd : -^ 
 
 Daughter of God and Man, accomplish'd Eve, 6f50 
 These have their course to finish round the earth 
 By morrow ev'ning, and from land to land 
 In order, though to nations yet unborn, 
 Minist'ring light prepared, they set and rise ; 
 Lest total darkness should by night regain 665 
 
 Her old possession, and extinguish life 
 In nature and all things, which these soft fires 
 Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat 
 Of various influence, foment and warm. 
 Temper or nourish, or in part shed down 670 
 
 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, 674 
 Shine not in vain ; nor think, tho' men were none. 
 That Heav'n would want spectators, God want praise 
 
 648. A very ingenious essay has been written, by whom I forg-et, 
 to shew that the ancients considered the nighting'ale's song'cheer- 
 fill. 661. Those is read in some editions. 
 
 671. Milton's affectation of learning- has been mentioned an-i 
 objected to. I venture, howevier, to observe, though he may seem 
 to have erred when such passages in his poem are subjected to the 
 severe and particularizing eye of a critic, that, taken as a whole, 
 its grandeur and splendid effect upon the mind would have been 
 considerably less, had these appliances of a high knowledge been 
 unemployed in it illustration. 
 
 F 2 
 
106 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
 Unseen, both when we wake and wlien we sleep. 
 All these with ceaseless praise his works behold, 
 Both day and night. How often from the steep 680 
 Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard 
 Celestial voices to the midnight air, 
 Sole, or responsive each to other's note, 
 Singing their great Creator! Oft in bands 084 
 
 While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk 
 With heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds, 
 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 690 
 
 Chosen 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 gfew 
 Of firm and fragrant leaf : on either side 695 
 
 Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub 
 Fenced up the verdant wall ; each beauteous fiow'r, 
 Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine, 
 Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between, and 
 Mosaic : underfoot the violet, [wrought 
 
 Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay 701 
 
 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 705 
 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-smellbig herbs, 
 Espoused Eve deck'd first her nuptial bed, 710 
 
 And heav'nly choirs the hymenean sung. 
 What day the genial Angel 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 715 
 
 700. Homer, II. xiv. S47. 
 
 714. Pandora, the fable of Pandora's box needs no explanation. 
 
 — iuthentic fircy the original, and prototype, or the source of 
 
 earthly firfi, — Unwiser is not a comparative here, but means verv 
 
 unwise 
 
BOOK IV. 107 
 
 In sad event, when to th' unwiser son 
 Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnared 
 Mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged 
 On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire. 
 
 Thus at their shady lodge arrived, both stood, 720 
 Both turn'd, and under open sky adored 
 The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'n, 
 Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe. 
 And starry pole : Thou also mad'st the night, 
 Maker omnipotent, and thou the day, 725 
 
 Which we in our appointed work employ 'd 
 Have finish'd, happy in our mutual help 
 And mutual love, the rrown of all our bliss 
 Ordain'd by thee ; and this delicious place 
 For us too large, where thy abundance wants 730 
 Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. 
 But thou hast promised 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. 735 
 
 This said unanimous, and other rites 
 Observing none, but adoration pure 
 Which God likes best, into their inmost bower 
 Handed they went ; and eased the putting off 
 These troublesome disguises which we wear, 740 
 Straight side by side were laid ; nor tuni'd I ween 
 Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites 
 Mysterious of connubial love refused : 
 Whatever hypocrites austerely talk 
 Of purity, and place, and innocence, 745 
 
 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 750 
 Of human offspring, sole propriety 
 In Paradise of all things common else. 
 By thee adult'rous lust was driven from men. 
 Among the bestial herds to range ; by thee, 
 Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 755 
 
 746. In allusion to 1 Tim. iv. 1, 2, 3. 
 750. Tliis apostroplie is said to be borrowrd from onsoi" Tasuo* 
 letters. Mysterious: See Eph. v. 32. 
 
103 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Relations dear, and all the charities 
 Of father, son, and brother, first were known. 
 Far be 't, that I should write thee sin or blame, 
 Or think thee unbefitting holiest place, 
 Pei'petual fountain of domestic sweets, 760 
 
 Whose bed is undefiled and chaste pronounced, 
 ^Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used. 
 Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
 His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings. 
 Reigns here and revels ; not in the bought smile 7 65 
 Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd. 
 Casual fruition ; nor in court-amours, 
 Mix'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball. 
 Or serenate, v/hich the starved lover sings 
 To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. 770 
 
 These, lull'd by nightingales, embracing, slept, 
 And on their naked limbs the flow'ry roof 
 Shower 'd roses, which the morn repair'd. Sleep on, 
 Blest pair ! and O yet happiest, if ye seek 
 No happier state, and know to know no more. 775 
 
 Now had Night measured v.'ith 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, 780 
 
 When Gabriel to his next in power 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. 785 
 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 thro' this garden; leave unsearch'd no nook; 
 But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge. 
 Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm. 791 
 
 This evening from the Sun's decline arrived 
 
 756. The charities ; the affections called forth by the difierent 
 relations of life. 761. Heb. xiii. ^. 
 
 769. Serenate : Milton follows th€ Italian in his spelliiig^. 
 
 Starved ; cold, unaccepted. 
 
 782. Uzziel, the strength of God. 
 
 784. St?e Heb. chap. i. 
 
 78S. lihuriely the uiscoverv of God. ZejjhoVy a secret, 
 
 or searcher of secrets. 
 
BOOK IV. 109 
 
 Who tells of some infernal Spirit seen 
 Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escaped 
 The bars of Hell, on errand bad no doubt : 705 
 
 Such where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring". 
 
 So saying-, on he led his radiant files. 
 Dazzling the moon ; these to the bower direct, 
 In search of whom they sought : him there they found, 
 Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, 800 
 
 A.ssaying by his devilish art to reach 
 The organs of her fancy', and with them forge 
 illusions as he list, phantasms and dreams ; 
 Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint 
 Vh' animal spirits that from pm-e blood arise, 805 
 Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise 
 At least distemper'd, discontented thoughts, 
 V^ain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires, 
 Blown up with high conceits, ingendering pride. 
 Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear 810 
 
 Fouch'd lightly ; for no falsehood can endure 
 Touch of celestial temper, but returns 
 Of force to its own likeness. Up he starts. 
 Discovered and surprised. As when a spark 
 Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid 815 
 
 Fit for the tun some magazine to store 
 zigainst a rumour'd war, the smutty grain 
 With sudden blaze diffused, inflames the air ; 
 So started up in his own shape the Fiend. 
 Back stept those two fair Angels, half amazed 820 
 So sudden to behold the grisly king ; 
 Yet thus, unmoved with fear, accost him soon : 
 
 Wbich of those rebel Spirits, adjudged to Hell, 
 Com'st thou, escaped thy prison 1 and transform'd, 
 Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait, 825 
 
 Here watching &t 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 >7hcre ye du-st not soar. 
 Not to know me. arg-^Jie^ yourselves unknown, 830 
 The lowest of your vhrcxig ; cr if yc K.riow, 
 Why ask ye, and superfiu^ou? bs?gi,T 
 
 796. Hither f that is, wherever tha* syflaKsr k..»a;i/« afterwarda be. 
 
 804. Virgil, Mne^}, \>. » 1. 
 
 814. Ariosto employs the sawie b^niiae. 
 
no PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Your message, like to end as much in vain ? 
 
 To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn . 
 Think not, revolted Spirit, thy shape the same, 835 
 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. 840 
 
 But come ; for thou, be sure, shalt give account 
 To him AVho 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 845 
 
 Invincible. Abash'd the Devil stood. 
 And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
 Virtue* in her shape how lovely ; saw and pined 
 His loss ; but chiefly to find here observed 
 His lustre visibly impair'd ; yet seem'd 850 
 
 Undaunted. If I must contend, said he, 
 Best with the best, the sender not the sent^ 
 Or all at once ; more glory will be won, 
 Or less be lost. Thy fear, said Zephon bold, 
 Will save us trial what the least can do 855 
 
 Single against thee wicked, and thence weak. 
 
 The Fiend reply'd not, overcome with rage ; 
 But like a pioud steed rein'd, went haughty on, 
 Champing his iron curb. To strive or fiy 
 He held it vain ; awe from above had quell'd SCO 
 His heart, not else dismayed. Now drew they nigh 
 The western point, where those half-rounding guards 
 Just met, and closing stood in squadron joind, 
 Awaiting next command. To whom their chief, 
 Gabriel from the front, thus call'd aloud: 805 
 
 O friends, 1 hear the tread of nimble feet 
 Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern 
 Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade, 
 A.nd with them comes a third of regal port, 
 But faded splendour wan ; who, by his gait 870 
 
 And fierce demeanour, seems the prince of Hell, 
 
 835. Bentley proposes a new readine, ' Or brig-htness undimj- 
 DishM' in the next line : Newton to change thy into by in the 
 present. 
 
 866. It is observed, that Milton has followed Homer i;i this 
 episode. See 11. x. 533. 
 
BuoK IV. in 
 
 Not likely to part hence v/ithout contest : 
 Stand firm, for in his look defiance LOurs. 
 
 He scarce had ended, when those two approach 'd, 
 And brief related whom they brought, where found, 
 How busy' J, in what form and posture couch'd. 876 
 
 To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake : 
 Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed 
 To thy transgressions, and disturb'd the charge 
 Of others, who approve not to transgress 880 
 
 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 v/ith contemptuous brow : 885 
 Gabriel, 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 would'st thyself, no 
 doubt, 890 
 
 Vnd boldly venture to whatever place 
 Farthest from pain,where thoumight'sthope to change 
 Torment with ease, and soonest recompense 
 
 Dole with delight, which in this place I sought ; 
 To thee no reason, who knowest only good, 895 
 
 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, they found me where they say; 900 
 
 But that implies not violence or harm. 
 
 Thus he in scorn. The warlike Angel moved 
 
 Disdainfully, half smiling, thus reply d : 
 O loss of one in Heav'n to judge of wise, 
 
 Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew, 905 
 
 And now returns him from his prison 'scaped. 
 
 Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise 
 
 Or not, who ask what boldness brought him liither, 
 
 Unlicensed from his bounds in Hell prescribed ; 
 
 So wise he jxidges it to fly from pain 910 
 
 878. Bentley thinks transgressions should be taken in the een&ft 
 of trcinscursions, that is, to pass over bounds. . 
 
 893, Torment with ease, a Latin idioDo.. 
 
 15. 
 
112 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 However, and to 'scape his punishmeixt. 
 
 So judg-e thou still, pi-esumptuous, till the wrath, 
 
 Which thou incurr st by flying, meet thy flight 
 
 Sev'nfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell 
 
 AVhich taught thee yet no better, that no pain 915 
 
 Can equal anger inflnite provoked. 
 
 But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with thee 
 
 Came not all Hell "croke loose 1 Is pain to them 
 
 Less pain, less to be fled 1 or thou than they 
 
 Less hardy to endure? Courageous Chief, 920 
 
 The first in flight from pain, hadst thou alleged 
 
 To thy deserted host this cause of flight. 
 
 Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive. 
 
 To which the Fiend thus answer d, frowning stem : 
 Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain, 925 
 
 Insulting Angel : well thou know'st I stood 
 Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid 
 The blasting ^'olley'd thunder made all speed, 
 And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. 
 But still thy words at random, as before, 930 
 
 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 935 
 
 To wing the desolate abyss, and spy 
 This new-created w^orld, whereof in Hell 
 Fame is not silent, here in hope to find 
 Better abode, and my afflicted Pow'rs 
 To settle here on earth, or in mid-air; 940 
 
 Though for possession put to try once more 
 What thou and thy gay legi'^ ..s dare against; 
 Whose easier bus'ness were to serve their Lord 
 High up in Heavn, with songs to hymn his throne, 
 And practised distances to cringe, not fight. 945 
 
 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 traced, 
 Satan, and couldst thou faithful add? O name, 950 
 
 927. Thy fiercest ; the adjective as a substantive, as in instance* 
 
 already alleged. 
 
 92a. Thy is read in the second edition. 
 
BOOK IV. 113 
 
 O sacred name of faithfulness profaned ! 
 
 Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew? 
 
 Army of Fiends, fit body to fit head. 
 
 Was this your discipline and faith engaged, 
 
 Your military' obedience, to dissolve 95f, 
 
 Allegiance to th' acknowledged Pow'r Supreme? 
 
 And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem 
 
 Patron of liberty, who more than thou 
 
 Once fawn'd, and cringed, and servilely adored 
 
 Heav'n's awful Monarch ? wherefore but in hope 960 
 
 To dispossess him, and thyself to reign? 
 
 But mark what 1 arreed 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, 965 
 
 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, but, waxing more in rage, reply'd : 
 
 Then when I am thy captive, talk of chains, 970 
 Proud limitary Cherub ; but ere then 
 Far heavier load thyself expect to feel 
 From my prevailing arm, though Heav'n's King 
 Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers. 
 Used to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels 975 
 In progress through the road of Heav'n star-paved. 
 
 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 980 
 
 Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends 
 Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind 
 Sways them ; the careful plowman doubting stands. 
 Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves 
 Prove chaff. On th' other side Satan, alarm'd, 985 
 Collecting all his might, dilated stood. 
 Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved: 
 
 962. Arreed, to decree or award. 
 
 965. Drag ; the present for the future. 966. Rev. xx. 3. 
 
 971. Limi/ary, setting- bounds to. Ps. xviii. 10 
 
 974. Ezek. chap. i. x. and xi. 
 
 980. Ported, borne pointed towards him. 
 
 986. Tasso applies t4ie epithet disteso to his hero Argantes when 
 
 preparing- to fi;?ht with Tancred. 
 
Ill PARADlSi:: LOST. 
 
 His stature reached the sky, and on his crest 
 Sat horror plumed ; nor wanted in his grasp [deeds 
 What seem'd both spear and shield. Now dreadful 
 Might have ensued, nor only Paradise 991 
 
 In this commotion, but the starry cope 
 Of Heav'n perhaps, or all the elements 
 At least had gone to wrack, disturbed and torn 
 With violence of this conflict, had not soon 995 
 
 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 rotmd earth with balanced air 1000 
 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 : 1005 
 Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine ; 
 Neither our own, but giv'n. What folly then 
 To boast Avhat arms can do 1 since thine no more 
 Than Heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubled now 
 To trample thee as mire : for proof look up, 1010 
 And read thy lot in yon celestial sign, [weak, 
 
 Where thou art weigh'd, and shewn how light, how 
 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. 
 
 989. A powerful personification of horror. 
 
 1002. The same alleg-or\ is employed by both Homer and Virg'ii, 
 and in Scripture we find Daniel informing' Belshazzar that he was 
 weighed in the balances: for illustrations of this ]tassage, see Job 
 xxviii. xxxvii. Isa. xl. 1. Sam. ii. 3. Proverbs xvi. 2. and Dan. v. 
 
 1003. Bentley proposes to read signal instead ot sequel, bnt the 
 latter is preferable, see Horn. Ii. viii. 69. also Virgil, ^.n. xii. 725. 
 
 1012. Milton follows Scripture and not the poets in making 
 the scale ascend in token of victory. 
 
BOOK \. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Morning approachefl, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome 
 iroam ; he likes it not, yet comforts her : They come forth to 
 Iheir day labours: Their morning- hymn at the door of tlieir 
 bower. God, to render man inexcusable, sends Raphael to ad- 
 monish 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. Ra[>hael comes down to Paradise, iiis 
 appearance described, his coniing discerned by Adam afar oi), 
 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 Para- 
 dise got together by Eve ; their discourse at tible : Raphael {)er- 
 forms 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 oc- 
 casion thereof; how 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 
 opposes him, then forsakes him. 
 
 Now morn her rosy steps in tli' eastern clime 
 
 Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, 
 
 When Adam -waked, so custom'd, for his sleep 
 
 Was aery light from pure dig-estion bred. 
 
 And temp'rate vapours bland, Avhich th' only soiuid 5 
 
 Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, 
 
 Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 
 
 Of birds on ev'ry bough ; so much the more 
 
 His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve 
 
 With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, 10 
 
 As through v-nquiet rest ; he on his side 
 
 Leaning, half raised, with looks of cordial love 
 
 Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld 
 
 Beauty, v/hich whether waking or asleep, 
 
 Shot forth peculiar graces ; then with voice 15 
 
 Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes. 
 
 Her hand soft touching, whisper 'd thus : Awake, 
 
 My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, 
 
 Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight, 
 
 Awake ; thie morning shines, and the fi-esh field 20 
 
 1. This IS a lovely description of morning, and the more beau- 
 tiful because not separated from the consideration of the actors 
 in the poem.— 1 think it will be generally found that poets ot 
 great eminence seldom indulge themselves in pure description, 
 or rather, that their descripiions are almost always mixed up with 
 circumstance and detail, 
 
 $. Which refers to deep% not to vapours* 
 
1]6 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Calls us ? we lose the prime, to mark how spring" 
 Our tender 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. 25 
 
 Such whisp'ring waked her, but with startled eye 
 On Adam, whom embracing-, thus she spake : 
 
 O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, 
 My glory, my perfection, glad I see 
 Thy face, and morn return'd ; for I this night 30 
 (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, 
 J5ut of offence and trouble, which my mind 
 Knew never till this irksome night. Methought, 35 
 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 40 
 
 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 v/ith all his eyes, 
 Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire? 45 
 
 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 50 ^ 
 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 54 
 
 24. I am inclined to think that this mention of nature is the 
 only blemish in the passag-e : none of Adam's curious qnestionir.g-s 
 which have been reprobated by writers, were unnatural in a being- 
 continually contemplating: the universe with an undi iimed eye ; 
 but it is very inconsistent to suppose he would personify the prin- 
 ciple of thihg-s, and separate its operation from the immsdiate 
 action of the divine hand.— Nature was a noble and splendid con- 
 ception in the mind of the heathen poets and philosopners, but 
 it i:, a puerile contradiction after the thoughts have been long 
 fixed on a personal Deitv. 
 
 41. His and her are applied by Milton to the nightingule 
 indifferently. 
 
BOOK V. 117 
 
 One shaped and wingM, like one of those fromHeav'n 
 
 By us oft seen. His dewy locks distill d 
 
 Ambrosia : on that tree he also gazed ; 
 
 And O fair plant, said he, with fruit surcharged. 
 
 Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet 
 
 Nor God, nor Man? is knowledge so despised? CO 
 
 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 paused not, but with vent'rous arm 
 
 He pluck'd, he tasted! Me damp horror chill'd 65 
 
 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 lit 
 
 For Gods, yet able to make Gods of Men : 70 
 
 And why not Gods of Men, since good, the moi'e 
 
 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, 75 
 
 Happier thou may'st be, worthier canst not be : 
 
 Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods 
 
 Thyself a Goddess, not to earth confined. 
 
 But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes 
 
 Ascend to Heav'n, by merit thine, and see 80 
 
 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 sav'ry smell 
 
 So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought, 85 
 
 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 90 
 
 My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk, down, 
 
 And fell asleep ; but O how glad 1 waked 
 
 To find this but a dream ! Thus Eve her night 
 
 Related ; and thus Adam answer'd sad : 
 
 Best image of myself and dearer half, 95 
 
 The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep 
 Aflects me equally ; nor can I like 
 
118 PARADISK LOST. 
 
 This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear ; 
 
 Yet evil vi^hence 1 In thee can harbour none, 
 
 Created pure. But know, that in the soul 100 
 
 Are many lesser faculties, that serve 
 
 Reason as chief: among these Fancy next 
 
 Her office holds. Of all external things 
 
 Which the five watchful senses represent, 
 
 She forms imaginations, aery shapes ; 105 
 
 Which Reason joining or disjoinijig, 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 IIO 
 
 To imitate her ; but mi.sjoining 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, 115 
 
 But with addition strange ; yet be not sad. 
 
 Evil into 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 120 
 
 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 125 
 
 Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers 
 
 That open now their choicest bosom'd smells, 
 
 Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store. 
 
 So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd ; 
 Eut silently a gentle tear let fall 130 
 
 From either eye, and wiped 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 remorse 
 And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. 135 
 
 So all was clear'd, and to the field they haste. 
 But first, from under shady arborous roof 
 Soon as they forth were come to open sight 
 
 117. God in this line means angel; the word is so applied in 
 Scripture sometintee: see also John x. 36. and refer to line 60. 
 
BOOK V, 119 
 
 Of day-spring, and tlie Sun, whc scarce up risen. 
 
 With whieels yet hov'ring- o'er the ocean brim, 140 
 
 Shot parallel to th' earth his dewy ray. 
 
 Discovering- in wide landskip all the east 
 
 Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains, 
 
 Lowly they bow'd, adoring, and began 
 
 Their orisons, each morning duly paid 145 
 
 In various style ; for neither various style 
 
 Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 
 
 Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced or sung 
 
 Unmeditated ; such prompt eloquence 
 
 Flow'd from their lips, in prose or num'rous verse. 
 
 More tuneable than needed lute or harp 151 
 
 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 I 
 Unspeakable, who sit'st above these Heav'ns 156 
 
 To 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, 160 
 
 Angels ; for ye behold Him, and with songs 
 And choral symphonies, day without night. 
 Circle his throne rejoicing ! ye in Heav'n, 
 On Earth join all ye Creatures to extol 
 Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. 165 
 Fairest of stars, last in the train of night. 
 If better thou belong not to the dawn, 
 Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn 
 With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, 
 While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. 170 
 
 Thou Sun, of this great w^orld 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 meets the orient Sun, now fly'st, 175 
 With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies, 
 
 133. This prayer is a close imitation of the 148th Psalm : see 
 also the Canticle in our Liturary taken from it. 
 155. Wisd. xiii. 345. 
 
 162, Day without nvghi, without such night as ours: as the 
 Author afterward explains it, Book vi. 8. 
 
 172, Bentley proposes to read * him Creator,' for * thy greater.' 
 
\20 PAilADiSE LOST. 
 
 And ye five other wand'riag fires that move 
 
 [n mystic dance not without song, i-esound 
 
 His praise, who out of darkncis call'd up light. 
 
 Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth ISO 
 
 Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run 
 
 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 185 
 
 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 show'rs, 190 
 
 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, 195 
 
 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 200 
 
 The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep, 
 
 Witness if I be silent, morn or ev'n. 
 
 To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade. 
 
 Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. 
 
 Hail Universal Lord, be bounteous still 205 
 
 To give us only good ; and if the night 
 
 Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd. 
 
 Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. 
 
 So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts 
 
 197. Soul is here used as in Scripture, frequently to signify any 
 living thina:. 
 
 202. The commentators have exercised their injrenuity to ex- 
 plain why Milton used the sing-ular /in this line when it would 
 eeem that both Adam and Eve were expressing' themselves in the 
 hymn. Bentley reads we, which if rig^ht, would do away with 
 the difficulty at once. Others, among which are Newton and 
 Dr. Pearce, think the prayer was intended to be interlocutory, 
 which would also explain it, but I imagine that from Milton's 
 known opinion on the subject of femaJe modesty and subjecti'^n, 
 it is easy to suppose he never intended to represent Evt; as au 
 dibly accompanyins the devotions of her husband. This idea ma' 
 be strengthened by i eferring to 1 Cor. xiv. 34. and 1 Tiiu. ii. J i. 
 
BOOK V, 121 
 
 Firm peace recover *d soon, and wonted calm. 210 
 
 On to their morning's rural work they haste, 
 
 Among sweet dews and fiow'rs ; where any row 
 
 Of fruit trees over-wood^' reach'd too far 
 
 Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to check 
 
 Fruitless embraces; or they led the vine 215 
 
 To wed her elm ; she spoiised about him twines 
 
 Her marriageable arms, and with her bring-s 
 
 Her dow'r th' adopted clusters, to adorn 
 
 His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld 
 
 With pity Heav'n's high King, and to him call'd 220 
 
 Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deign'd 
 
 To travel with Tobias, and secured 
 
 His marriage with the sev'ntimes-wedded maid. 
 
 Raphael, said he, thou hear'st what stir on Earth 
 Satan from Hell, 'scaped thro' the dai-ksome gulf, 225 
 Hath raised in Paradise, and how disturb'd 
 This night the human pair, how he designs 
 In them at once to ruin all mankind. 
 Go, therefore, half this day as friend with friend 
 Converse with Adam, in what bow'r or shade 230 
 Thou find'st him from the heat of noon retired, 
 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, 235 
 
 Left to his own free will, his will though free, 
 Yet mutable ; whence warn him to beware 
 He svrerv^e not too secure. Tell him withal 
 His danger, and from whom ; what enemy. 
 Late fall'n himself from Heav'n, is plotting now 240 
 The fall of others from like state 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, unforewam'd. 245 
 
 So spake th' Eternal Father, and fulfill'd 
 All justice: nor delay'd the winged Saint 
 
 214. Pampered, from pampre, overgrown with leaves. 
 
 224. See Tasso, Lib. Can. ix. st. 58, wiiich Milton seems 
 
 here lo have had In view. 
 
 245. See also Tasso. Can. ix. en. The description of the de- 
 
 i-rt lidiiig- ang-ei is splei did in both poets, and they may be pro- 
 
 f,t,iH-, coni{iared. 
 
 G 
 
122 FaRADISE lost. 
 
 After his charge received ; but from among 
 
 Thousand celestial Ardors, where he stood 
 
 Veil'd with his gorg*eous wings, up springing light 250 
 
 Flew through the midst of Heav'n ; th' angelic choirs, 
 
 On each hand parting, to his speed gave way 
 
 Through all th' empyreal road ; till at the gate 
 
 Of Heav'n arrived, the gate self-open'd wide 
 
 On golden hinges turning, as by work 255 
 
 Divine the Sov'reign Architect had framed. 
 
 From hence no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, 
 
 Star interposed, however small, he sees. 
 
 Not unconform to other shining globes. 
 
 Earth and the gard'n of God, with cedars crown'd 
 
 Above all hills. As when by night the glass 261 
 
 Of Galileo, less assured, observes 
 
 Imagined lands and regions in the moon : 
 
 Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades 
 
 Delos or Samos first appearing, kens 265 
 
 A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight 
 
 He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky 
 
 Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing 
 
 Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan 
 
 Winnows the buxom air : till within soar 270 
 
 Of tow'ring eagles, to all the fowls he seems 
 
 A Phoenix, gazed by all, as that sole bird, 
 
 When to inshrine his reliques in the Sun's 
 
 Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies. 
 
 At once on th' eastern clifF of Paradise 275 
 
 He lights, and to his proper shape returns, 
 
 A seraph wing'd; six wings he wore, to shade 
 
 249. Ardors, Seraphim, which has the same meaning' in He- 
 brew. 
 
 254. So Homer makes the gates of Heaven open to the gods, 
 II. V. 749. 
 
 258. The word being must be understood after slur. 
 
 262. Galileo first used the telescope in astronomical observations. 
 The Cyclades, of whieh Delos and Samos are two, are islands in 
 the Archipelago. 
 
 272. The Phcenix has the epithet sole applied to it, because it i3 
 said that but one exists at a time. It is described as very beautiful, 
 and living several hundred years, at the end of which time it 
 burns itself on a pile prepared of aromatic wood ; from its ashes 
 springs its solitary successor, which immediately flies with the 
 remains of its predecessor to Thebes, in Egypt, where it reposits 
 them in the temple of the Sun. 
 
 876. His proper shape, that in which lie seemed to have been 
 before. 
 
BOOK V. 123 
 
 His lineaments divine ; the pair that clad 
 
 Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast 
 
 With regal ornament ; the middle pair 280 
 
 Girt lik.e a starry zone his waist, and rotmd 
 
 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-tinctured g-rain. Like Maia's son he stood, 28S 
 
 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 glitt'ring tents he pass'd, andnow is come 291 
 
 Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh 
 
 And iiow'ring odours, cassia, nard, and balm : 
 
 A wilderness of sweets ; for ^ ature here 
 
 Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will 205 
 
 Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, 
 
 Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss. 
 
 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 300 
 
 Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm 
 
 Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam needs : 
 
 And Eve within, due at her hour prepared 
 
 For dinner sav'ry fruits, of taste to please 
 
 True appetite, and not disrelish thirst 305 
 
 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 310 
 Risen 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 
 
 234. A beautiful comparison — feathers lie over one another like 
 ihe plaits of a coat of mail. 
 
 285. Maia's son. Mercury: see Iliad xxiv. 339. iEn.iv. 238. 
 
 299. Gen. xviii. 1 where Abraham is described sitting in thi 
 door of the tent. 
 
 310. Nothing can be conceived more splendid than the idea con- 
 veyed in the shor* description of Raphael's glory. In Marino'a 
 Adonis there if a similar one, C. ii. et. 27. 
 
124 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Abundance, fit to honour and receive 31$ 
 
 Our heav'nly stranger : well we may afford 
 Our givers their own gifts, and larg-e bestow 
 From large bestow'd, where Nature multiplies 
 Her fertile growth, and by disburd'ning grov/s 
 More fruitful ; which instructs us not to spare. 32C 
 
 To whom thus Eve : Adam, earth's hallow'd mould. 
 Of God inspired, 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 : 325 
 But I will haste, and from each bow and brake. 
 Each plant and juciest gourd, will pluck such choice 
 To entertain our Angel guest, as he 
 Beholding shall confess, that here on Earth 
 God hath dispensed his bounties as in Heav'n. 330 
 
 So saying, v/ith dispatchful looks in haste 
 She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent 
 What choice to choose for delicacy best, 
 What order, so contrived as not to mix 
 Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring 335 
 
 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 340 
 
 Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kinds, in coat 
 Rough or smooth rined, or bearded husk, or shell. 
 She gathers, tribute large, and on the board 
 Heaps with unsparing hand. For drink, tiie grape 
 She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths 345 • 
 
 From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press'd 
 She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold 
 Wants her fit vessels pure, then strews the ground 
 With rose and odours from the shrub unfumed. 
 
 Mean while our primitive great sire, to meet 350 
 His god-like guest, walks forth, without more train 
 
 333. Choice to choose : an alliteration not uncommon to Milton 
 or the classics. 
 
 340. In Pontus, part of Asia; the Punic coast, Africa; the 
 kir.g-dom of Alcinous, Phcbacia, an island in the Ionian Sea, near 
 Corfu. 
 
 345. Meaths, sweet drinks. 
 
BOOK V. 125 
 
 Accompany' 'd than with his own complete 
 
 Perfections : in himself was all his state. 
 
 More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits 
 
 On princes, when their rich retinue long 355 
 
 Of horses led, and grooms besmear'd with gold. 
 
 Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. 
 
 Nearer his presence Adam, though not awed. 
 
 Yet with submiss approach and rev'rence meek. 
 
 As to' a superior nature, bowing low, 3G0 
 
 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 a while 
 
 To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us 365 
 
 Two only, who yet by sov'reign gift possess 
 
 This spacious ground, in yonder shady bow'r 
 
 To rest, and what the garden choicest bears 
 
 To sit and taste, till this meridian heat 
 
 Be over, and the Sun more cool decline. 370 
 
 Whom thus th' angelic virtue answer'd mild : 
 Adam, I therefore came ; nor art thou such 
 Created, or such place hast here to dwell. 
 As may not oft invite, though Spirits of Heav'n, 
 To visit thee. Lead on then where thy bow'r 375 
 O'ershades ; for these mid hours, till ev'ning rise, 
 I have at will. So to the sylvan lodge 
 They came, that like Pomona's arbour smiled 
 With flow'rets deck'd and fragrant smells ; but Eve 
 Undeck'd save with herself, more lovely fair 380 
 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 385 
 Bestow'd ; the holy salutation used 
 Long after to blest Mary, second Eve. 
 
 Hail Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful womb 
 Shall fill the world more num'rous with thy sons, 
 Than with these various fruits the trees of God 390 
 
 352. Wilh should be expu-nged according- to Bentley, as it is 
 superfluous. 378. Pomona, the goddess of fruit-trees. 
 
 382. In allusion to the judgment of Paris bf tween Venus, Juno, 
 aiid Minerva. 
 
 387. Luke i. 2. 8. 
 
126 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Have heap'd this table. Raised of grasay turf 
 Their table was, and mossy seats had round. 
 And on her ample square, Irom side to side. 
 All autumn piled, tho' spring- and autumn here 
 Danced hand in hand. A while discourse they hold ; 
 No fear lest dinner cool ; when thus began 396 
 
 Our author : Heav'nly stranger, please to taste 
 These bounties which our Nourisher, from whom 
 All perfect good, unmeasured out, descends, 
 To us for food, and for delight hath caused 400 
 
 The earth to yield; unsav'ry 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 405 
 
 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 ev'ry lower faculty 410 
 
 Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste. 
 Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate. 
 And corporeal to incorporeal turn. 
 For know, whatever was created, needs 
 To be sustain'd and fed : pf elements 415 
 
 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, unpurged 
 Vapours not yet into lier substance turn'd. 42(S 
 
 Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhale 
 From her moist continent to higher orbs. 
 The Sun, that light imparts to all, receives 
 Prom all his alimental recompense 
 In humid exhalations, and at even 425 
 
 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 4;JC 
 
 421. A Latinism. 
 428. See Pe. ov. 40. Exodus xvi. )4. Matt. xxiv. 29. and Rev. 
 vxii. 2* 
 
BOOK Y. 127 
 
 Vary'd his bounty so with new delights, 
 As may compare with Heaven ; and to taste 
 Think not I shall he nice. So down they sat, 
 And to their viands fell ; nor seemingly 
 The Ang'el, nor in mist, the common gloss 435 
 
 Of Theologians ; but with keen d/spatch 
 Of real hunger and concoctive heat 
 To transubstantiate : what redounds, transpires 
 Through Spirits with ease : nor wonder, if by fire 
 Of sooty coal th' empyric alchemist 440 
 
 Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, 
 Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold. 
 As from the mine. Mean while at table Eve 
 Minister'd naked, and their flowing cups 
 With pleasant liquors crown'd. O innocence 445 
 Deserving Paradise ! if ever, then. 
 Then had the sons of God excuse to' have been 
 Enamour'd at thy sight ; but in those hearts 
 *Love unlibidinous rcign'd, nor jealousy 
 Was understood, the injured lover's Hell. 450 
 
 Thus, when with meats and drinks they had sufficed, 
 Not burden'd nature, sudden mind arose 
 In Adam, not to let th' occasion pass 
 Giv'n him by this great conference, to know 
 Of things above his world, and of their being 455 
 Who dwell in Heav'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 framed : 46© 
 
 Inhabitant with God, now know I well 
 Thy favour in this honour done to Man, 
 Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsafed 
 To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste. 
 Food not of Angels, yet accepted so, 46S 
 
 As that more willingly thou couldst not seem 
 
 435. It was the opinion of most theologians that the angels did 
 not eat, their opinion beinii- founded on some metaphysical no- 
 tions, and on a passage in Tobit iii. 19. But Milton seems to be 
 justified by the canonical Scripture. See Gen. xviii. and xix. 
 
 438 This is a fine distinction between the processes of diges- 
 tion »n men and ungels. 
 
 440. Empyric, making many experiments. 
 
 445. To crown the cup, is a classical exrressioa. 
 
 447. Gen. vi. 2. 
 
128 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 At Heav'n's high feasts to' have fed : yet what com- 
 To whom the winged Hierarch reply 'd : [paret 
 O Adam, one Almighty is, from whom 
 All things proceed, and up to him return, 470 
 
 If not depraved from good, created all 
 Such to perfection, one first matter all, 
 Endued with various forms, various degrees 
 Of substance, and in things that life, of life : 
 But more refined, more spirituous, and pure, 475 
 
 As nearer to him placed, or nearer tending 
 Each in their sev'ral active spheres assign'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 aery, last the bright consummate fiow'r 481 
 Spirits odoro as breathes: flow'rs and their fruit, 
 Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublimed. 
 To vital spirits aspire, to animal. 
 To intellectual : give both life and sense, 485 
 
 Fancy and understanding ; whence the soul 
 Reason receives, and reason is her being 
 Discursive or intuitive : discourse 
 Is oftest yours ; the latter most is ours, 
 DifF'ring but in degi-ee ; of kind the same. 400 
 
 Wonder not then, what God for you saw good, 
 If 1 refuse not, but convert, as you, 
 To proper substance: time may come, when Men 
 With Angels may participate, and find 
 No incoiiveiiient diet, nor too light fare ; 495 
 
 And from these corp'ral nutriments, perhaps 
 Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit. 
 Improved by tract of time, and wing'd ascend 
 Ethereal, as we, or may at choice 
 Here or in heav'nly Paradises dwell ; 500 
 
 If ye be found obedient, and retain 
 Unalterably firm his love entire, 
 Whose progeny you are. Mean while enjoy 
 Your fill what happiness this happy state 
 
 478. The reader may very profitably consult a volume of ser- 
 mons lately published by Dr. A. Clarke, in which he will find 
 some excellent observations on Milton's materialism. I am in- 
 clined, however, to believe that the ymet meant to convey no 
 other idea than that derived from 1 Cor. w. 44. 
 503. Acts xvii. -28. 
 
BOOK V. 129 
 
 Can comprehend, incapable of more. 505 
 
 To whom the patriarch of mankind reply'd : 
 O favourable Spirit, propitious guest, 
 Well hfist thou taught the way that might direct 
 Our knowledge, and the scale of nature set 
 From centre to circumference, whereon 510 
 
 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 1 Can we want obedience then 
 To him, or possibly his love desert, 515 
 
 Who form'd us from the dust, and placed us here 
 Full to the utmost measure of what bliss 
 Human desire can seek or apprehend 1 
 
 To whom the Angel : Son of Heav'n and Earth, 
 Attend. That thou art happy, owe to God ; 520 
 
 That thou continuest such, owe to thyself; 
 That is, to thy obedience : therein stand. 
 This was that caution giv'n thee ; be advised. 
 God made thee perfect, not immutable ; 
 And good he made thee ; but to persevere 525 
 
 He left it in thy pow'r ; ordain'd thy will 
 By nature free, not over-ruled by fate 
 Inextricable, or strict necessity. 
 Our voluntary service he requires. 
 Not our necessitated : such with him 530 
 
 Finds no acceptance, nor can find; for how 
 Can hearts, not free, be try'd whether they se "ve 
 Willing or no, who will but what they must 
 By destiny, and can no other choose ? 
 Myself and all th' angelic host, that stand 535 
 
 In sight of God enthroned, 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 : 540 
 
 And some are fall'n, to disobedience fall'n, 
 
 512. Every part of the vast system of the universe, is not only 
 coftnected with the rest by a kind of natural necessity, but the 
 connexion is apparent to the contemplative eye of reason, and 
 hence having become acquainted with the lowest circumstance 
 in it, the mind is carried gradually ar^d easily on till it looks 
 down from the highest point on the whole grand creation of the 
 Almighty God. 
 
 G 2 
 
130 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And so from Heav'n to deepest Hell. O fallj 
 From what high state of t>liss into what woe ! 
 
 To whom our great progenitor : Thy words 
 Attentive, and with more delighted ear, 545 
 
 Divine Instructor, I have heai'd, than when 
 Cherubic songs by night from neighb'ring hills 
 Aereal music send : nor knew I not 
 To he both will and deed created free ; 
 Yet that we never shall forget to love 550 
 
 Our Maker, and obey him whose command 
 Single is yet so just, my constant thoughts 
 Assured me', and still assure : tho' what thou tell'st 
 Hath pass'd in Heav'n, some doubt within me move, 
 }5ut more desire to hear, if thou consent, 555 
 
 The full relation, which must needs be strange, 
 Worthy of sacred silence to be heai'd ; 
 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. 560 
 
 Thus Adam made request : and Raphael, 
 After short pause, assenting, thus began : 
 
 High matter thou enjoin'st me', prime of men, 
 Sad task and hard ; for how shall I relate 
 To human sense th' invisible exploits 565 
 
 Of warring Spirits 1 How without remorse 
 The ruin of so many, glorious once 
 And perfect while they stood ? How last unfold 
 The secrets of another world, pei-haps 
 Not lawful to reveal? yet for thy pood 570 
 
 This is dispensed ; and what surmoimts the reach 
 Of human sense, I shall delineate so. 
 By lik'ning spiritual to corp'ral forms. 
 As may express them best : though what if Earth 
 Be but the shadow' of Heav'n, and things therein 575 
 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 poised ; when on a day 
 'For time, though in eternity, apply 'd 580 
 
 To motion, measures all things durable 
 
 551. In allusion to the command not to eat of the tree of know- 
 [edge. 
 
BOOK V 131 
 
 By present, past, and futury; on such day 
 
 As Heav'n's great year brings forth, th' empyreal host 
 
 Of angels by imperial summons call'd. 
 
 Innumerable before th' Almig-hty's throne 585 
 
 Forthwith from all the ends of Heav'n appear'd 
 
 Under their Hierarchs in order brig:ht : 
 
 Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanced. 
 
 Standards and g-onfalons 'twixt van and rear 
 
 Stream in the air, and for distinction serve 590 
 
 Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees ; 
 
 Or in their glitt'ring tissues bear emblazed 
 
 Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love 
 
 Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs 
 
 Of circuit inexpressible they stood, 595 
 
 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, 600 
 
 Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Pow'rs, 
 Hear my decree, which unrevoked shall stand : 
 This day I have beg-ot whom I declare 
 My only Son ; and on this holy hill 
 Him have anointed, whom ye now b6hold 605 
 
 At my right hand ; your Head I him appoint ; 
 And by myself have sworn, to him shall bow 
 All kuees in Heav'n, and shall confess him Lord : 
 Under his great vicegerent reign abide 
 United as one individual soul, 610 
 
 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 ingulph'd, his place 
 Ordain'd without redemption, without end. 615 
 
 So spake th' Omnipotent : and with his words 
 All seem'd well pleased ; all seem'd,but were not aU. 
 That day, as other solemn days, they spent 
 
 583. Milton is believed to have had Plato's idea in this expre*?- 
 sion, the latter making the great year to be the revolution of aJ\ 
 the spheres. See also Job i. 6. 1 Kinsrs xxii. 19. 
 
 .SS9. A gonfalon, a streamer or banner. 
 
 598. Exodus xix. 
 
 600. This, as the former speech, is moj^tlv derived from S( rS'i^-^ 
 ture. See W. ii. 6,7. Gen. xxii. 16. Phil. ii. 10,11. 
 
132 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In song and dance about the sacred hill ; 
 
 Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere 620 
 
 Of planets and of iix'd, in all her wheels 
 
 Resembles nearest, mazes intricate, 
 
 Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular 
 
 Then most, when most irregular they seem ; 
 
 And in their motions harmony divine 625 
 
 So smooths her charming- tones, that God's own ear 
 
 Listens delighted. Ev'ning now approach'd 
 
 (For we have also' our ev'ning* and our morn. 
 
 We ours for change delectable, not need) 
 
 Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn 630 
 
 Desirous; all in circles as they stood. 
 
 Tables are set, and on a sudden piled 
 
 With angels' food, and rubied nectar flows 
 
 In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, 
 
 Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heav'n. 035 
 
 On flow'rs reposed, and v/ith 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-boimteous King, who show'r'd 
 
 With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. 641 
 
 Now when ambrosial night with clouds exhaled 
 
 From that high mount of God , whence light and shade 
 
 Spring both, the face of brightest Heav'n had chang'd 
 
 To grateful twilight (for night comes not there 645 
 
 In darker veil) and roseate dews disposed 
 
 All but th' unsleeping eyes of God to rest : 
 
 Wide over all the plain, and wider fdv 
 
 Than all this globous earth in plain outspread 
 
 (Such are the courts of God) th' angelic throng, 6.50 
 
 Dispersed 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 hymns about the sov'reign throne 656 
 
 625. It was the opinion of the Pythagorean philosophers, that a 
 most exquisite music was produced by the motion of the spheres, 
 come allusion to it is made in Job xxxviii. 37. 
 
 633. Rnhied nectar ; bo-rrowed from Homer. 
 
 637. And with refection sweet, in the first edition. 
 
 642, Ambrosial, an Homeric epithet. 647. I's. cxxi. 4. 
 
BOOK V. 1S3 
 
 Alternate all nig-ht long ; but not so waked 
 Satan ; so call him now, liis foinier name 
 is heard no more in Heav'n ; he of the first, 
 If not the first Arch-Ang-el, great in pow'r, 660 
 
 In favour, and pre-eminence, yet fraug-ht 
 With envy 'gainst the Son of God, that day 
 Honour'd by his great Father, and proclaim'd 
 Messiah King anointed, could not bear 
 'I'hrough pride that sight, and thought himself im- 
 
 pair'd. 6Q^ 
 
 Deep malice thence conceiving, and disdain. 
 Soon as nudnight brought on the dusky hour 
 Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolved 
 With all his legions to dislodge, and leave 
 Unworshipp'd, unobey'd the throne supreme 670 
 
 Contemptuous, and his next subordinate 
 Awak'ning, thus to him in secret spake : [close 
 
 Sleep'st thou, companion dear? What sleep can 
 Thy eye-lids I and remember'st what decree 
 Of yesterday, so late hath pass'd the lips 675 
 
 Of Heav'n's Almighty! Thou to me thy thoughts 
 Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont to' impart ; 
 Both waking we were one ; how then can now 
 Thy sleep dissent ? New laws thou seest imposed ; 
 New laws from him who reigns, new minds may raise 
 In us who serve, new counsels to debate 681 
 
 What doubtful may ensue : more in this place 
 To utter is not safe. Assemble thou 
 or all those myriads which we lead the chief; 
 Tell them that by command, ere yet dim night 685 
 Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste. 
 And all who under me their banners wave, 
 Homeward with flying march where we possess 
 rhe quarters of the north ; there to prepare 
 Fit entertainment to receive our King 69© 
 
 The great Messiah, and Ms new commands; 
 Who speedily through all the hierarchies 
 Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws. 
 
 So spake the false Arch-Angel, and infused 
 
 657. Alternate is a verb. 
 
 671. Beelzebub is liere meant, who is always represented 
 
 next in rank to Satan. 
 
 6S9. Sunnazarius, de partu Virg-inis, iii. 40. Isuiah xiv, 12, 13* 
 
 J'.^r. i. 14. vi. 1. 
 
134 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Bad influence into th' unwary breast 693 
 
 Of his associate : he together calls. 
 
 Or sev'ral one by one, the regent pow'rs, 
 
 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, 700 
 
 The great hierarchal 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 705 
 
 Of their great potentate ; for great indeed 
 
 His name, and high was his degree in Heav'n ! 
 
 His cpunt'nance, as the morning star that guides 
 
 The starry flock, allured them, and with lies 
 
 Drew after him the thirdTpart of Heav'n's host. 710 
 
 Mean while 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 715 
 
 Among the suns 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, 720 
 
 Nearly it now concerns us to be sure 
 Of our omnipotence, and with what arms 
 We mean to hold what anciently we claim 
 Of Deity or empire ; such a foe 
 
 Is rising, who intends to' erect his throne 725 
 
 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 730 
 In our defence, lest unawares we lose 
 This our high place, our sanctuary, our hill. 
 
 To whom the Son, with calm aspect and clear, 
 
 710. Rev. xii. 3, 4. 
 711. Th* Eternal Eye ; this expression must be taken as a me« 
 tonomy for God, to ^ive the proper sense to line 718. 
 
 713. Rev. iv. 5. 718. See Ps. ii. 1, &c. 
 
 719. Heb. i. 2 3. 
 
BOOK V. 135 
 
 Lightning' divine, ineffable, serene, 
 
 Made answer : Mighty Father, thou thy foes 735 
 
 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 pow'r 
 
 Giv'n nie to quell their pride, and in event 740 
 
 Know whether I be dextrous to subdue 
 
 Thy rebels, or he found the worst in Heav'n. 
 
 So spake the >Son ; but Satan with his pow'rs 
 Far was advanced on winged speed, an host 
 Innumerable as the stars of night, 745 
 
 Qi' stars of morning, dew-drops, which the Sun 
 Impearls on ev'ry leaf and ev'ry flow'r. 
 Regions they pass'd, tEe mighty regencies 
 Of Seraphim, and Potentates, and Thrones, 
 In their triple degrees ; regions to Avhich 750 
 
 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 755 
 
 They came, and Satan to his royal seat 
 High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount 
 Raised on a mount, with pyramids and tow'rs 
 From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold ; 
 The palace of great Lucifer (so call 760 
 
 That structure in the dialect of men 
 Interpreted) which not long after, he 
 Affecting all equality with God, 
 In imitation of that mount whereon 
 Messiah was declared in sight of Heav'n, 705 
 
 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 aii: 770 
 
 Of counterfeited truth, thus held their ears : 
 
 Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, 
 Pow'rs, 
 
 734. Lightning is taken for a substantive by Newtoi*, but it is 
 evidently an adjective, or we should have 'ineffable ji^^-.tning,' an 
 exprresion Milton would.uever have made use of. 
 
136 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 If these magnific titles yet remain 
 
 Not merely titular, since by decree 
 
 Another now hath to himself ingross'd 775 
 
 All pow'r, and us eclipsed 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 devised of honours new, 780 
 
 Receive him coming- to receive from us 
 
 Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile, 
 
 Too much to one, but double how endured. 
 
 To one and to his image now proclaim'd ? 
 
 But what if better counsels mig'ht erect 785 
 
 Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke 1 
 
 Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend 
 
 The supple knee 1 Ye will not, if I trust 
 
 To know ye right ; or if ye know yourselves 
 
 Natives and sous of Heav'n possess'd before 790 
 
 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 795 
 
 Jriis equals, if in pow'r and splendour less. 
 
 In freedom equal 1 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 th' abuse 800 
 
 Of those imperial titles which assert 
 
 Our being ordain'dto govern, not to serve. 
 
 Thus far his bold discourse without control 
 Had audience, when among the Seraphim 
 Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal adored 805 
 The Deity', and divine commands obey'd. 
 Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe. 
 The current of his fury thus opposed : 
 
 O argument, blasphemous, false, and proud I 
 Words which no ear ever to hear in Heav'n 810 
 
 Expected, least of all from thee, Ingrate, 
 Iivplace thyself so high above thy peers. 
 
 795. There is a difficulty in the construction of this passage; bwt 
 it is explained by takino: * for this to be our Lord,' in connexion 
 frith *can introduce law and edict,' 
 
BOOK V. U'7 
 
 Canst thoti with impious obloquy condemn 
 
 The just decree of God, pronounced and sworn, 
 
 That to his only Son, by right endued 815 
 
 With regal sceptre, ev'ry soul in Heav'n 
 
 Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due 
 
 Confess him rightful King 1 Unjust, thou say'st, 
 
 Fiatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, 
 
 And equal over equals to let reign, 820 
 
 One over all with unsucceeded pow'r. 
 
 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 pow'rs of Heav'n 
 
 Such as he pleased, and circumscribed their being? 
 
 Yet, by experience taught, we know how good, 826 
 
 A.nd 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 830 
 
 United. But to grant it thee unjust. 
 
 That equal over equals monarch reign: 
 
 Thyself, though great and glorious, dost thou count. 
 
 Or all angelic nature join'd in one. 
 
 Equal to him begotten Son? by whom 835 
 
 As by his Word the mighty Father made 
 
 All things, ev'n thee ; and all the Spirits of Heav'n 
 
 By him created in their brigh* degrees, 
 
 Crown'd them with glory', and to their glory named 
 
 Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Pow'rs, 
 
 Essential Pow'rs ; nor by his reign obscured, 841 
 
 But more illustrious made ; since he the Head 
 
 One of our number thus reduced 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 846 
 
 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 judged, 850 
 
 Or singular and rash, v/hereat rejoiced 
 Th' Apostate, and more haughty thus replied : 
 That we were form'd then, say'st thou '? and the work 
 
 835. Col, i. 16, 17. 
 
138 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of secondary hands, by task, transferr'd 854 
 
 From Father to his Son ? Stiang-e point, and new! 
 Doctrine which we would know whence learn'd : who 
 When this creation was ? Reuiember'st thou [saw 
 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-raised 8G0 
 
 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 righi baad 
 Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try 865 
 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*; 870 
 
 And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight. 
 
 Ha 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 feaiiess, though alone 875 
 
 Encompass'd round with foes, thus an^wer'd bold: 
 
 O alienate from God, O Spirit accursed, 
 Forsaken of all good ! I see thy fall 
 Determined, and thy hapless crew involved 
 In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread 880 
 
 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 vouchsafed ; other decrees 
 Against thee are gone forth without recall ; 885 
 
 That golden sceptre, which thou didst reject, 
 Is now an iron rod, to braise and break 
 Thy disobedience. Weil thou didst advise. 
 Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly 
 These wicked tents devoted, lest the wrath S93 
 
 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, 
 
 672. Rev. xix. 6. 
 687. Pa. ii, 9. 
 
Mustering of Hie Waxiior Angels 
 
BOOK VI. 139 
 
 When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know. 895 
 
 So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found 
 Among the faithless, faithful only he ; 
 Among- innumerable false, unmoved, 
 Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified. 
 His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal ; 900 
 
 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 sustain'd 
 Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught ; 905 
 
 And with retorted scorn his back he tuni'd 
 On those proud tow'rs to swift destruction doom'd. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were sent 
 forth to battle ag-ainst 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 his legions to stand still on either side, with his cha- 
 riot and thunder driving into the midst of his enemies, pursues 
 them, unable to resist, towards the wall of Heaven ; which open- 
 ing, they leap down with horror and confusion into the place of 
 punishment prepared for them in the deep : Messiah returns with 
 triumph to his Father. 
 
 All. night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, 
 JC^rough Heav'n's wide champain held his w^^ay/till 
 [ Waked by the circling hours, with rosy hand [morn, 
 \Unbarr'd the gates of light. _^here is a cave 
 WT^Km the mount of God, fast by his throne, 5 
 
 Where light and darkness in perpetual round 
 Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through 
 Grateful vicissitude, like day and night ; [Heav'n 
 Lig'ht issues forth, and at the other door 
 
 896. The character of Abdiel thus introduced has a very beautiful 
 efifect. 
 
 2. Copied from Homer, II. v. 74D. 
 
 6. A passasre of Hesiod is pointed out by Warburton as the or^- 
 ginai of tins'.— Theog. 748. 
 
140 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour IC 
 
 To veil the Heav'n, thoug-h darkness there might well 
 Seem twilight here : and now went forth the morn 
 Such as in highest Heav'n, array 'd in gold 
 Empjrreal ; from before her vanish'd night, 
 Shot through with orient beams; when all the plain. 
 Cover 'd with thick embattled squadrons bright, 10 
 Chariots and flaming arms, and fiery steeds. 
 Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view. 
 War he perceived, war in procinct, and found 
 Already known what he for news had thought 20 
 To have reported. Gladly then he mix'd 
 Among those friendly Pow'rs, who him received 
 With joy and acclamations loud, that one, 
 That of so many myriads fall'n, yet one 
 Return'd not lost. On to the sacred hill 25 
 
 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 singly hast maintain'd 3a 
 
 Against revolted multitudes the cause 
 Of truth, 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 35 
 
 To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds 
 Judged 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 40 
 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 4-5 
 
 Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons 
 Invincible, lead forth my armed Saints, 
 By thousands and by millions ranged for fight, 
 
 18. See Maccabees vi. 39. 
 19. War in procinct, in allusion to the soldiers gfirding them 
 reives up before the battle. 
 
 29. Abdiel in Hebrew means servant of God. 
 Rev. xii, 7, 8, 
 
BOOK VI. 141 
 
 Equal in number to that Godless creM' 
 
 "Rebellious ; them with fire and hostile arms 50 
 
 Fearless assault, and to the brow of Heav'u 
 
 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. 5c 
 
 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 awaked ; nor with less dread the loud 
 Ethereal trumpet from on high 'gan blow : 60 
 
 At which command the powers militant 
 That stood for Heav'n, in mighty quadrate join'd 
 Of union irresistible, moved on 
 In silence their bright legions, to the sound 
 Of instrumental harmony, that breath'd 65 
 
 Heroic ardour to advent'rous deeds 
 Under their God-like 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 70 
 Their perfect ranks ; for high above the ground 
 Their march was, and the passive air upbore 
 Tlieir nimble tread. As when the total kind 
 Of birds, in orderly array on wing. 
 Came summon'd over Eden, to receive 75 
 
 Their names of thee ; so over many a tract 
 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 80 
 
 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 85 
 
 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 
 
 73. So Homer describes the motion of his gods. 
 84. Boastful argument, in allnsion to tlie designs painted on 
 the shields "of knights. 
 
142 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To set the en-vior of his state, the proud 
 Aspirer, but their thoughts proved fond and vain 90 
 In the raid-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 95 
 
 Hymning th' Etei'nal Father; but the shout 
 Of battle now began, and rushing sound 
 Of onset ended soon each milder thought. 
 High in the midst exalted as a God, 
 Th' Apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat, 100 
 
 Idol of majesty divine, inclosed 
 With flaming Cherubim and golden shields; 
 Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now 
 Twixt host and host but narrow space was left 
 (A dreadful interval), and front to front 105 
 
 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 advanced, 
 Came tow'ring-, arm'd in adamant and gold: 110 
 
 Abdiel that sight endured 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 High'st 
 Should yet remain, where faith and realty 115 
 
 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 120 
 
 Unsound and false ; nor is it aught 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 123 
 
 Most reason is that reason overcome. 
 
 So pondering', and from his armed peers 
 Forth stepping opposite, half- way he met 
 
 93. Hosting, a word not first used by Milton, as supposed. 
 115. Realty, not sureness but loyalty, derived from the ItsIiftA 
 word reale, loyal. 
 
BOOK VI. 143 
 
 His daring foe, at this prevention more 
 
 Incensed ; and thus securely him defy'd : 130 
 
 Proud, art thou met ? Thy hope was to have reach 'd 
 The height of thy aspiring unopposed, 
 The throne of God unguarded, and his side 
 Abandon'd at the terror of thy pow'r 
 Or potent tongue : fool ! not to think hovs^ vain 135 
 Against th Omnipotent to rise in arms I 
 Who out of smallest things could without end 
 Have raised incessant armies to defeat 
 Thy folly ! or with solitary hand 
 Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow, 140 
 
 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 145 
 
 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: Til for thee, but in wish'd hour 150 
 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 provoked, since first that tongue, 
 Inspired with contradiction, durst oppose 155 
 
 A third part of the Gods, in synod met 
 Their deities to assert, who while they feel 
 Vigour divine within them, can allcw 
 Omnipotence to none. But well thou com'st 
 Before thy fellows, ambitious to win 160 
 
 From me some plume, that thy success may shew 
 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 heav'nly souls had been all one ; but now 165 
 I see that most through sloth had rather serve, 
 Minist'ring Spirits, train'd up in feast and song : 
 
 147. Sect, not in allusion, as is supposed, to any religious of 
 political party, bu« according to its primitive sense, a division, 
 from scco. 
 
 161. Success, fortune, good or bad, is signified by this word. 
 i67. Heb. i. 14. 
 
144 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Such hast thou arm'd, the minstrelsy of Heav'n, 
 
 Servility with freedom to contend, 
 
 As both their deeds compared this day shall prove. 
 
 To whom in brief thua Abdiel stern reply 'd ? 171 
 Apostate, still thou err'st, nor end v/iit find 
 Of erring, from the path of truth remote. 
 Unjustly thou deprav'st it with the name 
 Of Servitude to serve whom God ordains, 175 
 
 Or Nature; God and Nature hid the same, 
 When he 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, ISO 
 Thyself not free, but to thyself enthrall'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; 185 
 
 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 say'ng, a noble stroke he lifted high, 
 Which hung not, but so swift with tempest tell 190 
 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 195 
 
 Winds under grouad, or waters forcing way 
 Sidelong, had push'd a mountain from his seat, 
 Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement seized 
 The rebel Thrones, but greater rage, to see 
 Thus foil'd their mightiest; ours joy fill'd and shout, 
 Presage of victory and fierce desire 201 
 
 Of battle ; whereat Michael bid sound 
 Th' Arch-Angel trumpet : through the vast of Heav'n 
 It sounded, and the faithful armies rung 
 Hosannah to the Highest : nor stood at gaze 205 
 
 The adverse legions, nor less hideous join'd 
 The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose. 
 And clamour such as heard in Heav'n till now 
 
 183. Said 111 anticipation. 
 
BOOK VI. 145 
 
 Was never; arms on armour clashing bray'd 
 
 Horrible discord, and the madding wheels 210 
 
 Of brazen chariots raged ; dire was the noise 
 
 Of conflict ; over head the dismal hiss 
 
 Of fiery darts in flaming- volleys flew. 
 
 And flying- vaulted either host with lire. 
 
 So under fiery cope together rush'd 215 
 
 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 220 
 
 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 'gainst aroay numberless, to raise 
 
 Dreadful combustion Avarring, and disturb, 225 
 
 Though not destroy, their happy native seat; 
 
 Had not th' Eternal King omnipotent 
 
 From his strong hold of Heav'n high over-ruled 
 
 And limited their might ; though number'd such 
 
 As each divided legion might have seem'd 230 
 
 A num'rous host, in strength, each armed hand 
 
 A legion, led in fight yet leader seem'd 
 
 Each warrior single as in ^^bief, expert 
 
 When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway 
 
 Of battle, open when, and when to close 235 
 
 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 240 
 
 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 245 
 
 The battle hung; till Satan, who that day 
 
 Prodigious pow'r had shone, and met in arms 
 
 No equal, ranging- through the dire attack 
 
 Of fighting Seraphim confused, at length 249 
 
 235. Fields ploughed in ridges form the subject nf this fin« 
 metaphor. 2*4. Tormented, as the Latii?s use vexare, 
 
 H 
 
146 i AilADISE LOST. 
 
 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 v/ithstand 
 He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb 
 Of tenfoM adamant, his ample shield : 253 
 
 A vast circumference. At his approach 
 The great Arch-Angel from his warlike toil 
 Surceased, and glad, as hoping here to end 
 Intestine war in heav'n, tli' arch-foe subdued, 
 Or captive dragg'd in chains, with hostile frov/n 20f 
 And visage all inflamed, lirst thus began : 
 
 Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt. 
 Unnamed in Heav'n, now plenteous, as thou seest 
 These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all, 
 Though heaviest by just measure on thyself 265 
 
 And thy adherents, hov/ hast thou disturb'd 
 Heav'n's blessed peace, and into nature brought 
 Misery, uncreated till the crime 
 Of thy rebellion ? How hast thou iiistilVd 
 Thy malice into thousands, once upright 270 
 
 And faithful, now proved false ? But think not heie 
 To trouble holy rest ; Keav'n casts 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, 2T5 
 
 Thy offspring, to the place of evil. Hell, 
 Thou and thy wicked crew ; there raingie broils 
 Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, 
 Or some more sudden vengeance wing'd from God 
 Precipitate thee with augmented pain. 280 
 
 So spake the Prince of Angels : to whom thus 
 The Ad versary : Nor think thou with wind 
 Of aery 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 285 
 
 Unvanquish'd, easier to transact with me 
 That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats 
 To chase me hence 1 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, 290 
 
 Or turn this Heav'n itself into the Hell 
 
 2S2. Adversary, the meaning of the Hebrew, Satan. 
 
BOOK VI. 147 
 
 Thou fablest, here however to dwell free, 
 
 If not to reign. Mean while thy utmost force, 
 
 And join him named Almighty to thy aid, 
 
 I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh. 295 
 
 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 300 
 
 Of Godlike pow'r? for likest Gods they seem'd, 
 Stood they or moved, in stature, motion, arms, 
 Fit to decide the empire of great Heav'n. 
 Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air 
 Made horrid circles : two broad suns their shields 
 Blazed opposite, while expectation stood 306 
 
 In horror: from each hand with speed retired. 
 Where erst was thickest fight, th' angelic throng. 
 And left large field, unsafe within the wind 
 Of such commotion: such as, to set forth 310 
 
 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 316 
 
 Uplifted imminent, one stroke they aim'd 
 That might determine, and not need repeat, 
 As not of pow'r at once ; nor odds appear'd 
 In might or swift prevention. But the sword 320 
 Of Michael from the armoury of God, 
 Was giv'n him temper d so, that neither keen 
 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, 325 
 But with swift wheel reverse, deep ent'ring shared 
 All his right side : then Satan first knew pain. 
 And writhed him to and fro convolved ; so sore 
 The griding sword with discontinuous wound 
 
 208. Can relate or liken : the substantive yZ^A^ before mentioned 
 must be understood after these verbs. 
 
 312. Bentlev proposes to read warfare instead of war here. 
 
 321. SoVirail mentions the sword of ^neas ; Homer and Tasso 
 also are imitated in this passag-e. 
 
 325. Homer, II. iii. 363. Virg-il, ^n. xii. 731. 
 
 329. Disccnlinuous, separating' the parts. 
 
148 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Pass'd through him : hut th* ethereal substance closed, 
 Not long- divisible; and from the gash 331 
 
 A stream of nect'rous humour issuing-, flow'd 
 Sanguine, such as celestial Spirits may bleed, 
 And all his ai'niour stain'd ere while so bright. 
 Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run 335 
 
 By angels many' and strong-, who interposed 
 Defence, while others bore him on their shields 
 Back to his chariot, where it stood retired 
 From oif the files of war : there they him laid 
 Gnashing- for anguish, and despite, and shame, 340 
 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 ev'ry part, not as frail man 345 
 
 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, 350 
 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 deserved 
 Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought, 355 
 And with fierce ensigns pierced the deex> 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 360 
 Down cloven to the waist, with shatter'd arms 
 And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing 
 Uriel and Raphael his vaunting foe, 
 
 332. Homer calls the blood flowing- from tlie gods ichor, that 
 is, a pure fluid corresponding to the more refined substance ot 
 their bodies. Bentley reads^ ichorous instead of nect'rous, bill 
 this would be a tautology as sanguine follows. — See Horn. II. v. 
 
 335. Was run, a Latinism, ventum est. 
 
 3.55. The 7night of Gabriel fojight, u Creek expression frequeui 
 In Homer. ^ ,,.,... 
 
 362. So Mars is represented flying from battle in the Iliad. 
 
 3fi3. Raphael speaks here in the third person of himself, '.lir. 
 name being unknown to Adam —Some «-itics propose to add 
 each after Raphael. 
 
BOOK VI. 149 
 
 Though huge, and in a rock of diamond arm'd, 
 Vanquish'd Adramelech and Asmadai, 363 
 
 Two potent Thrones, that to he less than Gods 
 Disdain'd, hut meaner thoughts learn'd in their flight, 
 Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and 
 Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy [mail. 
 
 The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow 370 
 
 Ariel and Arioch, and the violence 
 Of Ramiel scorch'd and blasted overthrew. 
 I might relate of thousands, and their names 
 Eternize hei-e on earth ; but those elect 
 Angels, contented with their fame in Heaven, 375 
 Seek not the praise of men. Ihe other sort 
 In might though wondrous, and in acts of war, 
 Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom 
 Cancell'd from Heaven and sacred memory, 
 Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. 380 
 
 For strength from truth divided and from just, 
 Illaudable, nought merits but dispraise 
 And ignominy ; yet to glory' aspires 
 Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame : 
 Therefore eternal silence be their doom. 385 
 
 And no w their mightiest queird, the battle swerved. 
 With many an inroad gored ; deformed rout 
 Enter'd, and foul disorder ; ail the ground 
 With shiver'd armour strewn, and on a heap 
 Chariot and charioteer lay overturn'd, 390 
 
 And fiery foaming steeds : what stood, recoil'd 
 O'erwearied, through the faint Satanic host 
 Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surprised, 
 Then first with fear surprised and sense of pain. 
 Fled ignominious, to such evil brought 395 
 
 By sin of disobedience, till that hour 
 Not liable to fear, or flight, or pain. 
 Far otherwise th' inviolable Saints 
 In cubic phalanx firm advanced entire, 
 Invulnerable, impenetrably arm'd : 400 
 
 Such high advantages their innocence 
 Gave them above their foes, not to have sinn'd, 
 
 365. Adrawelech, afterwards one of the idols of Sepharvaim, 
 2 Kings xvii 31. Asmadai, the same as Asraodeiis, Tobit iii. <'. 
 
 yn^ Ariel, a name in Hebrew, meaning- a stron"- lion : Arioch 
 has a similar sense. Ramiel, one exalting- hiniseli ag-ainst God. 
 
 391. What stood is the nominative to the verbs recoWd anu tied* 
 
150 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Not to have disoLey'd : in figlit they stood 
 Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pairi'd 404 
 
 By wound, tho' from their place by violence moved. 
 
 Now Night her course began, and over Heaven 
 Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed. 
 And silence on the odious din of war. 
 Under her cloudy covert both retired, 
 Victor and vanquish'd, on the foughten field 410 
 
 Micha(§l and his angels prevalent 
 Encamping, placed in guard their watches round, 
 Cherubic waving fires. On th' other part 
 •Satan with his rebellious disappear'd. 
 Far in the dark dislodged ; and void of rest, 415 
 
 His potentates to council call'd by night ; 
 And in the midst thus undismay'd began : 
 
 O now in danger try'd, now known in arms, 
 Not to be overpow'r'd. Companions dear. 
 Found worthy not of liberty alone, 420 
 
 Too mean pretentje, but what we more aifect, 
 Honour, dominion, glory, and renown ; 
 Who have sustain'd one day in doubtful fight 
 (And if one day, why not eternal days 1) 
 What Heaven's Lord had pow'rfuUest to send 425 
 Against us from about his throne, and judged 
 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'd, 430 
 Some disadvantage we endured 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 pierced with wound, 435 
 Soon closing, and by native vigour heal'd. 
 Of evil then so small, as easy think 
 The remedy ; perhaps more valid arms. 
 Weapons raore violent, when next we meet. 
 May serve to better us, and worse our foes ; 440 
 
 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, 
 407. Inducing, bringing on. 
 
BOOK VI. 151 
 
 Due search and consultation will disclose. 445 
 
 He sat ; and in th' assembly next upstood 
 Nisroch, of principalities the piime- 
 As one he stood escaped from cruel fight, 
 Sore toil'd, his riven arms to havoc hewn, 
 And cloudy in aspect, thus answ'ring spate : 450 
 
 Delivei'er from new Lords, leader to free 
 Enjoyment of our right as Gods : yet hard 
 For Gods, and too unequal work, we find. 
 Against unequal arms to fight in pain. 
 Against unpain'd, impassive ; from Avhich evil 455 
 Ruin must needs ensue ; for what avails 
 Valour or strength, though matchless, quell'd with 
 
 pain 
 Which all suhdues, and makes remiss the hands 
 Of mightiest ? Sense of pleasure we may well 
 Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, 4G0 
 
 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 405 
 
 Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm 
 Ourselves with like defence, to me deserves 
 No less than for deliverance what we owe. 
 
 Whereto, with look composed, Satan i*eply'd: 
 Not uninvented that, which thou aright 470 
 
 Believ'st so main to our success, I bring. 
 Which of us who beholds the bright surface 
 Of this ethereous mould whereon we stand. 
 This continent of spacious Heav'n, adorn'd 
 With plant, fruit, flow'r ambrosial, gems, and gold ; 
 Whose eye so superficially surveys 47(5 
 
 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 bounteous, op'ning to the ambient light 1 481 
 
 These in their dark nativity the deep 
 
 447. Nisroch, god of the Assyrians, in whose temple Senna- 
 cherib was slain. 2 King-s xix. 37. and Isa. xxvii. 37. 
 
 482. The deep, not hell, as is usually meant by this word, bu< 
 the under parts of the ground. 
 
152 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Shall yield uis, pregnant with infernal flame ; 
 Which into hollow engines, long and round, 
 Thick ramm'd, at th' other bore with touch of fire 485 
 Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth 
 From far, with thund'ring- noise among our foes. 
 Such implements of mischief, as shall dash 
 To pieces, and o'erwhelm whatever stands 
 Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarm'd 490 
 The Tliund'rer of his only dreaded bolt. 
 Nor long shall be our labour ; yet ere dawn. 
 Effect shall end our wish. Mean while revive ; 
 Abandon fear ; to strength and council join'd 
 Think nothing hard, much less to be despair'd. 495 
 
 He ended, and his words their drooping cheer 
 Enlighten'd, and their languish'd hope revived, 
 Th' invention all admired, and each, how he 
 To he th' inventor miss'd ; so easy' it seem'd 
 Once found, which yet unfound most would have 
 thought 500 
 
 Impossible ; yet haply of thy race 
 In future days, if malice should abound. 
 Some one intent on mischief, or inspired 
 With dev'lish machination, might devise 
 Like instrument to plague the sons of men 505 
 
 For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. 
 Forthwith from council to the work they flew ; 
 None arguing stood ; innumerable hands 
 Were ready ; in a moment up they turn'd 
 Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath 510 
 
 Th' originals of nature in their crude 
 Conception ; sulphurous and nitrous foam 
 They found, they mingled, and with subtle art. 
 Concocted and adjusted they reduced 
 To blackest grain, and into store convey'd. 515 
 
 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. 520 
 
 So all ere day-spring, under conscious night, 
 Secret they finish'd, and in order set, 
 
 r20 Pernicious ; to be understood, it is probable, as the Latii: 
 pe-nisif quick, speedy. 
 
BOOK VI. 153 
 
 With silent circumspection unespy'd. 
 
 ISow when fair morn orient in Heav'n appear'd, 
 Up rose the victor Angels, and to arms 52-5 
 
 The matin-trumpet sung-. In arms they stood 
 Of golden panoply, refulg-ent host, 
 Soon banded : others from the dawning hills 
 Look'd round, and scouts each coast light-armed scourj 
 Each quarter, to descry the distant foe, 53C 
 
 Where lodged, or M^hither iled, or if for fig'ht, 
 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, 535 
 
 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 540 
 
 Sad resolution and secure. Let each 
 His adamantine coat gird well, and each 
 Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield, 
 Borne ev'n or high ; for this day will pour down. 
 If I conjecture aught, no drizzling show'r, 545 
 
 But rattling storm of arrows barb'd with lire. 
 
 So warn'd he them, aware themselves, and soon 
 In order, quit of all impediment ; 
 Instant without disturb they took alarm, 
 And onward moved embattled ; when behold, 550 
 Not distant far with heavy pace the foe 
 Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube 
 Training his devilish engin'ry, impaled 
 On ev'ry side with shadowing squadrons deep, 
 To hide the fraud. At interview both stood 556 
 
 A while ; but suddenly at head appear'd 
 Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud : 
 
 Vang-uard, to right and left the front unfold, 
 That all may see who hate us, how we seek 
 Peace and composure, and with open breast 5GQ 
 
 527. Panoply, complete armour. 
 
 535. Zophiel, the spy of God. 
 
 541. Sad, sullen, or as in old authors grave and serious. 
 
 548. Impediment, like the Latin impedimenta^ the bajfgage 
 
 of an arn)y. 
 
 553. Training, drawing in train, 
 
 H2 
 
154 PvXRADISE LOST. 
 
 Stand ready to receive them, if they like 
 Our overture, and turn not back perverse ; 
 But that I doubt. However witness Heaven, 
 Heav'n witness thou anon, while we discharge 
 Freely our part ; ye who appointed stand, 563 
 
 Do as ye 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 retired : 57Q 
 
 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 flr, 
 With branches lopt, in wood or jnountain fell'd) 575 
 Brass, iron, stony mold, had not their mouths 
 With hideous orifice gaped on us wide. 
 Portending hollow truce. At each, behind, 
 A Seraph stood, and in his hand, a reed 
 Stood waving, tipt with fire : while we suspense 5S0 
 Collected stood within our thoughts amused. 
 Not long, for sudden ail at once their reeds 
 Put forth, and to a narrow vent apply 'd 
 With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, 584 
 
 But soon obscured with smoke, all Heav'n appear'd. 
 From those deep-throated engines belch'd, whose roar 
 Imbowel'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 590 
 
 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 595 
 Have easily as Spirits evaded swift 
 By quick contraction or remove ; but now 
 Foul dissipation follow'd and forced rout; 
 Nor served it to relax their serried files. 
 
 576. Mold, substance. There are stone cannon, it is saif), al 
 Delft in Holland, and Milton is supposed to have taken this idea 
 trom bavin;? seen them, 
 580. Held, instead of stood, is proposed as a nevr readinn'i^ 
 599. Serried, from the Italian serrato; close, compact. 
 
BOOK VI. 155 
 
 What should they do? If on they rush'd, repulse 600 
 
 Repeated, and indecent overthrow 
 
 Doubled, would render theni yet more despised. 
 
 And to their foes a laug-hter; for in view 
 
 Stood rank'd of Seraphim another row. 
 
 In posture to displode their second tire 605 
 
 Of f hunder : 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? 
 Ere while they fierce were coming-; and when we 
 To entertain them fair with open front ClI 
 
 And breast (what could Ave more ?) propounded terms 
 Of composition, straight they changed their minds, 
 Flew off, and into strangle vagaries fell, 
 As they would dance ; yet for a dance they seem'd 
 Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps 616 
 
 For joy of offer'd peace. But 1 suppose. 
 If our proposals once again were heard. 
 We should compel them to a quick result. 
 
 To whom thus Belial, in like gamesome mood : 620 
 Leader, the terms we sent wei'e terms of weight. 
 Of hard contents, and full of force urged home, 
 Such as we might perceive amused them all. 
 And stumbled many ; who receives them right, 
 Had need from head to foot well understand ; 625 
 Not understood, this gift they have besides. 
 They shew 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 630 
 
 To match with their inventions they presumed 
 So easy', and of his thunder made a scorn. 
 And all his host derided, while they stood 
 A while in trouble : but they stood not long ; 
 Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms 
 Against such hellish mischief fit to' oppose 636 
 
 Forthwith (behold the excellence, the pow'r, 
 Which God hath in his mighty Angels placed !) 
 Their arms away they threw, and to the hills 
 (For earth hath this variety from Heav'n 640 
 
 620. Belial was mostfittod bv liis choracter to make tlie answci 
 were '635. See Virgil, JEn. i. ir>0. 
 
156 PARADFSR LOST. 
 
 Of pleasure situate in hill and dale) 
 
 Light as the lightning- glimpse they ran, they flew ; 
 
 From their foundations loos'ning to and fro, 
 
 The^^ pluck'd the seated hills with all their load. 
 
 Rocks, waters, woods, and, by the shaggy tops 645 
 
 Uplifting, bore them in their hands. Amaze, 
 
 Be sure, and terror seized the rebel host. 
 
 When coming towards them so dread they saw 
 
 The bottom of the mountains upward turn'd ; 
 
 Till on those cursed engines triple-row 650 
 
 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 654 
 
 Came shadowing, and oppress'd whole legions arm'd. 
 
 Their armour help'd their harm,c-rush'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; 66C 
 
 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, 665 
 
 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 Heav'n 
 
 Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread, 670 
 
 Had not th* Almighty Father, where he sits 
 
 Shrined in his sanctuary of Heav'n secure, 
 
 Consulting- on the sum of things, foreseen 
 
 This tumult, and permitted all, advised : 
 
 That his great purpose he might so fulfil, 675 
 
 To honour his anointed Son avenged 
 
 661. It is hardly necessary to call the reader's attention to the 
 admirable moral lesson given by the idea m this line. 
 
 669. It should be observed how the horrors thicken as this war 
 of ang-els proceeds: no poet ever equalled the terrible sublimity 
 of these descriptions. Homer we cannot doubt would have done 
 60, had he had Milton's subject and the prophets' light which 
 revelation gave him, but as it was, he could soar no higher than 
 the hignest point of earth, which though he made it the very 
 throne of sublimity was still but earth. 
 
BOOK VI. 157 
 
 Upon his enemies, and to declare 
 
 All pow'r on him transferr'd : whence to his Son 
 
 Th' Accessor of his throne, he thus beg'an ; 
 
 Effulgence of my glory, Son beloved, 630 
 
 Son in whose face invisible is beheld 
 Visibly what by Deity I am. 
 And in v/hose hand what by decree I do, 
 Second Omnipotence, two days are past. 
 Two days, as we compute the days of Heav'n, 68a 
 Since Michael and his Fow'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, 690 
 
 Save what sin hath impair'd, which yet hath 
 Insensibly, for I suspend their doom ; [wrought 
 
 Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last 
 Endless, and no solution will be found. 
 War wearied hath perfonn'd what war can do, 695 
 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 700 
 
 Have suffer'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 transfused, that all may know 
 In Heav'n and Hell thy pow'r above compare; 7C5 
 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, 710 
 Ascend my chariot, guide the rapid wheels 
 That shake Heav'n's basis, bring forth all my war. 
 My bow and thuader ; my almighty arms 
 Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh : 
 Pursue these sons of darkness, drive them out 715 
 From all Heav'n*s bounds into the utter deep ; 
 There let them learn, as likes them, to despise 
 
 681. Invisible, for, that which is invisible. 
 710. See the originol of this splendid passage, Ps. xlv, 3, 4» 
 
158 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 God and Messiah his anointed King. 
 
 He said, and on his Son with rays direct 
 Shone full ; he all his Father full express'd 7^ 
 
 Ineffably into hi«» face received; 
 And thus the filial Godhead answ'ring, spake : 
 
 O Father, O Supreme of Heav'nly Thrones, 
 First, Highest, Holiest, Best, thou always seek'st 
 To glorify thy Son ; I always thee, 725 
 
 As is most just ; this I my glory' account, 
 My exaltation, and my whole delight. 
 That thou in me well pleased, declar'st thy will 
 Fulfiird ; which to fulfil is all my bliss. 
 Sceptre and pow'r, thy giving, I assume, 730 
 
 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, 735 
 
 Image of thee in all things ; and shall soon, 
 Arm'd with thy might, rid Heav'n of these rebell'd. 
 To their prepared ill mansion driv'n down. 
 To chains of darkness, and th' undying worm. 
 That from thy just obedience could revolt, 740 
 
 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. 745 
 
 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- 
 The chariot of paternal Deity, [wind sound 
 
 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 beryl, and careering fires between ; 756 
 
 732. 1 Cor. XV. 24. and John xvii. 
 
 748. Milton is supposed, by making- the contest last three days, to 
 
 allude to the time occupied bv the death and resurrection of Chrisfc 
 
 749. See Ezekiel i. 4, also Isa. Ixvi. 15. 
 
BOOK VI. 15S 
 
 Over their heads a crystal iirrnaraeiit, 
 
 Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 
 
 Amber, and coloui-s of the vshow'ry arch. 
 
 He in celestial panoply all arm'd 7<I0 
 
 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 stored ; 
 
 And from about him fierce effusion roU'd 765 
 
 Of smoke and bick'i'ing 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. 770 
 
 He on the wings of Cherub rode sublime 
 
 On the crystalline sky, in sapphire throned, 
 
 niustrious far and wide, but by his own 
 
 First seen; them unexpected joy surprised. 
 
 When the great ensign of Messiah blazed 775 
 
 Aloft, by Angels borne, his sign in Heav'n ; 
 
 Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced 
 
 His army, circumfused on either wing, 
 
 Under their Head embody'd all in one. 
 
 Before him pow'r divine his way prepared : 780 
 
 At his command th' uprooted hills retired 
 
 Each to his place; they heard his voice, and went 
 
 Obsequious; Heav'n his wonted face renew'd, 
 
 And with fresh fiow'rets hill and valley smiled. 
 
 Phis saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured, 785 
 
 And to rebellious fight rallied their Pow'rs 
 
 Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. 
 
 In Heav'nly Spirits could such perverseness dwell? 
 
 But to convince the proud what signs avail. 
 
 Or wonders move th' obdurate to relent? 790 
 
 They, harden'd more by what might most reclaim. 
 
 Grieving to see his glory, at the sight 
 
 Took envy ; and aspiring to his highth. 
 
 Stood re-embattled fierce, by force or fraud 
 
 760. The Urim and Thumnnm formed part of Aaron's breast 
 plate. Tlie former in Hebrew means lighty the \niier perfection. 
 
 765. Ps. xviii. 8. 1. 3. for the next line see Jude 14. Ps. IxviJi. 
 17. Revvii. 4. 771. Ps. xviii. 10. 
 
 776. 1 1 is doiibtfal whether Milton aikuied to any particular si srn 
 hce but assuredly, I think, not to the cross, as has been supposed. 
 
 M 
 
163 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Weening to prosper, and at length prevail 795 
 
 Against God and Messiah, or to fall 
 
 In universal ruin last ; and now 
 
 To final battle drew, disdaining flight 
 
 Or faint retreat; when the great Son of God 
 
 To all his host on either hand thus spake : 800 
 
 Stand still in bright array, ye Saints ; here stand 
 Ye Angels arm'd, this day from battle rest: 
 Faithful hath been your waifare, and of God 
 Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause ; 
 And as ye have received, so have ye done 805 
 
 Invincibly : but of this cursed crew 
 I'he 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 810 
 
 God's indignation on these Godless pour'd 
 By me ; not you, but me, they have despised, 
 Yet envy'd. Against me is all their rage, 
 Because the Father, t' whom in Heav'n supreme 
 Kingdom, and pow'r, and glory appertains, 815 
 
 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 S20 
 
 They measure all, of other excellence 
 Not emulous, nor care who them excels ; 
 Nor other strife with them do I vouchsafe. 
 
 So spake the Son, and into terror changed 
 His count'nance, too severe to be beheld, 825 
 
 And full of wrath bent on his enemies. 
 At once the Four spread out their starry wing"? 
 With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs 
 Of his fierce chariot roU'd, as with the sOund 
 Of torrent floods, or of a num'rous host. 83C 
 
 He on his impious foes right onward drove. 
 Gloomy as night : under his burning wheels 
 The steadfast empyrean shook throu^^hout, 
 All but the throne itself of God. Full soon 
 Among them he arrived ; in his right hand 835 
 
 832. Gloomy as nightf from Hoiuer, who so mentions Apollo 
 and Hector. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 161 
 
 Grasping- ten thousand thunders, which he sent 
 
 Before him, such as in their souls infix'd 
 
 Plagues. They astonish'd, all resistance lost, 
 
 A.11 courage ; down their idle weapons dropt ; 
 
 O'er shields and helms and helmed heads he rode 
 
 Of Thrones and mighty Seraphim prostrate, 841 
 
 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 fourfold-visaged Four, 845 
 
 Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels 
 
 Distinct alike with multitude of eyes ; 
 
 One Spirit in them ruled, and ev'ry eye 
 
 Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire 
 
 Among th' accursed, that wither'd all their strength, 
 
 And of their wonted vigour left them drain'd, 851 
 
 Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fall'n. 
 
 Yet half his strength he put not forth, hut check'd 
 
 His thunder in mid volley ; for he meant 
 
 Not to destroy, hut root them out of Heav'n. 855 
 
 The overthrown he raised, and, as a herd 
 
 Of goats or tim'rous flock together throng'd. 
 
 Drove them before him thunder-struck, 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 disclosed 861 
 
 Into the wasteful deep. The monstrous sight 
 
 Struck them with horror backward, but far worse 
 
 Urg-ed them behind : headlong themselves they threw 
 
 DoAvn from the yerge of Heav'n ; eternal wrath 860 
 
 Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. 
 
 Hell heard th' unsufferable 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. S70 
 Nine days they fell: confounded Chaos roar'd. 
 And felt tenfold confusion in their fall 
 Through his wild anarchy, so huge a rout 
 Incumber'd him with ruin. Hell at last 
 Yawning, received them whole, and on them closed : 
 Sell, their fit habitation, fraught with fire 876 
 
 S42. Rev. vi. 16. 859. Job vi. 4. 
 
 858. Ruining, from the Latin ruo, to rush or fall headlong-. 
 
162 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. 
 
 Disbarden'd Heav'n rejoiced, and soon repair'd 
 
 Her mural breach, returning ^yhence it roll'd. 
 
 Sole victor from th' expulsion of his foes, 830 
 
 Messiah his triumphal chariot turn'd : 
 
 To nieet him, all his saints, who silent stood 
 
 Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts. 
 
 With jubilee advanced; and as they went. 
 
 Shaded with branching palm, each order bright, 885 
 
 Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, 
 
 Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given, 
 
 Worthiest to reign. He celebrated rode 
 
 Triumphant through mid Heav n, into the courts 
 
 And temple of his Mighty Fatlier throned 890 
 
 On high ; who into glory him received; 
 
 Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss. 
 
 Thus measuring things in Heav'n by things o» 
 Earth, 
 At thy request, and that thou may'st beware 
 By what is past, to thee I have reveal'd SQ.'j 
 
 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, 900 
 
 Who now is plotting how he may seduce 
 Thee also from obedience, that with him 
 Bereaved of happiness thou may'st partake 
 His punishment, eternal misery : 
 Which would be all his solace and revenge, 905 
 
 As a despite done against the Most High, 
 Thee once to gain companion of his woe. 
 But listen not to his temptations, warn 
 Thy weaker ; let it profit thee to' have heard. 
 By teirible example, the reward 910 
 
 Of disobedience. Firm they might have stood. 
 Yet fell ; remember, and fear to transgress. 
 
 888. Rev. iv. ij. 
 eoo. Him is understood after envies— or, it is after **• 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Raphael, at the request of Adam, relates how and wherefore 
 this world was first created : that God after the expelling of Sa- 
 tan and his Angels out of Heaven, declared his pleasure to create 
 another world and other creatures to dwell therein ; sends Lis 
 Son with glory and attendance of Angels to perform the work of 
 creation in six days ; the Angels celebrate with hymns the per 
 formance thereof, and his reascension into Heaven. 
 
 Descend from Heav'n, Urania, by that name 
 If rightly thou art call'd; Avhose voice divine 
 Following, above th' Olympian hill I soar, 
 Above the flight of Pegasean wing. 
 The meaning, not the name I call ; for thou 5 
 Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top 
 Of old Olympus dv^ell'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 10 
 In presence of th' Almighty Father, pleased 
 With thy celestial song. Up led by thee 
 Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns I have presumed, 
 An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air, 
 Thy temp'ring. W^ith like safety guided down, 15 
 Return me to my native element; 
 Lest from this flying steed, unrein'd (as once 
 Bellerophon, though from a lower clime), 
 
 1. Milton has, throng-hout his poem, shewn tlie most admirable 
 skill in adapting to his purpose, such parts of the classical my- 
 tiiology as he wished to employ. He has been much blamed for 
 his frequent, and, as it is thought, affected display of learning Ir. 
 lliis particular ; but there is a circumstance which has not, I be- 
 lieve, struck the minds of his commentators, which goes far to 
 justify him in this respect. -Milton's imagination, filled with tha 
 ricli antiquity of his theme, was necessarily frequently occupied 
 by tlie splendid pomps with wliich superstition crowds her temple, 
 but he could not contemplate a single part of his si'.bject, without 
 puttinji the truth of nature and revelation in juxta position witU 
 the corruptions of both. Hence many of his most beautiful ideas 
 are niixed up with these allusions, and it can hardly fail the no- 
 tice of a reflecting reader, that the miiid never once losing sight 
 of the various forms under which the enemies of God have ap- 
 peared, comprehends fbe compass of the poem more closely than 
 it could otherwise have done. 
 
 8 Proverbs viii. 24. 
 
 18. Bellerophon ; he attempted, if is said, to mount to heaven 
 Oil the winged horse Pegasus, and fell in the Aleian field or in 
 Cilicia. 
 
161 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 DismouTited, on th' Aleian field I fall 
 FaToueous, there to wander and forlorn. 20 
 
 Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound 
 /-^Within the visible diurnal sphere ; -^ 
 
 VvStanding on earth, not rapt above the pole> 
 Alore safe I sing with mortal. voice, unchanged 
 To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, 25 
 On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues ; 
 In darkness, and with dangers compass 'd round 
 And solitude !^et not alone, while thou 
 Visit'st my slumbers nightl5rXor whed morn 
 Purples the eastX^ still govern thou my song, 30 
 
 Urania, and fit audience find, though few; 
 But drive far off the barb'rous dissonance 
 Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race 
 Of that Avild rout that tore the Thracian bard 
 Tn Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears 35 
 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 di'eam. 
 
 Say, Goddess, what ensued when Raphael, 40 
 
 The affable Arch- Angel, had forewarn'd 
 Adam, by dire example, to beware 
 Apostasy, by what befel in Heav'n 
 To those apostates, lest the like befal 
 In Paradise to Adam or his race, 45 
 
 Charged 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 50 
 The story heard attentive, and Avas fiU'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 55 
 
 21. Half of tlie Episode, or Raphael's account. 
 25. An allusion to the condition of himself in the profligfate an<l 
 irreligious times of Charles the Second, during which blind and 
 nearlected, he lived in an obscure retreat, but probably in danger 
 of persecution for his principles. 
 
 * 33. Orpheus, the Thracian bard was torn to pieces by the vo- 
 taries or Bacchus, in Rhodope, a mountain of T Ijrace. 
 
BOOK VII. 165 
 
 With such confusion : but the evil soon 
 Driv'n back, redounded as a flood on those 
 Frona whom it sprung-, impossible to mix 
 With blessedness. Whence Adam soon repeal'd 
 The doubts that in his heart arose : and now 60 
 
 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 
 What within Eden or without was done 65 
 
 Before his memory, as one whose drouth 
 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, 70 
 Far difF'ring 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 7(5 
 
 Immortal thanks, and his admonishment 
 Receive with solemn purpose, to observe 
 Immutably his sov'rcign will, the end 
 Of what we are. But since thou hast vouchsafed 80 
 Gently for our insti'uction 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 us known : 85 
 
 How first began this Heav'n which we behold 
 Distant so high, with moving fires adorn'd 
 Innumerable, and this which yields or fills 
 All space, the ambient air wide interfused 
 Embracing round this florid Earth ; what cause 90 
 Moved the Creator in his holy rest 
 Through all eternity so late to build 
 In Chaos, and the work begun, how soon 
 Absolved, if iinforbid thou may'st unfold 
 What we, not to explore the secrets, ask 95 
 
 92. A question often since asked- but well answered by the con- 
 iideralion, that whenever the world had been created there would 
 have been an eternity before its existence. 
 
166 FARADiSE LOST. 
 
 Of his eternal empire, but the more 
 
 To 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, 100 
 
 And longer will delay to hear tliee tell 
 
 His generation, and the rising birth 
 
 Of nature from the unapparent deep ; 
 
 Or if the star of ev'ning and the moon 
 
 Haste to thy audience, night with her will bring 105 
 
 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. 
 
 Thus Adam his illustrious guest besought ; 
 And thus the God-like Angel answer'd mild : 110 
 
 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 116 
 
 Thee also happier, shall not be withheld 
 Thy hearing ; such commission from above 
 I have received, to answer thy desire 
 Of knowledge within bounds ; beyond abstain 120 
 To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope 
 Things not reveal'd, which th' invisible King-, 
 Only omniscient, hath suppress'd in nip-ht ; 
 To none communicable in Eai-th or Heav'n ; 
 Enough is left besides to search and know : 125 
 
 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 foily', as nourishment to wind. 130 
 
 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 135 
 
 V^ictorious with his saints, th' Omnipotent 
 Eternal Father from his throne beheld 
 
 103. Gen. i. 2. 122. Invisible, so in Scripture. 
 
BOOK Vfl. 167 
 
 Their multitixde, and to his Son thus spake : 
 
 At least our envious foe hath fail'd, who thought 
 All like himself rebellious : by whose aid 140 
 
 This inaccessible high strength, the seat 
 Of Deity supreme, us dispossess'd, 
 He trusted to have seized, and into fraud 
 Drew many, whom their place knows here no more ; 
 Yet far the greater part have kept, I see, 145 
 
 Their station ; Heav'n yet 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 150 
 
 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 nxan a race 155 
 
 Of men innumerable, there to dwell. 
 Not here, till by degrees of merit raised. 
 They open to themselves at length the way 
 Up hither, under long obedience try'd. 
 And Earth be changed to Heav'n, and Heav'n to Earth, 
 One kingdom, joy and union without end. 161 
 
 Mean v/hile 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 overshadowing Spirit and might with thee 165 
 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 uncircumscribed myself retire 170 
 
 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. 
 
 139. At last, instead of at least, is proposed. 
 144. Job vii. 10. 
 160. In allusion probably to the new heaven and new earth 
 before mentioned, and not, as is suppoeed, to any mere improve- 
 ment in man. 
 
 162. Lax, free to follow their former angelic pleasures and 
 occupations. It has no relation, as Newton supposes, to space 
 or room. 
 
 165. Lukei 35. 
 
168 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 So spake th' Almighty, and to what he spake. 
 His Word, the filial Godhead, gave effect. 175 
 
 Immediate are the acta 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, 180 
 
 When such was heard declared th' Almighty's will. 
 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 185 
 
 And th' habitations of the just : to him 
 Gloi^y 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 tlience diffuse 19^ 
 
 His good to worlds and ages infinite. 
 
 So sang the Hierarchies : Mean while the Son 
 On his great expedition now appear'd. 
 Girt with omnipotence, with radiance crown'd 
 Of majesty divine ; sapience and love 195 
 
 Immense, and all his Father in him shone. 
 About his chariot numberless were pour'd 
 Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones, 
 And Virtues, winged Spirits, and chariots wing'd 
 From th' armoury of God, where stand of old 200 
 Myriads between two brazen mountains lodged 
 Against a solemn day, harness'd at hand. 
 Celestial equipage : and now came forth 
 Spontaneous, for within them Spirit lived, 
 Attendant on their Lord : Heav'n open'd wide ^-05 
 Her ever-dui-ing gates, harmonious sound! 
 On golden hinges moving, to let forth 
 The King of Glory in his pow'rful Word 
 And Spirit coming to ci'eate new worlds. 
 On heav'nly ground they stood, and from the shore 
 They view'd the vast immeasurable abyss 211 
 
 Outrageous as a sea, dai'k, wasteful, wild, 
 ^p from the bottom turn'd by furious winds 
 And surging waves, as mountains, to assault 
 
 182. God instead of the is proposed by Bentley, 
 192. Zech. vi. J, 
 
BOOK VII. 1G9 
 
 Heavn'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, hut on the wings of Cherubim 
 Uplifted, in paternal glory rode 
 
 Far into Chaos, and the world unborn ; 220 
 
 For Chaos heard his voice : him all his train 
 Follow'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, prepared 22.'* 
 
 In God's eternal store, to circumscribe 
 This universe, and all created things. 
 One foot he center'd, and the other turn'd 
 Round through the vast profundity obscure. 
 And said. Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds, 230 
 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, 235 
 And vital virtue' infused and vital warmth 
 Throughout the fluid mass, but downward purged 
 The black tartareous cold infernal dregs 
 Adverse to life : then founded, then conglobed 
 Like things to like, the rest to sev'ral place 240 
 
 Disparted, and between spun out the air ; 
 And Earth, self-balanced, on her centre hung. 
 
 Let there be light, said God ; and forthwith light 
 Ethereal first of things, quintessence pure, 
 
 \Sprung from the deep, and from her native east) 245 
 To journey through the aery gloom began, / 
 
 I Sphered in a radiant cloud ;| for yet the sun 
 225. Prov. viii. 27. 
 232. It is well observed, that this book is a mag-nificent para- 
 phrase of the Mosaic account of the creation. 
 243. Gen. i. 3. I cannoi but observe here that one of the most 
 sublime, and at the same time learned of modern reasoners, in 
 speaiiing- to me on this passage of Scripture, remarked, that the 
 usual way in which it is understood is not only incorrect, but 
 greatly diminishes its sublimity, ft is hiehly wrono-, according to 
 hill), tc suppose that light was first called into being on the crea- 
 tion of this world, for Heaven nad been forever filled with it, and 
 God himself is compared to it ; the expression, consequently, 
 *Let there be light,' is to be interpreted, ♦ Let the light flow forth, 
 lot there be light shining from its great original fountain on the 
 commencing system.' 
 
 I 
 
170 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Was not : she in a cloudy tabernacle 
 
 Sojourn'd the while. God saw the light was good ; 
 
 And light from darkness by the hemisphere 250 
 
 Divided : light the Day, and darkness Night 
 
 He named. 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 255" 
 
 Birth-day of Heav'n and Earth ; with joy and shout 
 
 The hollow universal orb they fiU'd, 
 
 Andtouch'd their golden harps, and hymning praised 
 
 God and his works; Creator him they sung, 
 
 Both when first ev'ning was, and when first morn. 
 
 Again, God said, Let there be firmament 261 
 
 Amid the waters, and let it divide 
 The waters from the waters. And God made 
 The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure, 
 Transparent, elemental air, diifused 265 
 
 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 270 
 
 Crystalline ocean, and the loud misrule 
 Of Chaos far removed, lest fierce extremes 
 Contiguous might distemper the whole frame : 
 And Heav'n he named the Firmament. So ev'n 
 And morning chorus sung the second day. 275 
 
 The earth was form'd, but in the womb as yet 
 Of waters, embryon immature involved, 
 Appear'd not. Over all the face of th' earth 
 Main ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warm 
 Prolific humour soft'ning all her globe, 280 
 
 Fermented the great mother to conceive, 
 Satiate with genial moisture, when God said. 
 Be gather 'd now, ye waters under Heav'n, 
 Into one place, and let dry land appear. 
 Immediately the mountains huge appear 285 
 
 Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave 
 
 256. Job xxxviii. 4. 7. I mi^ht multiply references without end 
 la this part of the poem, bat it must be left to the industry or cu- 
 riosity of tue reader to discover the scriptural allusious where they 
 are so iiunaerous hs in the present instance. 
 
BOOK VH. 171 
 
 Into the clouds ; their tops ascend the sky: 
 
 So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low 
 
 Down sunk, a hollow bottom broad and deep, 
 
 Capacious bed of waters : thither they 290 
 
 Hasted with g^lad precipitance, uproU'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 295 
 
 Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard) 
 
 Troop to their standard, so the wat'ry throng, 
 
 Wave rolling after wave, where way they found ; 
 
 If steep, with torrent rapture ; if through plain, 
 
 Soft-ebbing : nor withstood them rock or hill, 300 
 
 But they, or under ground, or circuit wide 
 
 With serpent error wand'ring, found their way. 
 
 And on the washy oose deep channels wore ; 
 
 Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, 
 
 All but within those banks, where rivers now 305 
 
 Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. 
 
 The dry land. Earth, and the great receptacle 
 
 Of congregated waters ho call'd Seas : 
 
 And saw that it was good, and said. Let th' earth 
 
 Put forth the verdant grass, herb yieldiiig seed, 310 
 
 And ft-uit-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, unadoi*n'd. 
 
 Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad, 
 
 Her universal face with pleasant green; 316 
 
 Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flowVd 
 
 Opening their various colours, and made gay 
 
 Her bosom smelling sweet: and these scarce blown, 
 
 Forth flourish'd thick the clust'ring vine, forth crept 
 
 The smelling gourd, upstood the corny reed 321 
 
 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 
 
 3*21. Snielling has been susr-^ested, and most probably correctly. 
 323. Hair, coma is the saixie in Latin, small leaves, twigs, &c. 
 tmplicit, entangled. 
 325. Gemm'^df from gemmare, to put torth blossoms. 
 
172 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Their blossoms : with high woods the hills were 
 
 crown'd 326 
 
 With tutts the valleys, and each fountain side, 
 With borders long the rivers : that earth now 
 Seem'd like to Heav'n, a seat Avhere Gods mig-ht 
 
 dwell, 
 Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 330 
 
 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 335 
 God made, and ev'ry 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 340 
 
 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. 345 
 
 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 350 
 
 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 framed, unlightsome first, 356 
 Though of ethereal mould : then form'd the moon 
 Globose, and ev'ry magnitude of stars, 
 And sow'd with stai's the Heav'n thick, as a field : 
 Of light by far the greater part he took. 
 Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed 300 
 In tlie sun's orb, made porous to receive 
 And drink the liquid light, firm to retain 
 Her gather'd beatns, great palace now of light. 
 Hither, as to their fountain, other stars 
 Repairing, in their golden urns draw light, 365 
 
 And hence the morning planet gilds her horns j 
 
BOOK VII. 173 
 
 By tincture or reflection they augment 
 
 Their small peculiar, thouj^h for human sight 
 
 So far remote, with diminution seen. 
 
 First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, 3*^0 
 
 Regent of day, and all tk' horizon round 
 
 Invested with bright rays, jocund to run 
 
 His longitude through Heav'n's high road. The grey 
 
 Dawn and the Pleiades before him danced. 
 
 Shedding sweet influence. Less bright the moon. 
 
 Bat opposite in levell'd west was set 376 
 
 His mirror, with fall 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, 380 
 
 Revolved on Heav'n's great axle ; and her reign 
 
 With thousand lesser lights dividual holds. 
 
 With thousand thousand stars, that tlien appear'd 
 
 Spangling the hemisphere. Then first adorn'd 
 
 With her bright luminaries that set and rose, 385 
 
 Glad ev'ning and glad morn crown'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 
 Bisplay'd on th' open firmament of Heav'n. 390 
 
 And God created the great whales, and each 
 Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously 
 The waters generated by their kinds. 
 And ev'ry bird of wing after his kind ; 
 And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying, 
 Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas, 396 
 
 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 shoals 400 
 
 Of fish that with their fins and shining scales 
 Glide under the green wave, in sculls 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 with quick glance, 405 
 Shew to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold. 
 Or in their pearly shells at ease, attend 
 
 373. For longilndc Bentley reads his long career. 
 402. Sculls, II Saxon word, signifying an assembly. 
 
I7i PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food 
 
 In jointed armour watch. On smooth the seal, 
 
 And bended dolphins play : part huge of bulk 410 
 
 Wallowing unwieldy', enormous in their gait. 
 
 Tempest the ocean : there leviathan, 
 
 Hug-est of living- creatures, on the deep 
 
 Stretch'd like a promontory, sleeps or swims. 
 
 And seems a moYing land, and at his gills 415 
 
 Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea. 
 
 Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shoreis 
 
 Their brood as num'rous hatch, from th' egg that soon 
 
 Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclosed 
 
 Their callow young, but feather'd soon and fledge 420 
 
 They summ'd their pens, and soaring th' air sublime, 
 
 With clang despised 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 425 
 
 In common, ranged in figiire, wedge their way. 
 
 Intelligent of seasons, and set forth 
 
 Their aery caravan high over seas 
 
 Flying, and over lands^ with mutual wing. 
 
 Easing- their flight ; so steers the prudent crane 430 
 
 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 
 
 Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings 
 
 Till ev'n, nor then the solemn nightingale 435 
 
 Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays : 
 
 Other? on silver Lilies and rivers bathed 
 
 Their dovi^ny breast. The swan with arched neck 
 
 Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows 
 
 Her state with oary feet ; yet oft they quit ■C'K) 
 
 The dank, and rising on stiff pennons, tow'r 
 
 The mid aereal sky : othei-s on ground 
 
 Walk'd flrm;\the crested cock, whose clarion sounds 
 
 The silent hours,^nd th' other whose gay train 
 
 Adorns him, coloured with the florid hue 445 
 
 410. Bended, hecdinse so appearing' -"Ahen sporting in the sea. 
 
 421. Pens, from tlie Lntiii penna, a feather. Siimin'dy a term 
 in falconry, meaning- full sirown. 
 
 423. job xxxix. 27, 28. 
 
 435. Milton's fondness for the nightingale is remarkablj fihewn 
 la his repeated allusions to that bird. 
 
BOOK Y [I. 175 
 
 Of rainbows and starry* eyes. Tlie waters thiis 
 With iish reple«iiish'd, and the air with fowl 
 Ev'ning and morn solemnized the fifth day. 
 
 The sixth, and of creation last, arose 
 With ev'ning harps and matin, when God said, 450 
 Let th' earth bring forth soul-liking' 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 
 Innum'rons living creatures, perfect forms, 455 
 
 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 : 460 
 Those rare and solitary, these in flocks, 
 Past'ring at once, and in broad herds upsprung. 
 The grassy clods now calved ; now half appear'd 
 The tawny lion, pawing to get free 464 
 
 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 hillocs : the swift stag from under ground 469 
 Bore up his branching head ; scarce from his mould 
 Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved 
 His vastness ; fleeced 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, 475 
 Insect or worm : those waved their limber fans 
 For wings, and smallest lineaments exact 
 In all the liveries deok'd of summer's pride. 
 With spots of gold and purple', azure and green : 
 These as a line their long dimension drew, 480 
 
 Streaking the ground with sinuous trace ; not all 
 Minims of nature ; some of serpent kind. 
 Wondrous in length and corpulence, involved 
 Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept 
 
 467. The libbard, the leopard, the word is used by Spensei 
 and others, 
 
 471. The Behetnolh is supposed by Bochart to be the river- 
 hone. 482. Minims, from the Latin Minima, 
 
 N 
 
176 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The parsimonious emmet, provident 485 
 
 Of future, in small room large heart inclosed^ 
 Pattern of just equality perhaps 
 Hereafter, join'd in her popular tribes 
 Of commonalty : swarming- next appear'd 
 The female bee, that feeds her husband drone 490 
 Deliciovisly, and builds her waxen cells 
 With honey stored. The rest are numberless, 
 And thou thslj:. najt^xg3j^Jioyir'§.t, and gav'st theni 
 Needless to thee repeated; nor unknown [names 
 The serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, 495 
 
 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 
 Her motions, as the great first Mover's hand 500 
 First wheel'd their course ; earth in her rich attire 
 Consummate lovely smiled ; air, water, earth, 
 By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walk'd 
 Frequent; and of the sixth day yet remain 'd; 
 There Avanted yet the master-work, the end 505 
 
 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 519 
 Magnanimous to con-espond with Heav'n, 
 But gTateful 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 515 
 Of all his works. Therefore th' Omnipotent 
 Eternal 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 520 
 
 Over the fish and fowl of sea and air. 
 Beast of the field, and over all the earth, 
 And ev'ry creeping thing that creeps the ground. 
 This said, he form'd thee, Adam, thee, O Man, 
 Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breathed 525 
 
 497. Vjrg-il describes the serpent as tianng a inaner 
 
BOOK VII. 177 
 
 The breath of life : in his own image he 
 
 Created thee, in the image of God 
 
 Express ; uiid thou becara'st a living soul. 
 
 Male he created thee, but thy consdrt 
 
 Female for race ; then bless'd mankind, and said, 
 
 Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth, 531 
 
 Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold 
 
 Over fish of the sea, and fowl of th' air. 
 
 And ev'ry living' thing that moves on th' earth. 
 
 Wherever thus created, for no place 535 
 
 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 540 
 
 Gave thee ; all sorts are here that all th' earth yields. 
 
 Variety without end ; but of the tree, 
 
 Which, tasted, works knowle-dge of good and evil, 
 
 Thou may'st not; in the day thou eat'st, thou dy'st ; 
 
 Death is the penalty imposed ; beware, 545 
 
 And govern well thy appetite, lest Sin 
 
 Sui-prise 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 even and morn accomplish'd the sixth day : 550 
 Yet not till the Creator from his work 
 Desisting, though unweary'd, 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, hov/ it shew'd 555 
 
 [n prospect from his throne, how good, how fair, 
 Answ'ring his great idea. Up he rode, 
 FoUow'd with acclamation, and the sound 
 Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that tuned 
 Angelic harmonies. The earth, the air 560 
 
 ResoTinded (thou remember'st, for thou heard'st) ; 
 The Heav'ns, and all the constellations rung ; 
 The planets in their station list'ning stood. 
 While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 
 
 563. The word station is a scientific term, and signifies tlse 
 place of a planet when it appears at rest in its orbit. 
 12 
 
1T8 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Open, ye everlasting gates, they sung ; 565 
 
 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 570 
 
 Delighted, and with frequent intercourse 
 
 Thither will send his winged messengers 
 
 On errands of supernal grace. So sung 
 
 The glorious train as-cending. He through Hea'v'n, 
 
 That open'd Avide her blazing portals, led 57^ 
 
 To God's eternal house direct the Avay : 
 
 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 580 
 
 Powder'd with stars. And now on earth the seventa 
 
 Ev'ning arose in Eden, tor 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 585 
 
 Of Godhead, fix'd for ever firm a7id sure. 
 
 The Filial Pow'r arrived, and sat him down 
 
 Wnh his great Father (for he also went 
 
 Invisible) yet stay'd (such privilege 
 
 Hath Omnipresence) and the work ordain'd 590 
 
 Author and End of all things, and from work 
 
 Now resting, bless'd and hallov/'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, 595 
 
 And dulcimer, all organs of svveet 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. 600 
 
 Creation and the six days' acts they sung: 
 
 Great are thy works, Jehovah ! infinite 
 
 565. Ps. xxiv. 7. which was suns: when the ark was carried into 
 the «anctu;iry of the temple on Mount Sion. 
 
 581. There is a similar expression in Chaucer. 
 
 597. The divisions on the Answer board of a violin are called 
 frets, 599- Hev. viii. 3, 4. 
 
BOOK VII. 179 
 
 Thy pow'r! What thought can measure thee, or 
 
 tong-ue 
 Relate thee ! Greater now in thy return 
 Than from the giant Angels ! thee that day 605 
 
 Thy thunders magnify'd ! but to create. 
 Is greater than created to destroy. 
 Who can impair thee, mighty King, or hound 
 Thy empire I Easily the proud attempt 
 Of Spirits apostate and their counsels vain 610 
 
 Thou hast repell'd, while impiously they thought 
 Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw 
 The number of thy v/orshippers. Who seeks 
 To lessen thee, against his pui-pose serves 
 To manifest the naore thy might: his evil 6J6 
 
 Thou usest, 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 620 
 
 Num'rous, and ev'ry star perhaps a world 
 Of destined habitation; but thou know'st 
 Their seasons : among these the seat of Men, 
 Earth with her nether ocean circumfused, 624 
 
 Their pleasant dwelling-place. Thrice happy Men, 
 And sons of Men, whom God hath thus advanced. 
 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 630 
 
 Holy and just ! thrice happy if they know 
 Their happiness, and persevere upright ! 
 So sung they, and the empyrean rung 
 With Halleluiahs. Thus was Sabbath kept. 
 And thy request think nov^r fulfill'd, that ask'd 6cS 
 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 
 Aught, not surpassing human measure, say. 640 
 
 605. Giant, not in alhision to their stature it is supposed, but 
 to their pride and fierceness. 
 
 624. Nelher, to distinguish it from the water? above the firma- 
 ment. 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Adam inquires concerning celestial motions; is doubtfully an- 
 rwered, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of 
 knowledg-e: Adam assents : and, still desirous to detain Raphael, 
 relates to him what he renembered 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, de- 
 parts. 
 
 The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear 
 So charming left his voice, that he awhile 
 Thought him still speaking", still stood iix'd to hear ; 
 Then, as new waked, thus gratefully reply'd : 
 
 What thanks sufficient, or what recompense 5 
 
 Equal have I to render thee, divine 
 Historian, who thus largely hast all ay 'd 
 The thirst I had or knowledge, and vouchsafed 
 This friendly condescension to relate 
 Tilings else by me unsearchable, now heard 10 
 
 With wonder, but delight, and, as is due^ 
 With glory attributed to the High 
 Creator 1 Something yet of doubt remains, 
 Which only thy solution can resolve. 
 When I behold this goodly frame, this world, 15 
 
 Of Heav'n and Earth consisting, and compute 
 Their magnitudes ; this earth, a spot, a grain. 
 An atom, with the firmament compared 
 And all her number'd stars, that seem to roll 
 Spaces incomprehensible (for such 20 
 
 Their distance argues, and their swift return 
 Diurnal) merely to officiate light 
 Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot, 
 One day and night, in all their vast survey 
 
 15. Allusion is made in the following- part of the discourse be 
 'ween Raphael and Adam, to the two most celebrated systems of 
 astronomy, those of Ptolemy and Copernicus : the difference in 
 which was, that the former" made the earth, the latter the sun, 
 the centre of the universe. Adam speaks in allusion to the 
 Ptolemaic system, and the Angel answers by detailing the usual 
 explanations forme.rlv given o( the difficulties alleg-ed. 
 19.' Numbered, Ps. cxlvii. 4. 
 
BOOK YIII. ISl 
 
 Useless besides ; reasoning I oft a^vaire 25 
 
 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 aught appears, and on their orbs impoaa 30 
 
 Such restless revolution, day by day 
 
 Repeated, while the sedentary earth, 
 
 That better might with far less compass more, 
 
 Served by more noble than herself, attains 
 
 Her end without least motion, and receives 35 
 
 As tribute, such a sumless journey brought 
 
 Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light ; 
 
 Speed, to describe whose sv/iftness 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 retired in signt, 41 
 
 With lowliness majestic from her seat, 
 And grace that won who sav/ to wish her stay. 
 Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flow'rs. 
 To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom, 45 
 
 Her nursei'y : they at her coming sprung. 
 And, touch'd by her fair tendence, gladiier grew. 
 Yet went she not, as not with such discourse 
 Delighted, or not capable her ear 
 Of what was high: such pleasure she reserved, 50 
 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 digressions, and solve high dispute 55 
 
 With conjugal caresses ; from his lip 
 Not words alone pleased her. O Avhen meet now 
 Such pairs, in loA^e and mutual honour join'd! 
 With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went. 
 Not unattended, for on her, as queen, 60 
 
 A pomp of winning graces waited still. 
 And from about lu^r shot darts of desire 
 Into all eyes to wish her still in sight. 
 And Raphael, now to Adam's doubt proposed. 
 Benevolent and facile, thus reply'd: 65 
 
 To ask or search I blame thee not ; for HeaY*n 
 Is «i» the book of God before thee seta 
 
 
182 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 (^Wherein to read his wondrous works, and lear^^ 
 His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years. 
 This to attain, whether Heav'n move or Earth, 76 
 Imports not, if thou reckon right : the rest 
 From Man or Angel the Great Architect 
 Did wisely to conceal, and not divulg-e 
 His secrets, to be scann'd by them who ought 
 Rather admire : or if they list to try 75 
 
 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 Mill wield 80 
 
 The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive 
 To save appearances, how gird the sphere 
 With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er, 
 Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb. 
 
 Already by thy reasoning this I guess, 85 
 
 Who art to lead thy oifspring, 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 90 
 
 Or bright inf^ not excellence : the earth, 
 Though, in comparison of Heav'n, so small, 
 Nor glist'ring, may of solid good contain x 
 
 More plenty than the sun that barren shineSji 
 Whose virtue on itself works no effect, .^e**^ 95 
 But in the fruitful earth ; there first received 
 His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. 
 Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries 
 Officious, but to thee earth's habitant. 
 And for the Heav'n's wide circuit, let it speak 100 
 The Maker's high magnificence, Avho built 
 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. 
 Lodged in a small partition, and the rest 105 
 
 80. Calctdate, to observe scientifically. 
 83. Centric, or concentric, are spheres whose centre is the same 
 with that of the earth. — Eccentric are the contrary. — Cycle is a 
 circle, and Epicycle a circle upon a circle. They are terms in- 
 vented by the Ptoleraaics, and used in explaining their system. 
 102. Job xxviii. 5. 
 
BOOK VIII. 183 
 
 Ordain'd for usts to his Loi'd l»est known. 
 
 The swiftness of those circles attribute. 
 
 Though numberless, to his omnipotence. 
 
 That to corporeal substances could add J )fi 
 
 Speed almost spiritual. IVIe thou think'st not slow. 
 
 Who since the morning'-houi' set out from Heav'n, 
 
 Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived 
 
 In Eden, distance inexpressible 
 
 By numbers that have name. But this I urge. 
 
 Admitting- motion in the Heav'ns, to ^hew 115 
 
 Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved ; 
 
 Not that I so affirm, tliough so it seem 
 
 To thee who hast thy dv/elling here on earth. 
 
 God, to remove his ways from human sense, 
 
 Placed Heav'n from Earth so far, that earthly sight, 
 
 If it presume, might err in things too high, 121 
 
 And no advantage gain. What if the sun 
 
 Be centi'e to the world, and other stars, 
 
 By his attractive virtue and their own 
 
 Incited, dance about him various rounds? 125 
 
 Their wand'ring course now high, now Ioav, then hid, 
 
 Progressive, reti'ograde, or standing still, 
 
 In six thou seest, and what if sev'nth to these 
 
 The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem, 
 
 Insensibly three diff'rent motions move ? 130 
 
 Which else to sev'ral spheres thou must asciibe. 
 
 Moved contrary with thwart obliquities, 
 
 Or save the sun his labour, and that swift 
 
 Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb, supposed, 
 
 Invisible else above all stars, the wheel 135 
 
 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, 140 
 
 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 1 reciprocal, if land be there. 
 
 Fields and inhabitants. Her spots thou seest 145 
 
 122. The Copernican system is now mentioned. 
 134. Diurnal rhomb, explained in the next Jine, as, the wheel 
 of dav and night 
 
184 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 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(h their attendant moons thou wilt descry, 
 Communicating male and female light, 150 
 
 Which two great sexes animate the world. 
 Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live. 
 For such vast room in nature un possess 'd 
 By living" soul, desert and desolate, 
 Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 155 
 
 Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far 
 Down to this habitable, which returns 
 Lig-ht back to them, is obvioiis to dispute. 
 But whether thus these things, or whether not ; 
 Whether the sun predominant in Heav'n 160 
 
 Rise on the earth, or earth rise on the sun, 
 He from the east his iiaming- road begin, 
 /Or she from west her silent course advance 
 I With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps 
 On her soft axle, while she paces even, 165 
 
 And bears thee soft with the smooth air along, 
 / Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid ; j 
 \|.4eave them to God above) him serve and fear I 
 Of other creatures, as him pleases best. 
 Wherever placed, let him dispose : joy thou 170 
 
 In wliat 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 173 
 Live, in what state, condition, or degree, 
 Contented that thus far hath been reveal 'd 
 Not of Earth only, but of highest Heav'n. 
 
 To whon> thus Adam, clear'd of doubt, reply 'd : 
 How fully hast thou satisfj^'d me, pure 180 
 
 Intelligence of Heav'n, Angel serene. 
 And freed from intricacies, taught to live, 
 Tlie easiest way ; nor with perplexing thoughts 
 To interrupt the sweet of life, from which 
 
 150. The conceit in this line is very old, the sun being said to 
 coniraunicate male, the moon female'lii^ht. 
 
 158. Novght, or like, is proposed instead of lighl in this verse, 
 but the reasons alleged are hardly sufficient to authorize the 
 change. 
 
BOOK vin. 
 
 385 
 185 
 
 God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, 
 And not molest us, unless we ourselves 
 Seek them with wand'ring' thoughts, and notion? 
 But apt the mind or fancy is to rove [vain 
 
 Uncheck'd, and of her roving" is no end ; 
 Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learn, 190 
 That not to know at large of things remote 
 From use, obscui*e 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, 165 
 
 And renders us in things that most concern 
 Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek- 
 Therefore from this high pitch let ns descend 
 A lower flight, and speak of things at hand 
 Useful, whence haply mention may arise 200 
 
 Of something not unseasonable to ask 
 By suff'rance, and thy wonted favour deign'd. 
 Thee I have heard relating what\vas done 
 Ere my remembrance : now hear me I'elate 
 My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard; 205 
 And day is yet not spent ; till then thou seest 
 How subtly to detain thee I devise, 
 Inviting- thee to hear while I relate, 
 Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply : 
 For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heav'n ; 210 
 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. 216 
 
 To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek : 
 Nor are thy lips ungraceful. Sire of men. 
 Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee 
 Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd 220 
 
 Inward and outward both, his image fair: 
 Speaking or mute, all comeliness and grace 
 
 204. There are few passasres in the poem which will be read 
 with more pieasiiiij;- sensations, than the relation Adam g-ives of 
 his first sensations on his becoiiiini,'' conscious of existence. The 
 •ame idea of describino- a iiuman beintr wakeninjac into life in t)ie 
 fiili maturity of i:is powers, has been made the subject of a beau- 
 tiful little piece ir Buffon. 
 
ISb PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Attends tliee, and each word, eacli motion forms : 
 
 Nor less think we in Heav'n of thee on Earth 
 
 Than of our fellow-servant, and inquire 225 
 
 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 voyag-e uncouth and obscure, 230 
 
 Far on excursion tow'rd the gates of Hell ; 
 
 Squared in full leg-ion (such command we had) 
 
 To see that none thence issued forth a spy, 
 
 Or enemy, while God was in his v*'ork. 
 
 Lest he, incensed at such eruption bold, 235 
 
 Destruction with ci"eation 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 ; 241 
 
 But long ere our approaching, heard within 
 
 Noise, other than the sound of dance or song ; 
 
 Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. 
 
 Glad we i-eturn'd up to the coasts of light 245 
 
 Ere Sabbath ev'ning: so we had in charge. 
 
 But thy relation now ; for I attend. 
 
 Pleased with thy words, no less than thou with mine. 
 
 So spake the God-like Pow'r, and thus our sire : 
 For Man to tell how human life began 250 
 
 Is hard; for who himself beginning knew? 
 Desire with thee still longer to converse 
 Induced me. As new waked from soundest sleep, 
 Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid 
 In balmy sv,7eat, which with his beams the sun 255 
 Soon dry'd, and on the reeking moisture fed. 
 Straight toward Heav'n ray wond'ring eyes I turn'd, 
 And gazed a while the ample sky, till raised 
 By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, 
 As thitherward endeav'ring, and upright 260 
 
 Stood on my feet. About me round I saw 
 Hill, dale, andi shady woods, and sunny plains, 
 
 223. So the an^el addresses John, Rev. xxii. 9. 
 229. The absence of Raphaei was invented to g^ive Adam a fit 
 reason for his narrative. 240. Virgil, A'.n. vi. 557. 
 
BOOK VII L 187 
 
 ■ And liquid lapse of raurm'ring streams ; by these, 
 i Creatures that lived, and moved, and walk'd,or flew: 
 Birds on the branches warbling-: all things smiled; 
 With fragrance and with joy my heart fc'ei-ftow'd. 
 Myself I then perused, and limb by limb 
 Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran 
 With supple joints, as lively vigour led : 
 Biit who I was, or where, or from what cause, 270 
 Knew not. To speak I try'd, and forthwith spake ; 
 My tongue obey'd, and readily could name 
 Whate'er I saw. Thou Sun, said I, fair light, 
 And thou enlighten'd Earth, so fresh and g-ay ; 
 / Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods, and Plains, 
 ' And ye that live and move, fair Creatures, tell, 276 
 Tell if ye saw, how came I thus 'I hov/ here 1 
 Not of myself : by some great Maker then, 
 hi goodness and in pow'r pre-eminent ! 
 Tell me, how may I know him, how adore, 280 
 
 From whom I have that thus I move and live. 
 And feel that 1 am happier than I know. 
 While thus I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither, 
 From where I first drew air, and first beheld 
 This happy light, when answer none retiirn'd, 285 
 On a green shady bank profuse of flow'rs. 
 Pensive I sat me down ; there gentle sleep 
 First found me, and with soft oppression seized 
 My droused sense, untroubled, though I thought 
 I then was passing to my former state 290 
 
 Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve : 
 (When suddenly stood at my head a dream, ^ 
 Whose inward apparition gently moved 
 My fancy to believe I yet had being, 294 
 
 And lived. One came, methought, of shape divine. 
 And said. Thy mansion wants thee Adam ; rise. 
 First man, of men innumerable ordain'd 
 B'irst Father ; call'd by thee, I come thy guide 
 
 266. Wiih fragrance, with a joy like that of nature in spring 
 time. 
 
 272. There is no contradiction between thts line and line 352, 
 &c. as Warburton asserts: Adam was able to name things generally, 
 that is, according to their several kinds of being, as soon as he 
 beheld them, but it was by a more immediate inspiration, Milton 
 intimates, that he was taught to give names to the several speciea 
 of animals, tkc. 
 
188 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To the garden of bliss, thy seat i>repared. 
 
 So saying-, by the hand he took me raised, SOC 
 
 And OYer 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, inclosed, with g-oodliest trees 301 
 
 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 waked, and found 
 
 Before mine eyes all real, as the dream 310 
 
 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 315 
 
 Submiss : he rear'd me', and Whom thou sought'st 
 
 Said mildly ; Author of all this thou seest [I am, 
 
 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. 320 
 
 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, 325 
 
 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 ; 330 
 
 From that day mortal, and this happy state 
 
 Shalt lose ; expell'd from hence into a world 
 
 Of woe and sorrow. Sternly he pronounced 
 
 The rigid interdiction, Avhich resounds 
 
 Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice 335 
 
 300. Gen. iii. 15. It is supposed by a sreat number ofconimen 
 tators that Adam was not formed in Paradise, but in some othe. 
 part of the earth, without the inciosure of the sacred garden, into 
 which he was carried by God after his creation. 
 
 i'20. To nil ; to cultivate in any way which the nature of a 
 
 country, or its productions, may require. 
 
 330. Gen. i . 17. 
 
BOOK VIII. 189 
 
 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, 340 
 
 Or live in sea, or air ; beast, fish, and fowl. 
 In sign whereof each bird and beast behold 
 After their kinds : I bring them to receive 
 From thee their names, and pay thee fealty 
 With low subjection. Understand the same 345 
 
 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 350 
 With blandishment, each bird stoop'd on his wing. 
 I named them as they pass'd, and understood 
 Their nature ; with such knowledge God indued 
 My sudden apprehension : but in these 
 I found not what methought I wanted still , 355 
 
 And to the heav'nly Vision thus presumed : 
 
 O by what name, for thou above all these, 
 Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher, 
 Surpassest far my naming, how may I 
 Adore thee, Author of this universe, 300 
 
 And all this good to man I for whose well being 
 So amply, and with hands so liberal 
 Thou hast provided all things ! but with me 
 I see not vvho partakes. In solitude 
 V/hat happiness? Who can enjoy alone, 365 
 
 Or all enjoying-, what contentment find ? 
 Thus I presumptuous ; and the Vision bright. 
 As with a smiie more brighten'd, thus reply'd : 
 
 What call'st thou solitude '? Is not the earth 
 With various living creatures, and the air 370 
 
 Replenish'd ? and all these at thy command 
 To come and play before thee 1 Know'st thou not 
 Their language and their ways? They also know, 
 And I'eason not contemptibly. With these 
 Find pastime, and bear rule ; thy realm is large. 
 So spake the Universal Lord, and seem'd 376 
 
 So ordering. I, with leave of speech implored, 
 342. Gen. ii. 19, 20. 
 
190 PABADISE LOST 
 
 And liumWe deprecation, thus reply 'd: 
 
 Let not my words offend thee, Heav'nly PoTP'r! 
 My Maker, be propitious while I speak! 380 
 
 Hast thou not made me here thy substitute. 
 And these inferior far beneath me set ? 
 Atnong- unequals what society 
 Can sort? what harmony or true delight? 
 Which must be mutual, in proportion due 3S5 
 
 Giv'n and received; but in disparity. 
 The one intense, the other still remiss 
 Cannot Avell suit with either, but soon prove 
 Tedious alike : Of fellowship 1 s^eak 
 Such as I seek, fit to participate 390 
 
 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 combined ; 
 Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl 395 
 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 displeased : 
 A nice and subtle happiness I see 
 Thou to thyself propose st in the choice 400 
 
 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 405 
 
 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 
 To me inferior ! infinite descents 410 
 
 Beneath what other creatures are to thee. 
 He ceased ; I lowly answer'd : To attain 
 The height and depth of thy eternal ways, 
 All human thoughs come short, Supreme of thing's ! 
 Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thee 415 
 
 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 
 413. Rora. xi, 33. 
 
BOOK VIII 19i 
 
 Should'st propagate, already infinite, 420 
 
 And throug-li all numbers absolute, though one i 
 
 But Man by number is to manifest 
 
 His single imperfection, and beget 
 
 Like of his like, his image multiply 'd 
 
 In unity defective, which requires 425 
 
 Collat'ral love, and dearest amity. 
 
 Thou in thy secrecy, although alone. 
 
 Best with thyself accompany 'd, seek'st not 
 
 Social communication ; yet so pleased. 
 
 Canst raise thy creature to what height thou wilt 430 
 
 Of union or communion, deify'd : 
 
 I by conversing cannot these erect 
 
 From pi'one, nor in their ways complacence find. 
 
 Thus 1 embolden'd spake, and freedom used 
 
 Permissive, and acceptance found; which gain'd 435 
 
 This answer from the gracious voice divine : 
 
 Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased ; 
 And find thee knowing not of beasts alone. 
 Which thou hast rightly named, biit of thyself; 
 Expressing well the spirit within thee free, 440 
 
 My image not imparted to the brute. 
 Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee. 
 Good reason was thou freely should'st dislike : 
 And be so minded still. I, ere thou spak'st, 
 Knew it not good for Man to be alone; 445 
 
 And no such company as then thou saw'st 
 Intended thee ; for trial only brought. 
 To see how thou could st judge of fit and meet. 
 What next I bring* shall please thee, be assured ; 
 Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 450 
 
 Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desii'e. 
 
 He ended, or I heard no more, for now 
 My earthly by his heav'nly overpower'd. 
 Which it had long stood under, strain 'd to th' highth 
 In that celestial colloquy sublime, 455 
 
 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 closed mine eyes. 
 Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell 460 
 
 421. And throri^hf Iscc. perfect, complete in all its parts. 
 453. A beautiful idea to express the cause of Ailarn'g deep SiCep. 
 
 o 
 
192 PARADISE LfJST. 
 
 Of fancy, my internal sight; by Avhich 
 
 Abstract, as in a trance, methought I saw, 
 
 Though sleeping-, where I lay, and saw the shape 
 
 Still g-lorious before whom awake I stood; 
 
 Who, stooping-, open'd my left side, and took 405 
 
 From thence a rib, with cordial spii-its v^arra, 
 
 And life-blood streaming- fresh ; wide was the wound ; 
 
 B-at suddenly with flesh iill'd up, and heal'd, 
 
 The rib he form'd and fashion'd with his hands: 
 
 Under his forming- hands a creatui-e grew, 470 
 
 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 infused 
 
 Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before ; 475 
 
 And into all things from her air inspired 
 
 The spirit of love and amorous delight. 
 
 She disappear'd, and left me dark. I waked 
 
 To find her, or for ever to deplore 
 
 Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure : 480 
 
 When, oat of hope, behold her, not far off, 
 
 S-ach as I saw her in my dream, adorn'd 
 
 With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow 
 
 To make her amiable! On she came, 
 
 Led by her Heav'nly Maker, though unseen 485 
 
 Aiid guided by his voice ; nor uninform'd 
 
 Of nuptial sanctity and marriag-e rites. 
 
 Grace was in all her steps ! Heav'n in her eye ! 
 
 In ev'ry gesture dignity and love J 
 
 I overjoy'd, could not forbear aloud: 400 
 
 This turn hath made amends ! Thou hast fulfill'd 
 Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign. 
 Giver of all things fair, but fairest this 
 Of all thy gifts, norenviest! T now see 
 Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself 495 
 
 Before me ! Woman is her name ; of Man 
 Extracted. For this cause he shall forego 
 Father and mother, and to' his wife adhere : 
 And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul. 
 
 She heard me thus ; and tho' divinely brought^ 500 
 
 4G2. Ahstract ; that is, the spirit was so separated from the 
 (lody tliat it did not see things as before with its material orjjans 
 ef vision. 
 
 485. Gen. ii. 22. 198. Gen. xxui. 24. 
 
BOOK VIII. 193 
 
 Yet iimocenoe and virgin modesty. 
 
 Her virtue, and tlie conscience of her worth, 
 
 That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won, 
 
 Not obvious, no't obtrusive, but retired, 
 
 Tlie more desii:able ; or to say all, 505 
 
 Nature hers%lf, though pure of sinful thought. 
 
 Wrought in her so, that seeing me, she turn'd. 
 
 1 foUow'd her : she what was honour knew, 
 
 A.nd with obsequious majesty approved 
 
 My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower 510 
 
 I led her, blushing like the morn. All Heav'n, 
 
 And happy constellations on that hour 
 
 Shed their selectest influence 1 The earth 
 
 v]Iave sign of gratulation, and each hill ! 
 
 Joyous the birds ; fresh gales and gentle airs 515 
 
 Wliisper'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 ev'ning star 
 
 On his hill-top, to light the bridal lamp. 520 
 
 Thus have I told thee all my state, and brought 
 My story to the sum of earthly bliss 
 Which 1 enjoy ; and must confess to find 
 In all things else delight indeed, but such 
 As used or not, works in the mind no change, 525 
 Nor vehement desire ; these delicacies 
 I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flow'rs, 
 Walks, and the melody of birds ; but here 
 Far otherwise, transported I behold. 
 Transported touch. Here passion first I felt, 530 
 
 Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else 
 Superior and unmoved ; 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 ; 535 
 
 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. 
 
 502. The conscience ; the knowledge of. 
 
 513. Taken from Homer, 11. xiv. 347. 
 
 520. It was the custom of the ancients to light their bridal laaip; 
 
 when the evening- star apoeared. 
 
 K 
 
194 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 For well I understand, in the priisie end 540 
 
 Of nature, her th' inferior m the mind 
 
 And inward faculties^ which most excel 
 
 In outward ; also her resembling less 
 
 His image who made both, and less ez^Dressing 
 
 The character of that dominion g-iv'n 545 
 
 O'er other creatures ; yet, when I approach 
 
 Her loveliness, so absolute she seems. 
 
 And in herself, complete ; so well to knov/ 
 
 Her own, that what she wills to do or say. 
 
 Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best ! 550 
 
 All higher knov/ledge in her presence falls 
 
 Degraded! Wisdom in discourse with her 
 
 Loses, discount'nanced, and like folly shews. 
 
 Authority and reason on her wait. 
 
 As one intended first, not after made »i55 
 
 Occasionally ; and to consummate all. 
 
 Greatness of Mmd and Nobleness their seat 
 
 Build in her, loveliest, and create an awe 
 
 About her, as a guard angelic placed! 
 
 To whom the Angel, with contracted brow : 560 
 Accuse not Nature; she hath done her part: 
 Do thou but thine, and be not diffident 
 Of wisdom ; she deserts thee not, if thou 
 Dismiss not her, when most thou need'st her nigh. 
 By attributing overmuch to things 565 
 
 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 hoiiouring, and thy love ; 
 Not thy subjection. Weigh with her thyself, 570 
 Then value. Oft-times nothing profits more 
 Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right 
 Well managed. Of that skill the more thou know'st. 
 The more she will acknowledge thee her head, 
 And to realities yield all her shows ; 575 
 
 Made so adorn for thy delight the more. 
 So awful, that with honour thou may'st love 
 Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise. 
 
 547. Absolute ; complete, as used in the former instance, line 421. 
 568. Eph. V. 28, 29. 
 
 576. Adorn, for adorn'd,to avoid the inharmonions sound of the 
 iatter with the word made.— It is thus used, zs/ledge tor fledged^ 
 and comes from the Italian adjective adorno. 
 
BOOK VIII. 195 
 
 Rut if the sense of touch, whereby rnankmd 
 
 In propag-ated, seem such dear delight 580 
 
 Beyond all other, think the sarae vouchsafed 
 
 To cattle and each heast ; v/hich would not be 
 
 To them made comm.on and divulged, if aught 
 
 Therein enjoy'd were worthy to subdue 
 
 The soul of man, or passion in him move. 585 
 
 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 590 
 
 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 : 595 
 Neither her outside, form'd so fair, nor aught 
 In procreation, common to all kinds, 
 (Though higher of the genial bed by far. 
 And v/ith mysterious reverence I deem) 
 So much delights me as those graceful acts, COO 
 
 Those thousand decencies, that daily flow 
 From all her words and actions, mix'd with love 
 And sweet compliance ; which declare unfeign'd 
 Union of mind, or in us both one soul: 
 Harmony to behold in wedded pair, 605 
 
 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, 610 
 
 Approve the best, and follow what I approve. 
 To love thou blam'st me not; for love thoTi 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 1 by looks only* 1 or do they mix 616 
 Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch ? 
 
 To Vv'hom the Angel, with a smile that glow'd 
 Celestial rosy red (love's proper hue), 
 
 5S9. it is supposed that Milton E ludesin this passage tc Plato's 
 theory of divine love. 
 
1 96 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Answer'd: Let it suffice thee that thou kiiow'st 620 
 
 Us happy'; and without love no happiness. 
 
 Whatever pure tliou iji the body' eiijoy'st 
 
 (And pure thou wert created) we enjoy 
 
 In eminence, and obstacle liud none 
 
 Of membrane, joint, or limb, exclusive bars. 626 
 
 Easier than air with air, if Spirits embrace, 
 
 Total they mix, union of pure with puj-e 
 
 Desiring ; not restrain'd conveyance need, 
 
 As flesh to mix with flesh, or soul with soul. 
 
 But I can now no more; the parting sun 630 
 
 Beyond the earth's green cape and verdant isles 
 
 Hesperian, sets, my signal to depart. 
 
 Be strong, live liappy', and love, but first of all. 
 
 Him whom to love is to obey, and keep 
 
 His great command : take heed lest passion sway 035 
 
 Thy judgment to do aught which else free will 
 
 Would not admit ; thine and of all thy sons 
 
 The weal or woe in thee is placed ; beware. 
 
 1 in thy persevering shall rejoice; 
 
 And all the Blest- Stand fast ; to stand or fall 610 
 
 Free in thine own arbitrement it lies. 
 
 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, 645 
 
 Go heav'nly Guest, ethereal Messenger, 
 Sent from whose sov 'reign goodness I adore. 
 Gentle to me and affable liath been 
 Thy condescension, and shall be honour'd ever 
 With grateful memory ; thou to mankind 650 
 
 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. 
 
 634. 1 John V. 3. 
 645. Benediction ; not signifying blessing, bat fareivell. 
 658. Uis bower, that is, his inmost bower or Pbce of rest. 
 
BOOK IX. 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, having compassed tlie earth with meditated gnilCf re- 
 turns as a mist by nisrht into Paradise, erfers into the serpent 
 sleepinsr. Adam and Eve in the moruint? g-o forth to their iabours, 
 which tve proposes to divide in several places, each labouring 
 apart: Adam consents not, alleg-ing the dang'er, lest that enemy, 
 of whom they were forewarned, should attempt her, found alone; 
 Eve, loath to' be thousfht not circumspect or firm enoug-h, urg-es 
 her g:oing apart, the rather desirous to make trial of her strength : 
 Adam at last yields: The Serpent finds her alone; his subtle ap 
 proach, first gaziiii,'-, 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 ot knowledge, forbidden: The 
 Serpent, now grown bolder, with many wiles and arg'unseiits, in 
 duces her at lenuth to eat; she, pleased with the taste, delibe- 
 rates a wliile 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, hut perceiving her lost, resolves, through 
 vehemence of love, to perish with her ; and extenuating the tres- 
 pass, eats also of the fruit: The effects tliereof in them both; 
 they seek to cover their nakedness ; then fall to variance and 
 accusation of one another. 
 
 No more of talk where God or Aiig-el guest 
 
 With Man, as with his friend, familiar used 
 
 To sit indulgent, and with him partake 
 
 Rural repast, permitting- him the while 
 
 Venial discourse, unblamed : I noAV must change 5 
 
 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, 1,0 
 
 That brought into this world a world of woe. 
 
 Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery, 
 
 I. Milton has arranged the divisions of his poem with great 
 skill. The reader is by turns filled with awe and delight, astonish- 
 ment and wonder : after havin-g been terror-stricken at the sub- 
 lime account of the fall of the angels, he is charmed and soothed 
 by the description of Paradise, and the sweet discourse of philo- 
 sophy, carried on between Raphael and Adam. A new order of 
 feelings are now to be awakened, and pity, mingled with fear, 
 possesses us through the whole book. 
 
 II. Nothing can" be in worse taste than this and other such 
 puns ; but not a great poet is perhaps to be found, with a taste 
 60 pure, that it could resist altogether the corruptions of the 
 popular one. 
 
108 PAHADISK LOST. 
 
 Death's harbinger. Sad task I yet arg-ument 
 
 Not less bat more heroic than the wrath 
 
 Of stern Achilles on bis foe pursued 15 
 
 Thrice fugitive about Troy wall ; or rage 
 
 Of Tarnus for Lavinia disespoused, 
 
 Or Neptune's ire or Juno's, that so long 
 
 Perplex/d the Greek and Cytherea's son: 
 
 If answerable style I can obtain 20 
 
 Of my celestial patroness, who deigns 
 
 Her nig'htly visitation unimplored, 
 
 And dictates to me slumb'ring-, or inspires 
 
 Easy my unpremeditated verse. 
 
 Since first this subject for }ieroic song 25 
 
 Pleased me long choosing, and beginning late ; 
 
 Not sedulous by nature to indite 
 
 Wars, hitherto the only argument 
 
 Heroic deem'd, chief raast'ry to dissect 
 
 With long and tedious havoc fabled knights 30 
 
 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 ; 35 
 
 Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights 
 
 At joust and tournament ; then marshal'd feast 
 
 Served up in hall with sewers and seneschals ; 
 
 The skill of artifice or office mean, 
 
 Not that which justly gives heroic name 40 
 
 To person or to poem. Me of these 
 
 Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument 
 
 21. The picture of Milton, which here rises to the inind, is 
 among' the most beautiful of the visions to which the poem gives 
 birth. Blind, deserted, but inspired, how like a character in the 
 work does he seem to the imao-ination, while thus speaking of his 
 communion with the heavenly muse. 
 
 26. He had, long before commencing Paradise Lost, or design- 
 ing it even, determined to write an Epic on the subject of King 
 Arthur's history. 
 
 28. Allusion is made in this passage to the principal Epics, the 
 Bubjects of which are almost all drawn from the wars of one 
 coiinlry or the other. The most ardent lover of t!ie classic poems 
 cannot but feel Milton's objection to be correct: ; the only caution 
 to be observed, is, not to mistake his dislike of their subjects for any 
 depreciation of the sublime geniuses which composed them. 
 
 35. Impresses quaint ; witty di'Aicea on the shields — Bases, OT 
 housings. — Setvers, servants who placed the dishes on the table, 
 — Seneschal, a principal servant, or steward. 
 
book: IX. 199 
 
 Remains, sufficient of itself to raise 
 
 That name, unless an age too late, or cold 
 
 Climate, or years, damp my intended wing 45 
 
 Depress'd, and much they may, if ail be mine, 
 
 Nut iiers 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 50 
 
 'Twixt day and night, and now from end to end 
 Night's hemisphere had veil'd th' horizon round, 
 When Satan, Avho late fled before the threats 
 Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improved 
 In meditated fraud and malice, bent 55 
 
 On Man's destruction, maugre what might hap 
 Df heavier on himself, fearless returned. 
 By night he fled, and at midnight returned 
 From compassing the earth, cautious of day, 60 
 
 Since Uriel, regent of the sun, descry'd 
 His entrance, and forewarn'd the Cherubim 
 That kept their watch : thence fall of anguish driven. 
 The space of sev'n continued nights he rode 
 With darkness ; thrice the equinoctial line 
 He circled ; four times cross'd the car of night 65 
 From pole to pole, traversing each coliire ; 
 On th' eighth return'd, and on the coast averse 
 From entrance or Cherubic watch, by stealth 
 Found unsuspected way. There was a place. 
 Now not, tho' sin, not time, first wrought the change. 
 Where Tigris at the foot of Paradise 71 
 
 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 involved in rising mist, then sought 75 
 
 Where to lie hid. Sea he had search'd and land 
 From Eden over Pontus, and the pool 
 Mseotis, up beyond the river Ob ; 
 Downward as far antarctic ; and in length 
 West from Orontes to the ocean barr'd 80 
 
 A.t Darien, thence to the land where flows 
 
 77. PontTis, the Eiixine or Black Sea,— r/?e pool MoBoth, Palua 
 Maeotis, a lake on the coast of Crim Tartary.— 0&, a river of 
 Muscovy. — Orontes, a river of Syria.— Oaricji, the Isthmus which 
 loins North and South America.— Oceaji barred, see Job xxxviii, 19* 
 
200 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Ganges and Indus : thus the orb lie roam'd 
 
 With narrow search, and with inspection deep 
 
 Consider'd every creature ; which of all 
 
 Most opportune mig-ht serve his wiles, and found 85 
 
 The serpent subtlest beast of all the field. 
 
 Him, after long- debate, irresolute 
 
 Of thoughts revolved, his final sentence chose 
 
 Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom 
 
 To enter and his dark sug-gestions hide 90 
 
 From sharpest sig-ht : for in the wily snake, 
 
 Whatever sleights none would suspicious mark, 
 
 As from his wit and native subtlety 
 
 Proceeding', which in other beasts observed 
 
 Doubt might beg'et of diabolic power 95 
 
 Active within beyond the sense of brute. 
 
 Thus he resolved ; but first from inward grief 
 
 His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd : 
 
 O Earth, how like to Heav'n, if not prefen'd 
 More justly! seat worthier of Gods! as built 100 
 
 With second thoughts, reforming what was old ! 
 For what God after better worse would build ! 
 Terrestrial Heav'n, danced round by other Heav'ns 
 That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps. 
 Light above light, for thee alone, as seems, 105 
 
 In thee concentring all their precious beams 
 Of sacred influence ! As God in Heav'n 
 Is centre, yet extends to all, so thou 
 Centring receiv'st from all those orbs ; in thee, 
 Not in themselves, all their known virtue' appears 
 Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth IH 
 
 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, 
 
 86. The subtlety of the serpent has been always noticed. It is 
 supposed, that Satan might choose this aninialin preference to 
 any other, for his purpose, since its subtlety being- known it 
 would excite less surprise in the minds of his victims, to find it 
 fspeaking- and reasoning-, than would ha-ve been ti)e case in respect 
 to any other of the beasts of the field. 
 
 113. It were to be wished that Milton had not so nearly ap- 
 proached in expression the ideas of the materialists. He has 
 been accused of formally supporting their doctrines, but the 
 contents of the poem and the elevation of his sentiments on the 
 mysteries of universal being tend greatly to prove he was by no 
 means an advocate of opinions wliich are as insupportable by 
 reason as they are by Christianity^ 
 
BOOK XI. 201 
 
 If J could joy in auglit, sweel interchange 115 
 
 Of hill and valley, i-ivers, 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 refug-e ; and the more I see 
 Pleasures about me, so much more I feel 120 
 
 Torment within me', as from the hateful siege 
 Of contraries : all g-ood 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 bo myself less miserable 126 
 
 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, 130 
 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 woe ; 
 In woe then, that destruction wide may range. 
 To me shall be the glory sole among 135 
 
 Th' infernal Pow'rs, in one day to have marr'd 
 What he. Almighty styled, six nights and days 
 Continued making, and who knows how long 
 Before had been contriving, though j)erhaps 
 Not longer than since I in one night fi'eed 140 
 
 Froni servitude inglorious well nigh half 
 Th' angelic name, and thinner left the throng* 
 Of his adorers; he to be avenged. 
 And to repair his numbers thus impair'd. 
 Whether such virtue spent of old now fail'd 145 
 
 More Angels to create, if they at least 
 Are his created, or to spite us more. 
 Determined to advance into our room 
 A creature form'd of earth, and him endow, 150 
 
 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 pronounced, and, O indignity ! 
 Subjected to his service Angel wings, 123 
 
 And flaming ministers, to watch and tend 
 
 156. Ps. civ. 4. 
 
202 PARADISTi: LOST. 
 
 Their earthly charge. Of these the rigilance 
 
 I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist 
 
 Of midnight vapour, glide obscure, and pry 
 
 In ev'ry bush and brake, where hap may find 100 
 
 The serpent sleeping-, in whose mazy folds 
 
 To hide me, and the dark intent I bi-ing. 
 
 O foul descent ! that 1, who erst contended 
 
 With Gods to sit the high'st, am now constrain'd 
 
 Into a beast, and mix'd with bestial slime, 105 
 
 This essence to incarnate and imbrute, 
 
 That to the heig-ht of deity aspired ! 
 
 But what will not ambition and revenge 
 
 Descend to 1 Who aspires must down as low 
 
 As high he soar'd, obnoxious first or last 170 
 
 To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet, 
 
 Bitter ere long back on itself recoils. 
 
 Let it : I reck not, so it light Avell aim'd. 
 
 Since higher I fall short, on him who next 
 
 Provokes my envy, this new fuv'rite 175 
 
 Of Heav'n, this man of clay, son of despite. 
 
 Whom us the more to spite his Maker raised 
 
 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 180 
 
 His miduight search, where soonest he might find 
 The serpent : him fast sleeping soon he found, 
 In labyrinth of many a round self roU'd, 
 His head the midst, well stored with subtle wiles : 
 ISor yet in horrid shade or dismal den, 185 
 
 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 inspired 
 With act intelligential ; but his sleep 190 
 
 Distnrb'd not, waiting close th' approach of mom. 
 
 Now when as sacred light began to dawn 
 In Eden on the humid flow'rs,that breathed 
 
 173. The character of Satan is finelv managed in this passage ; 
 the darkness of despair is made nio'rt Jark by t'ne loftiness of 
 thoug-ht and the g-leani of arrh-ungel grandeur still remaining. 
 186. iVo/ nocevtyet, in the first edition. 
 192. This is the morning- of the ninth day. On the first Satan 
 came to the earth ; for seven he was vovas"ini»' round it, and is 
 here represented as entering- Paradise on the ninth. 
 193. Breath, like the Latin ':piro. 
 
BOOK IX. 203 
 
 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 196 
 
 With g-rateful 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 sents and airs ; 200 
 Then commune how that day they hest may ply 
 Their growing work : for much their work outgrew 
 The hands dispatch of two gard'ning so wide : 
 And Eve first to her husband thus began : 
 
 Adam, well may we labour still to dress 205 
 
 This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flow'r. 
 Our pleasant task enjoin'd ; but till more hands 
 Aid us, the work under our labour grows, 
 Luxurious by restraint ; what w« by day 
 Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, 210 
 
 One night or two with wanton growth derides 
 Tending to wild. Thou therefore now advise. 
 Or hear 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 216 
 
 The clasping ivy where to climb ; while I 
 In yonder spring of roses, intermix'd 
 With myrtle, find what to redress till noon : 
 For while so near each other thus all day 220 
 
 Our task we choose, what wonder if so near 
 Looks intervene and smiles, or object new 
 Casual discourse draw on, which intermits 
 Our day's work brought to little, though begun 
 Early, and th' hour of supper comes unearn'd. 225 
 
 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 thoughts employ'd 
 How we might best fulfil the work which here 230 
 God hath assign'd us ; nor of me shalt pass 
 
 200. Milton spells scent without the c, according to the 
 Italian Sentiendo. 
 213. Z?ear instead of hear^ in some editions. 
 228. Compare for comparison ; a verb converted into a noun a^ 
 adjectives sometimes are. 
 
204 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Unpraised : for nothing- lovelier can be found 
 In v\roman, than to study household good. 
 And good works in her husband to promote. 
 Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed 23fi 
 
 Labour, as to debar us Avhen 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 ; 240 
 
 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 oiir joint hands 
 Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide 245 
 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 ui-ges sweet return. 250 
 
 But other doubt possesses me, lest harm 
 Befall thee, severed from me ; for thou know'st 
 What hath been warn'd us ; what malicious foe. 
 Envying oiir happiness, and of his ov/n 
 Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame 255 
 By sly assault ; and somewhere nigh at hand 
 Watches, no doubt, Avith greedy hope to find 
 His wish and best advantage, us asunder. 
 Hopeless to circumvent iis join'd, where each 
 To other speedy aid might lend at need. 260 
 
 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 265 
 
 That gave thee being, still shades thee, and protects. 
 The wife, v/here danger or dishonour lurks. 
 Safest and seemliest by her husband stays ; 
 Who guards her, or with her the worst endures. 
 
 To whom the virgin majesty of Eve, 270 
 
 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 
 That such an enemy we have, who seeks [Lordf 
 
BOOK IX. 205 
 
 Our ruin, both by thee inform'd I leani, 275 
 
 And from the parting- Angel overheard, 
 
 As in a shady nook I stood behind. 
 
 Just then return'd at shut of ev'ning flow'rs. 
 
 But that thou should'st my firmness therefore doubt 
 
 To God or thee, because we have a foe 280 
 
 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 285 
 
 I'hy equal fear that my firm faith and love 
 
 Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced? [breast. 
 
 Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy 
 
 Adam, mis-thought of her to thee so dear ? 
 
 To whom with healing words Adam reply'd : 290 
 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 foe. 295 
 
 For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses 
 The tempted with dishonour foul, supjjosed 
 W ot incorruptible of faith, not proof 
 Against temptation. Thou thyself with scorn 
 And anger would'st resent the ofFer'd wrong, 300 
 Though ineiFectual 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 th' assault shall light. 305 
 Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn ; 
 Subtle he needs must be who could seduce 
 Angels ; nor think superfluous other's aid. 
 I from the influence of thy looks receive 
 Access in ev'ry virtue ; in thy sight 310 
 
 More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were 
 Of outward strength ; while shame, thou looking on. 
 Shame to be overcome or over-reach'd 
 Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite. 
 Why should'st not thou like sense within thee feel 
 
 278. Nothin? can be more beautifully natural than the hour of 
 return beiu^ fixed by the closing of the flowers. 
 
206 PAKADISE LOST. 
 
 When I am present, and thy trial choose 310 
 
 With me, best witness of thy virtue try'd 1 
 
 So spake domestic Adam, in his care 
 And matrimonial love : but Eve, who thought 
 Less attributed to her faith sincere, 320 
 
 Thus her reply v/ith accent sweet renew'd : 
 
 If this be our condition, thus to dwell 
 In narrow circuit straighten'd by a foe. 
 Subtle or violent, we not endued 
 Single with like defence, wherever met, 325 
 
 How are we happy, still in fear of harm 1 
 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 330 
 
 Foul on himself : then wherefore shunn'd or fear'd 
 By us 1 who ratlier double honour gain 
 From his surmise proved false, find peace within. 
 Favour from Heav'n, our witness from th' event. 
 And what is faith, love, virtue unassay'd 335 
 
 Alone, without exterior help sustained 1 
 Let us not then suspect our happy state 
 Left so imperfect by the Maker wise. 
 As not secure to single or combined. 
 Frail is our happiness, if this be so, 340 
 
 And Eden were no Eden thus exposed. 
 
 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 345 
 
 Of all that he created, much less Man, 
 Or aught that might his happy state secure, 
 Secui'e from outward force. Within himself 
 The danger lies, yet lies within his pow'r : 
 Against his will he can receive no harm. 350 
 
 But God left free the will ; for what obeys 
 Reason is free, and reason he made right ; 
 But bid her well be ware, and still erect, 
 Lest by some fair appearing good surprised. 
 She dictate false, and misinform the will 355 
 
 To do what God expressly hath forbid. 
 
 S53. Be warCf two words ware being an adjective as well as 
 
BOOK IX. 207 
 
 Not then n).istrust but tender love enjoins, 
 
 That I should mind thee oft ; and mind thoa me. 
 
 Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve, 
 
 Since reason not impossibly may meet 300 
 
 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 365 
 
 Thou sever not : trial will come unsought. 
 
 Would'st thou approve thy constancy, approve 
 
 First thy obedience ; th' other who can know, 
 
 Not seeing thee attempted, who attest 1 
 
 But if thou think, trial unsought may nnd 370 
 
 Us both securer than thus warn'd tho^i seem'st, 
 
 Go ; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more. 
 
 Go, in thy native innocence, rely 
 
 On what tliou hast of virtue, summon all, 374 
 
 For God tow'rds thee hath done his part ; do thine. 
 
 So spake the patriarch of mankind : but Eve 
 Persisted, yet submiss, though last, reply'd : 
 
 With thy permission then, and thus forev/arn'd 
 Chiefiy by what thy own last reas'ning- words 
 Touch'd only, that our trial, when least sought, 380 
 May find us both perhaps far less prepared, 
 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. 3S4 
 
 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 v/ith bow and quiver arm'd, 390 
 But with such g-ard'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 
 Yertumnus, or to Ceres in her prime, 395 
 
 Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove. 
 Her long- with ardent look his eye pursued. 
 Delighted ; but desiring more her stay. 
 396. Virgin of Proserfina, a Grecism.— Theocritus, Tdyl ii. 136 
 
 r 
 
208 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Oft he to her liis charge of quick return 
 Repeated ; she to him as oft engaged 409 
 
 To be return'd by noon amid the bow'r. 
 And all things in best order to invite 
 Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose. 
 /O much deceived, much failing-, hapless Eve, 
 / Of thy presumed return ! event perverse ! 405 
 
 I Thou never from that hour in Paradise 
 \ Found'st either sweet repast or sound repose ! 
 ^*Such ambush hid among SAveet liow'rs and shades 
 Waited with hellish rancour imminent 
 To intercept thy way, or send thee back 410 
 
 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 
 The only two of mankind, but in them 415 
 
 The whole included race ; his purposed prey. 
 In bow'r and field he sought, where any tuft 
 Of grove or garden-plot more pleasant lay. 
 Their tendence or plantation for delight : 
 By fountain, or by shady rivulet 420 
 
 He sought them both ; but wish'd his hap might find 
 Eve separate ; he wish'd, but not with hope 
 Of what so seldom chanced, when to his wish. 
 Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies, 
 Veii'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood, 425 
 Half spy'd, so thick the roses blushing round 
 About her glow'd, oft stooping to support 
 Each flow'r of slender stalk, whose head, though gay 
 Carnation, purple', azure, or speck'd with gold. 
 Hung drooping unsustain'd : them she upstays 430 
 Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while 
 Herself, though fairest unsupported fiow'r, 
 
 torn her best prop so far, and storm so nigh, 
 iarer he drew ; and many a walk traversed 
 Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm, 435 
 
 Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen 
 Among thick-woven arborets and flow'rs 
 Imborder'd on each bank, the hand of Eve : 
 Spot more delicious than those gardens feign'd 
 
 438. Imbo7-der*d, from the old word to imborder, rfnce made 
 inbroider. 
 
BOOK IX. 20S 
 
 Or of revived Adorns, or renown'd 440 
 
 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 admired ; the person more. 
 
 As one who long in populous city pentj, 4.43 
 
 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 delig'bt; 
 
 The smell of g-rain, or tedded g-rass, or kine, 450 
 
 Or dairy', each rural sight, each rural sound : 
 
 If chance with nympli-like step fair virgin pass, 
 
 What pleasing- seeni'd, for her now pleases more, 
 
 She most, and in her look sums all delight. 
 
 Such pleasure took the Serpent to behold 455 
 
 This ilow'ry plat, the sweet recess of Eve 
 
 Thus early, thus alone. Her heav'nly form 
 
 Ang-elic, but more soft and feminine. 
 
 Her graceful innocence, her ev'ry air 
 
 Of g-esture or least action, overawed 460 
 
 His malice, and witli rapine sweet bereaved 
 
 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, 465 
 
 Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge ; 
 
 But the hot Hell that always in him burns, 
 
 Thou.rh in mid Heaven, soon ended his delig-ht, 
 
 And tortures him now more, the more he sees 
 
 Of pleasure not for him ordain'd. Then soon 470 
 
 Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts 
 
 Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites : 
 
 Thoughts, Avhitherhave ye led me I With whatsweet 
 Compulsion thus transported to forget 
 What hither brought us ! hate, not love, nor hope 
 Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste 4/6 
 
 440. It v'as sirpposed tliat Adonis was restored to life at the 
 recjuest of Venus. The gardens of Alcinous were celebrated uni- 
 vetsuily among- the ancients ; those not mystic were the gar- 
 dens Solonion iDiide for Pharaoh's daug-hter. 
 
 457. Tile interview between Aladin and Sophronia in the 
 •2 Caij. of 'lasso is described in s-imilar terms. 
 4u8. Thai IS, it woo Id be so were he in heaven. Or there is an 
 fti'iision perhaps to Job i. 6. ii. 1. 
 
210 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 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 noA^' smiles. Behold alone 480 
 
 The woman, opportuue to all attempts, 
 
 Her husband, ibr I view far round, not nigh, 
 
 Whose higher intellectual more I shun, 
 
 Ajid strength, of courage haughty, and of limb 
 
 Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould, 485 
 
 Foe not informidable, exempt from wound, 
 
 i not. So much hath Hell debased, 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 490 
 
 And beauty ; not approach'd by strong-er hate, 
 
 Hate stronger, under show of love well feign'd, 
 
 The way which to her ruin now I tend. 
 
 So spake th' enemy' of mankind, inclosed 
 In serpent, inmate bad, and toward Eve 495 
 
 Address'd his way, not with iudented 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 ; 500 
 
 With bui-nish'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 lUyria changed 505 
 
 Kermione and Cadmus, or the God 
 In Epidaurus ; nor to which transform'd 
 Ammonian .love, or Capitoline was seen ; 
 He with 01ympias,this with her who bore 
 Scipio the highih of Rome. With tract oblique 510 
 At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd 
 To interrupt, sidelong he works his way. 
 As when a ship by skilful steersman wrought, 
 Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind 
 
 505. Cfidmns and his wife being* oblij:ed to leave Thebes on 
 ^01111? into Illyria were changed into serpents by the way ; if the 
 word tfiose be considered as referring' to serpents gentrally, or 
 the nature of serpents, the construction will be easy. — The god 
 in Epidaurus, ^.sculapius, who was worsliippeu in tliat place. 
 
 508. Ammonian, Lybian ; Capitoline, Roman, 
 
f 
 
 BOOK IX. 211 
 
 Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail, 515 
 
 So varied he, and of his tortuous train 
 
 Curl'd many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, 
 
 To lure her eye : she busy'd, heard the sound 
 
 Of rustling- leaves, but minded not, as used 
 
 To such disport before her through the field 520 
 
 From ev'ry beast ; more duteous at her call 
 
 Than at Circean call the herd disguised. 
 
 He bolder now, uncall'd, before her stood, 
 
 But as in gaze admiring^; eft he bow'd 
 
 His turret crest and sleek enamel'd neck, 525 
 
 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 sei'pent-tongue 
 
 Organic, or impulse of vocal air, 630 
 
 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. 
 Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze 535 
 Insatiate, I thus single, nor have fear'd 
 Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired. 
 Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair I 
 Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
 By gift, and thy celestial beauty' adore 540 
 
 With ravishment beheld! there best beheld 
 Where universally admired : but here 
 In this inclosure wild, these beasts among. 
 Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
 Half what in thee is fair, one man except, 545 
 
 Who sees thee' ? (and what is one ?) who should 'st be 
 j- A Goddess among Gods, adored and served [seen ; 
 
 Ajj^'AM^y Angels numberless, thy daily train. J £ > , ^ /^ 
 
 ^%/So^gjpzed the Tempter, and his proem_tiined ; ^ 
 Into the heart of Eve his words made way, 5!>0 
 
 Though at the voice much marvelling. At length, 
 Not unamazed, she thus in answer spake : [noiinced 
 What may this mean 1 Language of man pro- 
 By tongiie of brute, and human sense express'd I 
 The first at least of these I thought deny'd 555 
 
 To beasts, whom God on their creation-day 
 Created mute to all articulate sound : 
 
212 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The latter I demur ; for in their looks 
 
 Much reason, and in their actions oft appeai9. 
 
 Thee, Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, f 00 
 
 1 knew, but not with human voice endued. 
 
 Redouble then this miracle, and say. 
 
 How cam'st thou speakable of mute ; and how 
 
 To me so friendly grown above the rest 
 
 Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight ! 6C5 
 
 Say ! for such wonder claims attention due. 
 
 To whom the guileful T^*pter thus reply'd : 
 Empress of this fair world, ^resplendent Eve, 
 Easy to me it is to tell thee all [obey'd 
 
 What thou command'st; and right thou should'st he 
 I was at first as other beasts that graze 571 
 
 The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low. 
 As was my food: nor aught but food discern'd, 
 Or sex, and apprehended nothing high ; 
 Till on a day roving the field, I chanced 575 
 
 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 savoury odour blown. 
 Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense .580 
 
 Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats 
 Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at ev'n, 
 Unsuck'd of lamb or kid, that tend their play. 
 To satisfy the sharp desire I had 
 Of tasting those fair apples, I resolved 585 
 
 Not to defer ; hunger and thirst at once 
 (Pow'rful persuaders) quicken'd at the scent 
 Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. 
 About the mossy trunk I wound me soon. 
 For high from ground the branches would require 59C 
 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 595 
 
 I spared 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 fiOd 
 
Bf)OK IX. 213 
 
 VV anted not long-, thoug-li to this shape retain'd* 
 
 Thenceforth to speculations high or deep 
 
 I turn'd m.y thoughts, and, with capacious mind, 
 
 Consider'd all things visible in Heav'n, 
 
 Or Earth, or Middle ; all things fair and good : 605 
 
 But all that fair and good in thy divine 
 
 Semblance, and in thy beauty's heav'nly ray 
 
 United 1 beheld. No fair to thine 
 
 Equivalent or second ; which compell'd 
 
 Me thus, though imporfetoe perhaps, to come 010 
 
 And gaze, and worship thee, of right declared 
 
 Sov'reign of creatures, universal Dame. 
 
 So talk'd the spirited sly Snake ; and Eve, 
 Yet more amazed, unwary, thus reply 'd: 
 Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt 615 
 
 The virtue of that fruit, in thee first proved. 
 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, 620 
 
 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 ; 625 
 
 Empress, the way is ready, and not long; 
 Beyond a row of myrtles, on a fiat. 
 Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
 Of blowing myrrh and balm. If thou accept 
 My conduct, I can bi'ing thee thither soon. 630 
 
 Lead then, said Eve. He leading swiftly roU'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 635 
 Condenses, and the cold environs round, 
 Kindled through agitation to a flame, 
 Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends, 
 
 612. Dame, formerly a term of great respect. 
 
 613. Warburton says, Milton has shewn more skill in the ♦^he- 
 ology of this part of the poem tfian in any other. His answer to 
 the objec tioivs ag'ainst the Mosaic history are of his own invention. 
 
 634. The description of the ser{>ent in this passage is remark* 
 Sible for its fidelity and force. 
 
214 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Hov'ring" and blazing" with delusive light, / 
 Misleads th' amazed night-wand'rer frora ^is way 
 To bogs and mires, and oft throug-h pond or pool, 610 
 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 
 Of prohibition, root of all our woe ! 645 
 
 Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake : 
 
 Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither, 
 Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to' excess. 
 The credit of whose virtue rest with thee, 
 Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects. 650 
 
 But of this tree we may not taste nor touch ; 
 God so commanded, and left that conimand 
 Sole daughter of his voice : the rest, we live 
 Law to ourselves ; our reason is oar law. 
 
 To whom the Tempter guilefully reply 'd : 655 
 
 Indeed ! Hath God then said, that of the fruit 
 Of all these garden-trees ye shall not eat. 
 Yet Lords declared of all in earth or air ? 
 
 To whom thus Eve, yet sinless: Of the fruit 
 Of each tree in the garden we may eat : 660 
 
 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 
 The Tempter, but with show of zeal and love [bold 
 To Man, and indignation at his wrong, 66& 
 
 New part puts on, and as to passion moved, 
 Fluctuates disturb'd, yet comely, and in act 
 Raised, as of some great matter to begin. 
 As when of old some orator renown'd 670 
 
 In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 
 Flourished, since mute, to some great cause address'd 
 Stood in himself collected, while each part, 
 
 643. Fraud, hurt or damag-e. 
 644. The tree of prohibition^ an Hebraism for the prohibited 
 tree. 
 
 653. Another Hebraism ; the expression signifies among' the 
 Jews, 'a voice from heaven,' or any mysterious revelation by 
 Bisiis or dreams. 
 
 673. There is a similar Italian exirregsion, in se raccoUo, A 
 new reading is proposed by Bentley, thus, 
 
 Stood in himself coUcclvd whotCj while each 
 Motion, each air : 
 But the best commentators prefer the pre/ieutt^xti 
 
BOOK IX. 215 
 
 Motion, each act won audience, ere the tongue, 
 Sometimes in Ijii^h^ began, as no delay 675 
 
 Of preface brooking* through his zeal of right : 
 So standing, moving, or to highth up grown. 
 The Tempter, all impassion'd, thus began : 
 
 O sacred, wise, and wisdom giving Plant, 
 Mother of science, now I feel thy pow'r 680 
 
 Within me clear, not only to discern 
 Things in their causes, but to trace the v/ays 
 Of highest agents, deem'd however wise. 
 Queen of this universe, do not believe 
 Those rigid threats of death : ye shall not die. 685 
 How should ye ? by the fruit 1 It gives you life 
 To knowledge ; by the threat'ner 1 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 venturing higher than my lot. 690 
 Shall that be shut to Man, which to the Beast 
 Is open 1 or will God incense his ire 
 For such a petty trespass, and not praise 
 Rather j^our dauntless virtue, whom the pain 
 Of death denounced, whatever thing death be, 695 
 Deterr'd not from achieving what might lead 
 To happier life, knowledge of good and evil ! 
 Of good, how just ! of evil, if vi'hat is evii 
 Be real, why not known, since easier shunn'd 1 
 God therefore cannot hurt ye and be just : 700 
 
 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 low and ignorant. 
 His worshippers. He knows that in the day 705 
 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, 710 
 
 : 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 wish'd, 
 
 70.5. Gen. iii. 5. 
 714. To iiul on Gods ; to become divine instead of human. 
 
216 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Tho' tlireateii'd, which no worse than this can bring. 
 And what are Gods, that Man may not become 716 
 As they, participating' Godlike food ? 
 The Gods are first, and that advantage use 
 On our belief, that all from them proceeds. 
 1 question it ; for this fair earth I see, 720 
 
 Warm'd by the sun, producing- ev'ry kind ; 
 Them nothing. If they all things, who inclosed 
 Knowledge of good and evil in this tree, 
 That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains 
 Wisdom without their leave 1 and wherein lies 725 
 Th' offence, that Man should thus attain to know 1 
 What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree 
 Impart against his will, if ail be his 1 
 Or is it envy? And can envy dwell 
 "Til heav'nly breasts'? These, these and many more 730 
 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 gazed, which to behold 73.5 
 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'ed 
 An eager appetite, raised by the smell 740 
 
 So savoury of that fruit, which with desire, 
 Inclinable now grown to touch or taste. 
 Solicited her longing eye : yet first. 
 Pausing a while, thus to herself she mused : 
 
 Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits, 745 
 Though kept from man, and worthy to be admired, 
 Whose taste, too long forborn, at first assay 
 Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
 The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise. 
 Thy praise he also, who forbids thy use, 750 
 
 738. This is one of the few instances of bad taste really affectin" 
 the beauty of the narrative, to be fouiid in the jmeni. The whole 
 of Satan's speech had tended to inspire spiritual pride and a bold 
 desire of knowledi^e ; all the foMowing- reflections of Eve are in 
 correspondence with the address of the tempter. The idea, 
 therefore, here introduced of her sharpened appetite, and of the 
 tavoriness of the fruit, is in bad keeping with the a^eneral tone of 
 the passag'e; and I am not a little surprised tiiat any of Milton's 
 commentators could have attempted to find a beautv in its 
 Introduction. 
 
BOOK IX. 217 
 
 (JoJiceals 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 : 755 
 
 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 760 
 
 Bind us with after-bands, Avh at 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 eaten and lives, 
 
 And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns : 
 
 Irrational till then. For us alone 766 
 
 Was death invented ? or to us deny'd 
 
 This intellectual food, for beasts reserved ? 
 
 For beasts it seems ; yet that one beast which first 
 
 Ilath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy 770 
 
 The good befall'n him, author unsuspect. 
 
 Friendly to nian, far from deceit or 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? 775 
 
 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, 789 
 
 Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat! 
 Ea^'th felt the v/ound; and Nature from her seat 
 Sighing, tbrough all her works gave signs of woe, 
 That all was lost ! Back to the thicket slunk 
 The guilty Serpent, and well might, for Eve, 785 
 Intent now wholly on her taste, nought else 
 Regai-ded ; such delight till then, as seem'd. 
 In fruit she never tasted, whether true 
 Or farHjy'd so, through expectation high 
 Of knowledge ; nor was Godhead from her thought. 
 Greedily she ingorged without restraint 791 
 
 And knew not eating death. Satiate at length. 
 And heighten'd as with wine, jocund, and boou^ 
 L 
 
21S PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Thus to herself she pleasingly began: 
 """"^O sovereign, virtuous, precious of all trees 795 
 
 In Paradise, of operation blest 
 To sapience, hitherto obscured, infamed, 
 And thy fair fruit let hang, as to no end 
 Created; but henceforth my early care, 
 Not without song, each morning, and due praise 800 
 Shall tend thee, and the fertile burden ease 
 Of thy full branches, 'offer'd free to all ; 
 Till, dieted by thee, I grow mature 
 In knowledge, as the Gods who all things know ; 
 Though others envy what they cannot give; 805 
 
 For had the gift been theirs, it had not here 
 Thus grown. Experience, next to thee I owe, 
 Best guide ; not following thee 1 had remain'd 
 111 ignorance : thou open'st Wisdom's way, 
 And giv'st access, though secret she retire. 810 
 
 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 815 
 
 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 pow*r 820 
 Without copartner? 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 ? 825 
 
 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 enjoying; I extinct. 
 A death to think I Confirm'd then, I resolve 830 
 
 Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe : 
 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 : 
 
 bl8. To g-ive to partake ; an elegant moae of expressico in 
 classic authors. 
 
BOOK IX. 219 
 
 But first low rev'rence done, as to the Pow'r 835 
 That dwelt within, whose presence had infused 
 Into the plant sciential sap, derived 
 From nectar, drink of Gods. Adam the while 
 Waiting-, desirous her return, had wove 
 Of choicest fiow'rs a garland, to adorn 840 
 
 Her tresses, and her rural labours crown. 
 As reapers oft are wont their harvest-queen. 
 Great joy he promised to his thoug-hts, and new 
 Solace in her return, so long delay'd ; 
 Yet oft his heart, divine of something- ill, 8^15 
 
 Misg-ave 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 met, 
 Scarce from the tree returning ; in her hand 850 
 A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smiled, 
 New gather'd, and ambrosial smell diffused. 
 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 ? 850 
 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 sought, 860 
 
 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 865 
 
 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, 
 
 835. This first sign of idolatry in man is well introduced as an 
 immediate consequence of the fall. The remaining- portion of 
 this book may be considered, I think, as in some resyiects superior 
 to any other part of the poem. The mention of Adam, uncon- 
 scious of the coming woe, weaving flowers for Eve is exquisitely 
 pathetic ; the niisiriving-s of his heart on meeting her, the descrip- 
 tion of her ag'itnted a];)ptarance, and the discourse, deep and pas- 
 sionate, whicli follows, are all conceited in tlie finest vein o( 
 tragic g'enius. In no other part of his poem had Milton an op 
 portunity of dispiayintr his power in the delineation of human 
 passion, but he has here proved, that had his subject admitted it. 
 it v;ould have possessed not less patlios tlian sublimity. 
 
220 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Hath eaten of the fruit, and is become, 
 
 Not dead, as we are threaten'd, but thencefortli 870 
 
 Endued with human voice and human sense, 
 
 Reasoninjj to admiration; and with me 
 
 Persuasively hath so prevail'd, that I 
 
 Have also tasted, and have also found 
 
 Th' effects to correspond; opener mine eyes, 875 
 
 Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart, 
 
 And growing- up to Godhead ; which for thee 
 
 Chiefly I sought; without thee can despise: 
 
 For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss ; 
 
 Tedious, unshared with thee, and odious soon. 880 
 
 Thou therefore also taste, that equal lot 
 
 May join us, equal joy, as equal love ! 
 
 Lest thou not tasting-, dilferent degree 
 
 Disjoin us, and I then too late renounce 
 
 Deity for thee, when Fate will not permit. 83i 
 
 Thus Eve, v/ith count'nance blithe, her story told ; 
 But in her cheek distemper flushing- glow'd. 
 On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard 
 The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, 
 Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill 890 
 
 Kan 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. 
 tSpeechiess he stood and pale, till thus at length, 
 First to himself, he inward silence broke : 895 
 
 O fairest of creation, last and best 
 or 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 lo.'it! 900 
 
 Defaced, deflow'r'd, and now to death devote ! 
 Hather, How hast thou yielded, to transgress 
 The strict forbiddance 1 how to violate 
 The sacred fruit forbidden? Some cursed fraud 
 Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unkntnvn, 905 
 
 And me with thee hath ruin'd! for v/ith thee 
 Certain my resolution is to die. 
 How can I live without thee ! how forego 
 'i'hy sweet converse and love so dearly join'd, 
 To live ag-ain in these wild v/oods forlorn ! 010 
 
 Should God create another Eve, and I 
 
BOOK IX. 
 
 22^ 
 
 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 hone thou art ; and from thy state 915 
 
 Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe. 
 
 So having said, as one from sad dismay 
 Recomforted, and after thoughts disturb'd 
 Submitting to what seem'd remediless. 
 Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turn'd : 920 
 
 Bold deed thou hast presumed, advent'rous Eve, 
 And peril great provoked, who thus hast dared. 
 Had it been only coveting- to eye 
 That sacred fruit, sacred to abstinence. 
 Much more to taste it, under ban to touch. 99^ 
 
 But past who can recall, or done undo 1 
 Not God omnipotent, nor Fate : yet so 
 Perhaps thou shalt not die ; perhaps the fact 
 Is not so hainous now, foretasted fruit. 
 Profaned first by the serpent, by him first 930 
 
 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 935 
 
 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, 940 
 
 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 conceived of Gad, who tho' his pow'r 945 
 Creation could repeat, yet would be loth 
 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? 95G 
 Matter of scorn, not to be giv'n the Foe. 
 However, I with thee have fix'd my lot. 
 Certain to undergo like doom. If death 
 
 91X>, Hainous; so spelt by Milton, from the French kainetue. 
 
222 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Consort with thee, death is to me as life ? 
 
 So forcible within my heart I feel 955 
 
 The bond of nature draw me to my own. 
 
 My own in thee ! for what thou art is mine < 
 
 Our state cannot be severed ; we are one. 
 
 One fiesh. To lose tiiee were to lose myself. 
 
 So Adam; and thus Eve to him reply'd: 980 
 
 O glorious trial of exceeding- love ! 
 Illustrious evidence 1 example high ! 
 Engaging me to emulate, but short 
 Of thy perfection, how shall I attain, 
 Adam ? from whose dear side I boast me sprung, 965 
 And gladly of our union hear thee speak. 
 One heart, one soul in both ; whereof good proof 
 This day affords, declaring thee resolved, 
 Rather than death or aught than death more dread 
 Shall separate us, link'd in love so dear, 970 
 
 To undergo with me one guilt, one crime. 
 If any be, of tasting this fair fruit, 
 W^hose virtue (for of good still good proceeds, 
 Direct, or by occasion) hath presented 
 This happy trial of thy love, which else 975 
 
 So eminently never had been known. 
 Were it I thought death menaced would ensue 
 This my attempt, I would sustain alone 
 The worst, and not persuade thee : rather die 
 Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact 980 
 
 Pernicious to thy peace, chiefly assured 
 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, 985 
 Taste so divine, that what of sweet before 
 Hath toach'd my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh. 
 On my experience, Adam, freely taste ; 
 And fear of death deliver to the winds. 
 
 So saying, she embraced him, and for joy 990 
 
 990. There is srreat beauty and the truest passion in this pic- 
 ture of Eve. It well prepares the mind for the fall of Adam, who 
 is represented as sinning more throus^h the intoxication of love 
 and fondness than any ig-norance of his dang-er. What a magni- 
 ficent scene has the poet for the first act of the fearful tragedy ! 
 The great theatre of the universe filled with darkness and horror, 
 and the earth and elements suffering- with a mysterious conscious 
 11688 of ruiD. 
 
BOOK IX. 223 
 
 Tenderly wept; nuich won that he his lov^e 
 Had so ennobled, as of choice t' incur 
 Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 
 In recompense (for such compliance bad 
 Such recompense best merits) from the hough 995 
 She gave him of that fair enticing- fruit 
 With liberal hand : he scrupled not to eat 
 Agamst his better knowledge ; not deceived, 
 But fondly overcome, with female charm. 
 Earth trembled from her entrails, as again 1000 
 
 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 1005 
 
 Her former trespass fear'd, the more to sooth 
 Him with her loved society, that nov/. 
 As with new wine intoxicated both. 
 They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel 
 Divinity within them breeding wings 1010 
 
 Wherewith to scorn the earth : but that false fruit 
 Far other operation first display'd ; 
 Carnal desire iilflaming : he on Eve 
 Began to cast lascivious eyes ; she him 
 As wantonly repaid. In lust they burn : 1015 
 
 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 1020 
 
 Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purvey'd. 
 Much pleasure we have lost while we abstain'd 
 From this delightful fruit, nor known till now 
 True relish, tasting. If such pleasure be 
 In things to us forbidd'n, it might be wish'd, 1025 
 For this one tree had been forbidden ten. 
 
 1000. A commentator has expressed his wonder that Adam 
 shewed no astonishment at these convulsions. — Had he been is^no- 
 rant of his guilt he would have done so, but he was aware of the 
 crime he was committing-, and the same fascination which made 
 him break the known command of his Creator, prevented his re- 
 o-arding these signs of his wrath. It may also be conjectured 
 liiat, awful as they were, the confusion of thought and passion 
 wit)'- which he was agitated might hinder his giving theni their 
 proper and terrible interpretation. 
 
 Q 
 
224 P A HAD IS E LOST. 
 
 But come, so well retresli'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 1030 
 
 With all perfections, so inflame my sense 
 
 With ardour to enjoy thee ; fairer now 
 
 Than ever, bounty of this virtuous ti*ee. 
 
 So said he ; and forbore not glance or toy 
 Of amorous intent : well understood 1025 
 
 Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire. 
 Her hand he seized, and to a shady bank. 
 Thick overhead wdth verdant roof imbower'd, 
 He led her, nothing loth. Flow'rs were the coach, 
 Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, 1040 
 
 A.nd hyacinth, eai'th's freshest softest lap. 
 There they their fill of love and love's disport 
 Took largely, of their miitual 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, 1046 
 
 That with exhilarating vapour bland 
 About their spirits had play'd, and inmost pow'rs 
 Made err, was now exhaled, and grosser sleep 
 Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 1050 
 Incumber'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 minda 
 How darken 'd. Innocence, that as a veil 
 Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gone ; 
 Just confidence, and native righteousness, 1056 
 
 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 Samson from the harlot-lap 1060 
 
 Of Philistean Dalilah, and v/aked 
 Shorn of his strength. They destitute and bare 
 Of all their virtue : silent, and in face 
 Confounded long they sat, as strucken mute, 
 
 1029. The passag-e following' is principally copied from Hornei*. 
 and would be exceptionable did it not form part of the moral ot 
 the poem : what a contrast, it has been well observed, is the love 
 scene here described to that in the eig-hth book. 
 
 1058. He, refers to shame, which is personified. 
 1059. Samson was of the tribe of Dan. 
 
BOOR IX. 225 
 
 Till Adam, thougli nut less than Eve abash'd, 1065 
 At length g'ave utt'rance to these words, constraiu'd : 
 
 O Eve ! in evil hour thou didst give ear 
 To that false worm, of whomsoever taught 
 To counterfeit Man's voice, true in our fall, 
 False in our promised rising ! Since our eyes 1070 
 Open'd we find indeed, and find we knov/ 
 Both good and evil ; good lost, and evil got 1 
 Bad fruit of knowledge, if this be to know 
 Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void, 
 Of innocence, of faith, of purity, 1075 
 
 Our wonted ornaments now soil'd and stain'd. 
 And in our faces evident the signs 
 Of foul concupiscence ; whence evil store ; 
 E'en shame, the last of evils : of the first 
 Be sure then. How shall I behold the face 1080 
 Hencefortli of God or A7igel, erst with joy 
 And rapture so' oft beheld ? those heav'nly shapes 
 Will dazzle now this earthly with their blaze, 
 Insufferably bright! O might I here 
 In solitude live savage, in some glade 1085 
 
 Obscured, where highest woods impenetrable 
 To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad. 
 And brown as ev'ning! Cover me, ye Pines ; 
 Ye Cedars, with innumerable boughs 
 Hide me, where I may never see them more. 1090 
 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 sew'd, 
 And girded on our loins, may cover round 1096 
 
 Those middle parts, that this new comer, Shame, 
 There sit not, and reproach us as unclean. 
 
 So counsel'd he ; and both together went 
 Into the thickest wood ; there soon they chose 1100 
 The fig-tree ; not that kind for fruit renown'd, 
 But such as at this day, to Indians known 
 In Malabar or Deccan, spreads her arms 
 Branching so broad and long, that in the ground 
 The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 1 105 
 About the mother-tree, a pillar'd shade 
 
 1103. Malabar, a part of the East Indies, in which is the Wng 
 dom of Deccan. 
 
 L2 
 
226 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 High over-arcla'd, and echoing" walks between : 
 
 There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat. 
 
 Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing- herds 
 
 At loop-holes cut through thickest shade. Those leavea 
 
 They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe, IIH 
 
 And with what skill they had together sew'd. 
 
 To gird their waist. Vain covering, if to hide 
 
 Their guilt and dreaded shame ! O how unlike 
 
 To that iirst naked glory 1 Such of late 1115 
 
 Columbus found th' American, so girt 
 
 With feather'd cincture, naked else and wild 
 
 Among the trees on isles and woody shores. 
 
 Thus fenced, and as they thought, their shame in part 
 
 Covered, but not at rest or ease of mind, 1120 
 
 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, 5usj)icion, discord, and shook sore 
 
 Their inward state of mind : calm region once 1125 
 
 And full of peace, now tost and turbulent; 
 
 For understanding- ruled 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 IlSfl 
 
 Supei'ior sway. From thus distemper'd breast, 
 
 Adam, estranged in look and alter" d style. 
 
 Speech intermitted thus to Eve renew'd : [stay'd 
 
 Would thou hadst hearken'd to my words, and 
 With me, as 1 besought thee, when that strange 1135 
 Desire of wand 'ring this unhappy morn, 
 I know not v*^hence, possess'd thee ; we had then 
 Remained still happy, not, as now, despoil'd 
 Of all our good, shamed, naked, miserable. 
 Let none henceforth seek needless cause to' approve 
 The faith they owe : when earnestly they seek 1141 
 Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail. [Eve : 
 
 To whom, soon moved v/ith touch of blame, thus 
 What words have pass'd thy lips, Adam, severe ! 
 Imput'st thou that to my default, or will 1145 
 
 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, 
 
 1112. Together sew^d ; this which is taken from our translation 
 of the passag'e in Genesis, means in the original, wove or plaited. 
 
BOOK IX. 227 
 
 Or here tli* attempt, thou couldst not have discern'd 
 Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake ; 1150 
 No ground of enmity between us known, 
 Why he should mean me ill, or seek to harm. 
 Was I to have ne'er parted from thy side ? 
 As good have g-rown there still, a lifeless rib ! 
 Being- as I am, why didst not thou, the head, 1153 
 Command me absolutely not to g'O, 
 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, 1160 
 Neither had I transg-ress'd, nor thou with me. 
 
 To whom then, first incensed, Adam reply'd : 
 Is this the love, is this the recompense 
 Oi mine to thee, ingrateful Eve, express'd 
 Immutable when thou wert lost, not I, 1105 
 
 Who might have lived and joy'd immortal bliss. 
 Yet Avillingly chose rather death with thee 1 
 And am I now upbraided as the cause 
 Of thy transgressing' 1 not enough severe, 
 It seems, in thy restraint. What could I more ? 1170 
 I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold 
 The danger, and the lurking enemy 
 That lay iu wait. Beyond this had been force ; 
 And force upon free-will hath here no place. 
 13ut confidence then bore thee on, secure 1175 
 
 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 1 thought 
 No evil durst attempt thee ; but I rue 1180 
 
 That error now, which is become my crime. 
 And thou th' accuser. Thus it shall befall 
 Him who, to worth in women overtrusting, 
 Lets her will rule. Restraint she will not brook ; 
 And left to' herself, if evil thence ensue, 1183 
 
 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. 
 
 1170. My restraint is found in some editions. 
 1183. Bentley reads, womtin ; but the transition from the sin- 
 gular to the plural, as in this passage, is not a sufficient reason 
 for thp ?Uan|e. 
 
BOOK X. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Man's transgression known, the g-uardian Angela forsake Po 
 radise, and return up to Heaven to approve their vig'ilance, and 
 are approved, God declaring that the entrance of Satan could no{ 
 be by them prevented. He sends his Son to judge the transgres- 
 sors, vvho descends and gives sentence accordingly ; then in pity 
 clothes them both, and re-ascends. Sin and Death, sitting till then 
 at the gates of Hell, by wondrous sympathy feeling the success 
 of Satan In this new world, and the sin by Man there committed, 
 resolve to sit no longer confined 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 fi'o, they pave a broad highway or bridge 
 over Chaos, according to the track that Satan first made ; then, 
 preparing for Earth, they meet him, proud of his success, return- 
 ing to Hell ; their mutual gratulation. Satan arrives at Pande- 
 monium, in full assembly relates with boasting his success against 
 Man : instead of applause, 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 of Sin and Death : God foretells the final victory 
 of his Son over them, and the renewing of all things ; but for the 
 
 E resent commands his Angels to make several alterations in the 
 [eavens 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 fail on their offspring, proposes to Adam violent ways, 
 v/hich he approves not; but, conceiving better hope, puts her in 
 mind of the late promise made them, that her Seed should be 
 revenged on the Serpent; and exhorts her with him to seek 
 peace of the offended Deity, fay repentance and supplication. 
 
 Meanwhile the hainous 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. 
 
 Was known in Heav'n : for what can 'scape the eye 
 
 Of God all-seeing", or deceive his heart 6 
 
 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 repulsed 10 
 
 Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. [ber'd 
 
 For vStill they knew, and ought to' have still remem- 
 
 The high injunction not to taste that fruit 
 
 Whoever tempted : wliich they not obeying, 
 
 1. There is more of action, as Addison has well observed, in 
 this book than in any other, and all the characters of the poem 
 arc made to paas in quick succesc4on before the reader. 
 
BOOK X. 229 
 
 Iiicurr'd (what could they less ?) the penalty, 15 
 
 And manifold in sin, deserved to fall. 
 Up into Heav'n from Paradise in haste 
 Th' Ang-elic guards ascended, mute and sad 
 For Man ; for of his state hy this they knew, 
 Much wond'ring' how the subtle fiend had stolen 1Q 
 Entrance unseen. Soon as th' unwelcome news 
 From Earth arrived at Heaven-gate, displeased 
 All were who heard ; dim sadness did not spare 
 That time celestial visages ; yet, mix'd 
 With pity, violated not their bliss. 25 
 
 About the new-arrived, in multitudes 
 Th' ethereal people ran, to hear and knov/ 
 How all befell: they tow'rds the throne supreme, 
 Accountable, made haste to make appear 
 With righteous plea their utmost vigilance, 30 
 
 And easily approved ; when the Most High 
 Eternal Father, from his secret cloud, 
 Amidst in thunder, utter'd thus his voice : 
 
 Assembled Angels, and ye Tow'rs return'd 
 From iinsuccessfal charge, be not dismay'd 35 
 
 Nor troubled at these tidings from tbe 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 40 
 
 On his bad errand ; Man should be seduced 
 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 45 
 
 His free-will, to her own inclining left 
 In even scale. But fall'n he is ; and now 
 What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass 
 On his transgression, death denounced 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. 
 
 94 Mh-'d with pity must be read as in a parenthesis, accord- 
 in?. V^"rburton ; the idea of angelic sadness thus softened unng 
 ^ery just and beautiful. 
 
 50 
 
230 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 But whom send I to judg-e them ? Whom but thee, 55 
 
 Viceg-erent Son 1 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 6ii 
 
 Both Ransom and Redeemer voluntary. 
 
 And destined Man himself to judge Man faU'n. 
 
 So spake the Father, and unfolding bright 
 
 Tow'rd the right hand his glory, on the Son 
 
 Blazed forth unclouded Deity : he full 66 
 
 Resplendent 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 beloved, 70 
 
 May^st ever rest well pleased. I go to judge 
 On earth these thy transgressors ; but thou know'st. 
 Whoever judged, the worst on me must light, 
 When time shall be, for so I undertook 
 Before thee ; and not repenting, this obtain 75 
 
 Of right, that I may mitigate their doom 
 On me derived ; yet I shall temper so 
 Justice with mercy', as may illustrate most 
 Them fully satisfy'd, and thee appease. 
 Attendance none shall need, nor train where none 80 
 Are to behold the judgment, but the judged. 
 Those two. The third, best absent, is condemn'd, 
 Convict by flight, and rebel to all laAV 
 Conviction to the serpent none belongs. 
 
 Thus saying, from his radiant seat he rose 85 
 
 Of high collat'ral glory' : him Thrones and Pow'rs, 
 Princedoms and Dominations ministrant, 
 Accompanied to Heaven-gate ; from whence 
 Eden and all the coast in prospect lay. 
 Down he descended straight : the speed of Gods 90 
 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 
 
 56. John V. 22—27. 59. Ps. Ixxxv. 10. 
 
 74. According: to Book iii. line 236. 
 
 78. Illustrate most, «hew or prove most clearly. 
 
 92. Gen. iii. 8, and following' verses. 
 
BOOK X. 231 
 
 To fan the eartli, now waked, and usher in 
 
 The ev'ning cool, when he from wrath more cool, 95 
 
 Came the mild Judg'e 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 declined : they heard, 
 
 And from his presence hid themselves among' 100 
 
 The thickest trees, both man and wife, till God 
 
 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 pleased, thus entertain'd with solitude, 105 
 
 Where o])vious duty' erewhile appear'd unsought ; 
 
 Or come I less conspicuous 1 or v/hat change 
 
 Absents thee, or what chance detains 1 Come forth. 
 
 He came, and with him Eve, more loth, tho' first 
 T' offend, discount'nanced both, and discomposed : 110 
 Lore was not in their looks, either to God 
 Or to each other, but apparent guilt. 
 And shame, and perturbation, and despair, 
 Ang-er, and obstinacy', and hate, and guile. 
 Whence Adam, falt'ring- long, thus answer'd brief: 
 I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice 116 
 
 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 rejoiced : how is it now become 120 
 
 So dreadful to thee ? That thou'rt naked, who 
 Hath told thee? Hast thou eaten of the tree 
 Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat 1 
 
 To whom thus Adam, sore beset, reply'd: 
 
 Heav'n I in evil strait this day I stand 125 
 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 130 
 By my complaint; but strict necessity 
 
 Subdues me, and calamitous constraint. 
 
 Lest on my head both sin and punishment, 
 
 However insupportable, be all 
 
 Devolved ; tho', should I hold my peace, yet thou 1&5 
 
 Wouldst easily detect what I conceal. 
 
232 TAR AD IS E LOST. 
 
 This Woraan, whora thou niad'st to be my help. 
 
 And gav'st me as thy perfect gift, so good, 
 
 So fit, so acceptable, so divine. 
 
 That from her hand I could suspect no ill ; 14^ 
 
 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 whora the Sov'reign Presence thus reply'd : 
 Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey 145 
 
 Before his voice ? or was she made thy guide, 
 Superior, or but equal, that to her 
 Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place 
 Wherein God set thee 'bove her, made of thee, 
 And for thee, whose perfection far excell'd 150 
 
 Hers in all 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 155 
 
 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 ovorwhelm'd, 
 Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge 160 
 
 Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd, reply'd : 
 The Serpent me beguiled, and I did eat. 
 
 Which when the Lord God heard, without delay 
 To judgment he proceeded on th' accused 
 Serpent, though brute, unable to transfer 165 
 
 The guilt on him who made him instrument 
 Of mischief, and polluted from the end 
 Of his creation ; justly then accursed. 
 As vitiated in nature : more to know 
 Concern'd not Man (since he no further knew) 170 
 Nor alter'd his offence ; yet God at last 
 To Satan, first in sin, his dooin applied. 
 Though in mysterious terms, judged as then best ; 
 And on the serpent thus his curse let fall : 
 
 156. Person, here used in the sense of the Latin persona, cha- 
 racter. 
 
 169. Warburton conjectures from this passasre that Milton had 
 not the intention when he wrote it, of making- Michael g-ive Adam 
 the informatior on redemption which is found in the xiith book. 
 If it bti not so, the passag-e as he observes is out of place. 
 
BOOK X. ^ 2*d3 
 
 Because thou hast done this, thou art accursed 173 
 
 Above all cattle, each beast of the field ; 
 
 Upon thy belly grov'ling thou shalt go. 
 
 And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life. 
 
 Between thee and the Woman I will put 
 
 Rnmity, and between thine and her seed : 180 
 
 Her Seed shall bruise th,y head ; 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, 185 
 Spoil'd principalities and pov/'rs, triumph 'd 
 In open show, and, v/ith ascension bright. 
 Captivity led captive through the air. 
 The I'ealm itself of Satan long usurp'd ; 
 Whom he shall tread at last under our feet; 190 
 
 E'en 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 195 
 
 Thine shall submit : he over thee shall rule. 
 
 On Adam last thus judgment he pronounced : 
 Because thou'st hearken'd to th' voice of thy wife. 
 And eaten of the tree, concei'ning which 199 
 
 1 charged thee, saying. Thou shalt not eat thereof; 
 Cursed 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 
 Unbid ; and thou shalt eat th' herb of the field ; 
 In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, 205 
 Till thou return unto the ground ; for thou 
 Out of the g-round wast taken (know thy birth); 
 For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return. 
 
 So judged he Man, both Judge and Saviour sent. 
 And th' instant stroke of death denounced, that day 
 Removed far off; then pitying how they stood 2H 
 Before him naked to the air, that now 
 Must suffer change, disdain'd not to begin 
 Thenceforth the form of servant to assume, 
 
 181. There are several allusions to Scripture in this and the 
 following- lines, Luke x. 18. Eph. ii. 2. Col. ii. 15. Ps. Ixviii, IS, 
 and Rom. xxi. 20. 214. Philip, ii. 7. 
 
234 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 As when he wash'd his servants' feet, so now, 215 
 
 As Father of his family, he clad 
 
 Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slaiu. 
 
 Or as the snake with youthful coat repaid ; 
 
 And thought not much to clothe his enemies : 
 
 Nor he their outward only with the skins 220 
 
 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 re-assumed 225 
 
 In glory, as of old ; to him appeased 
 
 All, tho' all-knowing, what had pass'd with Man 
 
 Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. 
 
 Meanwhile ere thus was sinn'd and judged on Earth, 
 Witbin the gates of Hell sat Sin and Death, 230 
 
 In coiinterview within the gates, that now 
 Stood open wide, belching oxitrageous flame 
 Far into Chaos, since the Fiend pass'd through. 
 Sin opening, who thus now to Death began : 
 
 O Son, why sit we here each other viewing 235 
 Idly, while Satan our great author thrives 
 In other worlds, and happier seat provides 
 For us, his offspring dear ? It cannot be 
 Rut that success attends him ; if mishap, 
 Ere this he had return'd, with fury driven 240 
 
 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, 245 
 
 Or sympathy, or some connat'ral 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; 250 
 
 For Death from Sin no power can separate. 
 
 216. It was formerly Vjelieved that some animals shed their 
 skins like snakes: but the most common supj-osition is, that the 
 ekins mentioned in this part of Scripture history were those ol 
 animals offered in sacrifice, which it is arenerally supposed were 
 : nstituted in the earliest period of man's existence. 
 222. Isaiah Ixi. 10. 
 229 Sinned and jxidged, impersonal verbs. 
 
I500K X. 235 
 
 But lest the difficulty of passing- back 
 
 Stay his return perhaps over this gulf 
 
 Impassable, impervious, let us try 
 
 Advent'rous w^ork, yet to thy pow'r and mine 253 
 
 Not unagreeable, to found a path 
 
 Over this main from Hell to that New World 
 
 Where Satan now prevails, a monument 
 
 Of merit high to all ih' infernal host. 
 
 Easing their passage hence, for intercourse 260 
 
 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 265 
 
 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 270 
 
 Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid. 
 
 So saying, with delight he snuff 'd the smell 
 Of mortal change on earth. As when a flock 
 Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote. 
 Against the day of battle, to a field 275 
 
 Where armies lie encamp'd, come flying, lured 
 With scent of living carcases design'd 
 For death the following day, in bloody fight ; 
 So scented the grim Feature, and upturn'd 
 His nostril wide into the murky air, 280 
 
 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) 
 Hov'ring upon the waters, what they met, 285 
 
 Solid or slimy, as in raging sea 
 Tost up and down, together crowded drove 
 ' From each side shoaling towards the mouth of Hell : 
 As when two polar winds, blowing adverse 
 Upon the Cronian sea, together drive 290 
 
 Mountains of ice, that stop th' imagined way 
 
 266. Nor err, noT mistake. 
 290. Cronian sea, the icrthern frozen ocean. — Petsora^ a pro- 
 vince on the north eastern extremity of Muscovy.— CafAatan 
 ioasi, the north of China. 
 
236 PARADISIC LOST. 
 
 Beyond Petsora eastward, to the rich 
 
 Cathaian coast. The ag'gregated soil 
 
 Death with his mace petrific, cold and dry. 
 
 As with a trident smote, and fix'd as firm 29!; 
 
 As Delos floating once ; the rest his look 
 
 Bound with Gorgonian rigour not to move ; 
 
 And with Asphaltic slime, broad as the gate, 
 
 Deep to the roots of Hell the gather'd beach 
 
 They fasten'd, and the mole immense wrought on 300 
 
 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, inoflensive down to Hell. 305 
 
 So, if great things to small may be compared, 
 
 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, 310 
 
 And scourged with many a stroke th' indignant waves. 
 
 Now had they brought the work by wondrous art 
 
 Pontifical, a ridge of pendent rock, 
 
 Over the vex'd abyss, following the track 
 
 Of Satan to the self-same place where he 315 
 
 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 made 
 
 And durable ; and now in little space 320 
 
 The confines met of Empyrean Heav'n 
 
 And of this World, and on the left hand Hell 
 
 W^ith long reach interposed : three sev'ral ways 
 
 In sight, to each of these three places led. 
 
 And now their way to Earth they had descry'd, 325 
 
 To Paradise first tending, when, behold, 
 
 Satan, in likeness of an Angel bright, 
 
 296. After it became the birth-place of Apollo, Delos ceased, it 
 is said, to Moat as formerly. 
 
 304. Matt. vii. 13. 
 
 305. Xerxes, Uie king^ of Persia, built a bridg'e over the Helles- 
 pont to invade Greece. — Susa was the capital of Susiana, a pro- 
 vince of Persia. 
 
 312. The art of raisins;' bridg'es was among- the most wonderful 
 in antiquity ; and the high-priest of the Romans derived his name 
 Pontifex, xvoxa pons, a bridge, ^nAfacere, to make. 
 
 322. Hell is placed on the left hand according to our Saviour's 
 account. Matt. xxv. 41. 
 
BOOK X. 237 
 
 Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion steering 
 
 His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose. 
 
 Disguised he came ; but those his children dear 330 
 
 Their parent soon discern'd, though in disguise. 
 
 He, after Eve seduced, unminded slunk 
 
 Into the wood fast by, and changing- shape 
 
 T' observe the sequel, saw his guileful act 
 
 By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded 335 
 
 Upon her husband, saw their shame that sought 
 
 Vain covertures ; but when he saw descend 
 
 The Soji of God to judge them, terrify'd 
 
 He fled, not hoping to escape, but shun 
 
 The present, fearing guilty what his wrath S40 
 
 Might suddenly inflict ; that pass'd, retum'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 345 
 
 And tidings fraught, to Hell he now return'd, 
 
 And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot 
 
 Of this new wondrous pontifice, unhoped 
 
 Met who to meet him came, his offspring dear. 
 
 Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight 350 
 
 Of that stupendous bridge his joy increased. 
 
 Long he admiring stood, till Sin, bis fair 
 
 Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke : 
 
 O Parent, these are thy magnific deeds. 
 Thy trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own 1 
 Thou art their author and prime architect : 356 
 
 For I no sooner in my heart divined. 
 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, 361 
 
 Tho' distant from thee worlds between, yet felt 
 That I must after thee with this thy son ; 
 Such fatal consequence unites us three : 
 Hell could no longer hold us in her bounds, 365 
 
 Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure 
 Detain from following thy illustrious track. 
 Thou hast achieved our liberty, confined 
 ■^Vithin Hell-gates till now ; thou us impower'd 
 
 328. To avoid the observation of Uriel, the constellations ihfougrh 
 ivliich Satan passed being the most distant from Aries. 
 
238 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To fortify thus far, and overlay 370 
 
 With this portentous bridg-e the dark abyss. 
 
 Thine now is all this world ; thy virtue' hath won 
 
 What thy hands builded not ; thy wisdom gain'd 
 
 With odds what war hath lost, and fully 'venged 374 
 
 Our foil in Heav'n : here thou shalt monarch reign ; 
 
 There didst not ; there let him still victor sway. 
 
 As battle hath adjudged, from this new world 
 
 Retiring, by his own doom alienated. 
 
 And henceforth monarchy with thee divide 
 
 Of all things parted by th' empyreal bounds, 380 
 
 His quadrature, from thy orbicular world. 
 
 Or try thee now more dangerous to his throne. 
 
 Whom thus the Prince of darkness answer'd glad j 
 ^air Daughter, and thou Son and Grandchild both, 
 '' High proof ye now have given to be the race 385 
 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 Heav'n's door 
 Triumphal with triumphal act have met, 390 
 
 Mine with this glorious work, and made one realm 
 Hell and this world, one realm, one continent 
 Of easy thoroughfare. Therefore, while I 
 Descend through darkness, on your road with ease, 
 To my associate Pow'rs, them to acquaint 395 
 
 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, 400 
 
 Chiefly on Man, sole lord of all declared ; 
 Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill. 
 My substitutes I send ye,* and create 
 Plenipotent on earth, of matchless might 
 Issuing from me. On your joint vigour now 405 
 My hold of this nev/ kingdom all depends, 
 Through Sin to Death exposed by my exploit. 
 If your joint pow'r prevail, th' affairs of Hell 
 No detriment need fear. Go, and be strong. 
 
 So saying, he dismiss'd them ; they with speed 410 
 Their course through thickest constellations held, 
 
 aa". Antagonist, the meaning of the Hebrew word Satan 
 
BOOK X. 239 
 
 Spreading their bane ; the blasted stars look'd wan. 
 
 And planets, planet-struck, veal eclipse 
 
 Then suffer'd. Th' other way Satan went down 
 
 The causey to Hell-g-ate ; on either side 415 
 
 Disparted Chaos over-built exclaim'd. 
 
 And with rebounding surge the bars assail'd 
 
 That scorn'd his indignation. Through the gate. 
 
 Wide open and unguarded, Satan pass'd. 
 
 And all about found desolate ; for those 420 
 
 Appointed to sit there had left their charge, 
 
 Flown to the upper world ; the rest were all 
 
 Far to th' inland retired, about the walls 
 
 Of Pandemonium, city and pi'oud seat 
 
 Of Lucifer, so by allusion call'd, 425 
 
 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 emperor sent ; so he 
 
 Departing, gave command ; and they observed. 430 
 
 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 435 
 
 To Tauris or Casbeen, so these the late 
 
 Heav'n-banish'd host, left desert utmost Hell 
 
 Many a dark league, reduced in careful watch 
 
 Round their metropolis, and now expecting 
 
 Each hour their great advent'rer from the search 440 
 
 Of foreign worlds ; he through the midst, unmark'd, 
 
 In show plebeian Angel militant 
 
 Of lowest order, pass'd ; and from the door 
 
 Of that Plutonian hall, invisible. 
 
 Ascended his high throne, which under state 445 
 
 Of richest texture spread, at th* upper end 
 
 Was placed in regal lustre. Down a while 
 
 He sat, and round about him saw, unseen. 
 
 412. See Ovid, Met. ii. 791. 
 426. Paragon'd, from the Frencii partaigonner. 
 432. Astracan, a Inrj^e city in one of the islands of the Volga. 
 -•Sophi, the king of Persia, who is styled Bactrian, from one of 
 the richest of the Persian provinces. 
 
 435. Aladule, the greater Armenia. — Tauris, a city in Persia, 
 now called Ecbatana. — Casbeen, another great city in the .same 
 country. 
 
 R 
 
240 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 At last, as from a cloud, his fulgent head 
 
 And shape star-bright appear 'd, or brighter, clad 450 
 
 With what permissive g"lory since his fall 
 
 Was left him, or false glitter. All amazed 
 
 At that so sudden blaze, the Stygian throng 
 
 Bent their aspect, and whom they wish'd beheld. 
 
 Their mighty chief returned. Loud was th' acclaim : 
 
 Forth rush'd in haste the great consulting peers, 456 
 
 Raised from their dark Diyan, and with like joy 
 
 Oongratulant approach'd him, who with hand 
 
 Silence, and with these words attention won : 
 
 Thrones, Dominations,Princedoms, Virtues, Pow'rs, 
 For in possession such, not only' of right, 461 
 
 I call ye, and declare ye now, return'd 
 Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth 
 Triumphant out of this infernal pit 
 Abominable, accursed, the house of woe, 465 
 
 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 achieved. Long were to tell 
 What I have done, what suffer'd, with what pain 470 
 Voyaged th' unreal, vast, unbounded deep 
 Of horrible confusion, over which 
 By Sin and Death a broad way now is paved 
 To expedite your glorious march ; but I 
 Toil'd out my uncouth passage, forced to ride 475 
 Th' untractable abyss, plunged in the womb 
 Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wild. 
 That jealous of their secrets liercely opposed 
 My journey strange, with clamorous uproar 
 Protesting Fate supreme ; thence how I found 480 
 The new-created world, which fame in Heav'n 
 Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful. 
 Of absolute perfection, tlierein Man 
 Placed in a Paradise, by our exile 
 Made happy. Him by fraud I have seduced 485 
 From his Creator, and the more to' increase 
 Your wonder, with an apple ! He thereat 
 Offended (worth your laughter) hath given up 
 Both his beloved Man and all his world. 
 To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, 490 
 
 Without our hazard, labour, or alarm. 
 
BOOK X. 241 
 
 To range m, and to dwell, and over Man 
 
 To rul-e, as over all he should have ruled. 
 
 True is, me also he hath judged, or rather 
 
 Me not, but the brute Serpent, in whose shape 495 
 
 Man I deceived. 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, 500 
 
 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, a while he stood, expecting 
 Their universal shout and high applause 505 
 
 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, wond'ring at himself now more : 510 
 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 Pow'r 515 
 
 Now ruled 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 520 
 
 To his bold riot. Dreadful was the din 
 Of hissing through the hall, thick swarming now 
 With complicated monsters, head and tail, 
 Scoi-pion, and Asp, and Amphisbaena dire. 
 Cerastes horn'd, Hydrus, and Elops drear, 525 
 
 And Dipsas (not so thick swarm'd once the soil 
 
 504. The transformation of the fallen angels mentioned in this 
 passage is a fine invention, and one of those bold marvels which 
 80 well fit the nature of epic poetry. 
 
 513. Supplanted, here used in its orig-inal sense, from the 
 Latin supplantare, to trip up by the heels. 
 
 524. Amphisbasna t a serpent with a head at both ends of its 
 body; Cetastes, as here called, a horned snake ; Hydrxis, a water 
 foake; Elops, a serpent which gives no notice of its approach* 
 S4id Dipsas f one which occasions a feverish thirst by its bite. 
 
 M 
 
2^12 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Bedropt with "blood of Gorgon, or the isle 
 
 Ophiusa) ; but still greatest he the midst. 
 
 Now Dragon grown, larger than whom the son 
 
 Engender'd in the Pythian vale on slime, 530 
 
 Huge Python, and his pow'r no less he seem'd 
 
 Above the rest still to retain. They all 
 
 Him foUow'd, issuing forth to th' open field. 
 
 Where all yet left of that revolted rout 
 
 Heav'n-fall'n, in station stood or just array, 533 
 
 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, .540 
 
 They felt themselves now changing. Down their 
 
 arras, 
 Down fell both spear and shield, down they as fast. 
 And the dire hiss renew'd, 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, 546 
 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 550 
 Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve 
 Used by the Tempter. On that prospect strange 
 Their earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining 
 For one forbidden tree a multitude 
 Now risen, to work them further woe or shame ; 555 
 Yet parch'd with scalding thirst and hunger fierce. 
 Though to delude them sent, could not abstain. 
 But on they roU'd in heaps, and up the trees 
 Climbing, sat thicker than the snaky locks 
 That curl'd Megaera. Greedily they pluck'd 560 
 
 The fruitage, fair to sight, like that which grew 
 
 527. Lucan, Phars. ix. 696. in which the account is given of 
 Perseus slaying- the Gorg-on. — Ophiusa is an island in the Medi- 
 terranean, which was deserted by its inhabitants, on account of 
 the enormous multitude of serpents there. 
 
 530. The Python was a serpent said to have sprung frcm the 
 flime that was left after the Deucaliaji deluge. 
 560. Megceruy one of the furies. 
 
BOOK X 243 
 
 Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed ; 
 
 This more delusive, not tlie touch, but taste 
 
 Deceived : they fondly thinking to allay 
 
 Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit 565 
 
 Chew'd bitter ashes ; which th' offended taste 
 
 With spatt'ring noise rejected. Oft they' assay'd, 
 
 Hunger and thirst constraining, drugg'd as oft 
 
 With hatefullest disrelish, writhed their jaws 
 
 With soot and cinders fiU'd ; so oft they Ml 570 
 
 Into the same illusion, not as Man 
 
 Whom they triumph'd once lapsed. Thus were they 
 
 plagued 
 And worn with famin, long and ceaseless hiss, 
 Till their lost shape, permitted, they resumed ; 
 Yearly enjoiu'd, some say, to undergo 575 
 
 This annual humbling- certain number'd days. 
 To dash their pride, and joy for Man seduced. 
 However, some tradition they dispersed 
 Among the Heathen of their purchase got. 
 And fabled how the Sei-pent, whom they call'd 580 
 Ophion with Eurynome, the wide 
 Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule 
 Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driv'n 
 And Ops, ere yet Dictaean Jove was born. 
 
 Mean while, in Paradise the hellish pair 585 
 
 Too soon arrived, 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 : 590 
 
 562. It is said by Josephus that trees were to be seen about this 
 devoted spot, which bore fruit delicious to tlie eye, but falling 
 into ashes the moment it was touched. 
 
 573. Bentley reads xvith thirst and famin dire. 
 
 574. This idpa is supposed to have been taken from the old 
 romances, or from Ariosto, Can. 43. st. 98 
 
 581. So true it is that the most ancient mythologicr.1 fables bear 
 evident traces of having originated in traditions derived from 
 the scripture history. — Ophion, or the serpent, was undoubtedly 
 Satan; ant Enrynome, or the ivide-rtding, must have referred 
 to Eve, who was so calle-d from the ambitious desires with which 
 she eat the forbidden fruit. — Jortin says, Milton took the idea 
 from ApoUonius, i. 
 
 586. Silt inpowW, that is, there was a possibility of its betraying 
 man. Actual once, namely, when Adam really sinned ; and in 
 body, when it became always present and active. 
 590- Rev. vi. 8. 
 
244 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Second of Satan sprung, all-conqu'ring Death, 
 What think'st thou of our empire now, tho* earu'd 
 With travel difficult? Not hetter far 
 Than still at Hell's dark threshold to' have sat watch, 
 Unnamed, undreaded, and thyself half starved ? 595 
 
 Whom thus the Sin-born monster answer'd soon : 
 To me, who with eternal famine pine. 
 Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven ; 
 There best, where most with ravin T may meet ; 
 Which here, tho' plenteous, ail too little seems 600 
 To stuff this mav/, this vast unhide-bound corpse. 
 
 To whom the incestuous mother thus reply'd: 
 Thou therefore on these herbs, and fruits, and flow'rs, 
 Feed first, on each beast next, and fish, and fowl, 
 No homely morsels ; and whatever thing 605 
 
 Tiie scythe of Time mows down, devour unspared ; 
 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 sev'ral ways, 610 
 Both to destroy or uuimmortal 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 : 615 
 
 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 620 
 
 Folly to me ! So doth the prince of Hell 
 And his adherents, that with so much ease 
 1 sufl*er them to enter and possess 
 A idace so heav'nly, and conniving seem 
 To gratify my scornful enemies, 625 
 
 That laugh as if, transported with some fit 
 Of passion, I to them had quitted all, 
 At random yielded up to tleir misrule. 
 And know not that I call'd and drew them thither, 
 My Hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth 630 
 Which Man's polluting sin with taint hath shed 
 
 601. Unhidt-boundf not filled out, with a skin hanging 
 looBe uud flabby. 
 
BOOK X. 245 
 
 On what was pure, till cramm'd and gorged, nigh 
 
 With suck'd and glutted offal, at one sling [burst 
 
 Of thy victorious arm, well -pleasing Son, 
 
 Both Sin, and Death, and yawning Grave at last 635 
 
 Thro' 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 pronounced on both pi'ecedes. 640 
 
 He ended, and the heav'nly audience loud 
 Sung Halleluiah, as the sound of seas. 
 Through multitude that sung: Just are thy ways, 
 Righteous are thy decrees on all thy works ; 
 Who can extenuate thee ! Next, to the Son, 645 
 Destined Restorer of mankind, by whom 
 New Heav'n and Earth shall to the ages rise. 
 Or down from Heav'n descend. Such was their song. 
 While the Creator, calling foi'th by name 
 His niighty Angels, gave them several charge, 650 
 As sorted best with present things. The sun 
 Had first his precept so to move, so shine. 
 As might affect the earth with cold and heat 
 Scarce tolerable ; and from the north to call 
 Decrepit winter ; from the south to bring 655 
 
 Solstitial summer's heat. To the blank moon 
 Her office they prescribed ; to th' other five 
 Their planetary motions and aspects 
 In sextile, square, and trine, and opposite 
 Of noxious efficacy, and when to join 660 
 
 In synod unbenign ; and taught the fix'd 
 Their influence malignant when to show'r. 
 Which of them I'ising with the sun, or falling, 
 Should prove tempestuous ; to the winds they set 
 Their corners, when with bluster to confound 665 
 Sea, air, and shore, the thunder when to roll 
 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 670 
 Oblique the centric globe. Some say, the sun 
 Was bid turn reina from th' equinoctial road 
 
 643. Rev. XV. 3. xvi. 7. 647. Rev. xxi. 2. 
 
 666. Blank moon, like the French word blanc, white* 
 
246 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Like distant breadth to Taurus with the seTen 
 
 Atlantic Sisters, and the Spartan Twins 
 
 Up to the Tropic Crab ; thence down amain 675 
 
 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 smiled on earth with verdant llow'rs. 
 
 Equal in days aiid nights, except to those d80 
 
 Beyond the polar circles ; to them day 
 
 Had unbenig-hted shone, while the low sun, 
 
 To recompense his distance, in their sight 
 
 Had rounded still th' horizon, and not known 
 
 Or east or west, which had forbid the snow 685 
 
 From cold Estotiland, and south as far 
 
 Beneath Magellan. At that tasted fruit 
 
 The sun, as from Thyestean banquet, turn'd 
 
 His course intended ; else how had the world 
 
 Inhabited, though sinless, more than now, 690 
 
 Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat ? 
 
 These changes in the Heav'ns, tho' slow, produced 
 
 Like change on sea and land ; sideral blast, 
 
 Vapour and mist, and exhalation hot. 
 
 Corrupt and pestilent : now from the north 695 
 
 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 C^cias, and Argestes loud, 
 
 And Thrascias, rend the woods, and seas upturn; 700 
 
 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 Levant and the Ponent winds, 
 
 Eurus and Zephyr, with their lateral noise, 705 
 
 Sirocco and Libecchio. Thus began 
 
 Outrage from lifeless things ; but Discord, first, 
 
 686. Estotiland, a country in North America, near Hudson's 
 Bay. — Magellan, a part of South America. 
 
 688. Thyestean bcmquel ; Thyestts is said to have been ban- 
 queted by' Ills brother on the bodies of his murdered cliildren. 
 
 696. Nornmheg a , a province of North America. — Saynoieda, a 
 province of Muscovy. 
 
 699. The names of the north, north-west, north-east, the south, 
 and soi;th-west winds. — Serraliona, a range of mountains to the 
 south-west of Africa. — Sirocco and Libecchio^ the south-east and 
 south-wect winds. 
 
BOOK X. 247 ^S^ 
 
 Daughter of Sin, among th' irrational. 
 Death introduced, through fierce antipathy. 
 Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl. 
 And fish with fish ; to graze the herb allleaving, 711 
 Devour'd each other ; nor stood much in awe 
 Of man, but fled him, or with count'nance grim 
 Glared on him passing. These were from without 
 The growing miseries, which Adam saw 715 
 
 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 720 
 
 Of this new glorious world, and me so late 
 The glory of that glory, who now, become 
 Accursed of blessed, hide me from the face 
 01 God, whom to behold was then my height 
 Of happiness? Yet well, if here would end 725 
 
 The misery. I deserved it, and would bear 
 My own deservings ; but this will not serve ; 
 All that t eat or drink, or shall beget. 
 Is propagated curse ! O voice once heard 
 Delightfully, ' Increase and multiply,' 7?0 
 
 Now death to hear 1 For what can I increase 
 Or multiply, but curses on my head ! 
 Who, of all ages to succeed, but feeling 
 The evil on him bi'ought by me, will curse 
 My head ! Ill fare our ancestor impure ! 735 
 
 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 740 
 
 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 1 Did I solicit thee 
 From darkness to pronaote me, or here place 745 
 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 ; 
 
 740. Bentley proposes to cut out the following ten lines as Ul> 
 worthy of Milton's genius and a dttriinent to the poem. 
 
248 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Desirous to resign and render back 
 
 All I received, unable to perform 750 
 
 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 755 
 
 T thus contest : then should have been refused 
 
 Those terms whatever, when they were proposed. 
 
 Thou didst accept them. Wilt thou' enjoy the good, 
 
 Then cavil the conditions 1 And though God 
 
 Made thee without thy leave, what if thy son 760 
 
 Prove disobedient, and reproved, 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. 765 
 
 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 ?hall to dust return. 770 
 
 O welcome hour whenever ! Why delays 
 
 His hand to execute what his decree 
 
 Fix'd on this day ? Why do T overlive, 
 
 Why am I mock'd with death, and lengthen'd out 
 
 To deathless pain ? How gladly would I meet 775 
 
 Mortality, my sentence, and be earth 
 
 Insensible I How glad would lay me down, 
 
 A-s 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 780 
 
 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 inspired, cannot together perish 785 
 
 With this corporeal clod ! then m the grave. 
 
 Or in some other dismal place, who knows 
 
 But I shall die a living death i O thought 
 
 Horrid, if true ! Yet why ? It was but breath 
 
 Of life that sinn'd. What dies but what had life 7W 
 
 And sin 1 the body, properly, hath neither. 
 
 All of me then shall die. Let this appease 
 
BOOK X. 24D 
 
 ITie doubt, since human reach no further knows ; 
 
 For though the Lord of all be infinite. 
 
 Is his wrath also 1 Be it, Man is not so, 795 
 
 But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise 
 
 Wrath without end on Man whom death must end 1 
 
 Can he make deathless death 1 That were to make 
 
 Strange contradiction, which to God himself 
 
 Impossible is held ; as argument 800 
 
 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, 805 
 
 By which all causes else, according still 
 
 To the reception of their matter, act ; 
 
 Not to th' extent of their ov/n sphere. But say 
 
 That death be not one stroke, as I supposed, 
 
 Bereaving sense, but endless misery 810 
 
 Prom this day onward, which I feel begun 
 
 Both in me and without me, and so last 
 
 To perpetuity ! Ah me ! that fear 
 
 Comes tlmnd'ring back with dreadful revolution 
 
 On my defenceless head ! Both Death and I 815 
 
 Am found eternal, and incorporate both ! 
 
 Nor I on my part single : in me all 
 
 Posterity stands cursed ! Fair Patrimony 
 
 That I must leave ye, Sons ! O were I able 
 
 To waste it all myself, and leave ye none .' 820 
 
 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 depraved ; 
 
 Not to do only, but to will the same 826 
 
 With me ! How can they then acquitted stand 
 
 In sight of God ? Him, after all disputes 
 
 Forced, I absolve. All my evasions vain. 
 
 And reasonings, tho' through mazes, lead me still 830 
 
 But to my own conviction. First and last 
 
 On me, me only, as the source and spring 
 
 Of all corruption, all the blame lights due : 
 
 805. Jnst is proposed insteiid of dust, in this line. 
 
 806. An incessant affectati. .i of school learning may be ns 
 liiarked in every part of this passtige. 
 
 816. Rom. vii. 20. 825. Rom. xiv. 4. 
 
250 PARADISE LuST. 
 
 So niiglit the wrath. Fond wish ! couldst thou support 
 That burden, heavier than the earth to bear, 835 
 Than all the world much heavier, though divided 
 With that bad Woman ! Thus, what thou desirest 
 And what thou fear'st, alike destroys all hope 
 Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable 
 Beyond all past example and future : 84fl 
 
 To Satan only like, both crime and doom. 
 
 Conscience ! into what abyss of fears 
 
 And horrors hast thou driven me ! out of which 
 
 1 jftnd no way ! from deep to deeper plunged I 
 Thus Adam to himself lamented loud 845 
 
 Through the still night, not now, as ere Man fell, 
 
 Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black air 
 
 Accompany 'd, with damps and dreadful gloom, 
 
 Which to his evil conscience represented 
 
 All thing's with double terror. On the g-round 850 
 
 Outstretch'd he lay, on the cold g-round, and oft 
 
 Cursed his creation ; Death as oft accused 
 
 Of tardy execution, since denounced 
 
 The day of his offence. Why comes not Death, 
 
 Said he, with one thrice-acceptable stroke, S55 
 
 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 ! 
 
 woods, fountains, hiilocs, dales, and bow'rs, 860 
 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 woi'ds to his fierce passion she assa,y'd : 865 
 
 But her with stern regard he thus repell'd : 
 
 Out of my sight, thou Serpent ! that name best 
 Befits thee v/ith him leagued, thyself as false 
 And hateful! nothin- wants, but that thy shape 
 Like his, and colour serpentiiie, may shew 870 
 
 Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee 
 Henceforth, lest that too heav'nly form, pretended 
 To hellish falsehood, snare them. But for thee 
 
 1 had persisted happy', had not thy pride 
 
 And wand'rinj^ vanity, when least was safe, 875 
 
 872. Pretended; in the Latin sense, held before* 
 
BOOK X, 261 
 
 Rejected my forewarning", and disdained 
 Not to be trusted, longing- to be seen 
 Though by the Devil himself, him overweening 
 To o'er-reach, hut with the Serpent meeting 
 Fool'd and beguiled, by him thou, I by thee, 880 
 To trust thee from my side, imagined 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, 885 
 
 More to the part sinister, from me drawn, 
 Well if thrown out, as supernumerary 
 To my just number found. O why did God 
 Creator wise, that peopled highest Heav'a 
 With Spirits masculine, create at last 890 
 
 This novelty on earth, this fair defect 
 Of nature, and not fill the world at once 
 With Men, as Angels, without feminine. 
 Or find some other way to generate 
 Mankind 1 This miscliief had not then befall'n, 895 
 And more that shall befall, innumerable 
 Disturbances on earth, through female snares. 
 And straight conjunction with this sex : for either 
 He never shall find out fit mate, but such 
 As some misfortune brings him, or mistake ; 900 
 
 Or wliom he wishes most shall seldom gain, 
 Through her perverseness, but shall see her g-ain'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 905 
 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 repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing. 
 And tresses all disorder'd, at his feet 911 
 
 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 rev'renfie in my heart 91 
 I boar thee, and unweeting have offended, 
 Untiai»pily deceived ! Thy suppliant 
 ^ beg^, and cla^p thy knees. Bereave me not. 
 
252 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid. 
 
 Thy counsel in this uttermost distress, 920 
 
 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 925 
 
 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 sinn'd ; but thou 930 
 
 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 removed, may light 
 
 On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe I 935 
 
 Me, me only, just object of his ire. 
 
 She ended weeping ; and her lowly plight, 
 Immoveable till peace obtain'd from fault 
 Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought 
 Connnise ration. Soon his heart relented 940 
 
 Tow'rds her, his life so late and sole delight, 
 Now at his feet submissive in distress. 
 Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking, 
 His counsel, v/hom she had displeased, his aid ; 
 As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost, 945 
 
 And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon : 
 
 Unwary' and too desirous, as before. 
 So now of what thou know'st not, Avho desir*st 
 The punishment all on thyself ; alas. 
 Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain 950 
 
 His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part. 
 And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If pray'rs 
 Could alter high decrees, I to that place 
 Would speed before thee, and be louder heard. 
 That on my head all might be visited ; 955 
 
 Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven, 
 To me committed, and by me exposed. 
 But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame 
 
 940. It is said that Milton had a personal feeling in writing thii 
 passao-e, and described his meeting and reconciliation with his 
 wife who had been for some time separated from him. 
 
BOOK X. 25a 
 
 Each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive 
 
 In offices of love, how ^ve may lighten 960 
 
 Each other's burden, in our share of woe ; 
 
 Since this day's death denounced, if aught I see. 
 
 Will prove no sudden, but a slow-paced evil, 
 
 A long day's dying to augment our pain, 
 
 And to our seed (O hnpless seed!) derived. 9d5 
 
 To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, repiy'd : 
 Adam> by sad experiment, I know 
 How little weight my woi^ds with thee can iind, 
 Found so en-one ous, thence by just event 
 Found so unfortunate ! nevertheless, 970 
 
 Restored 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 imquiet breast are risen, 9? 5 
 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 woe, devour'd 980 
 By Death at last ; and miserable it is 
 To be to othei-s cause @f misery, 
 Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring 
 Into this cursed world a woeful race ! 
 That after wretched life, must be at last 935 
 
 Food for so foul a monster! In thy pow'r 
 It lies, yet ere conception, to prevent 
 The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. 
 Childless thou art, childless remain ; so Death 
 Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two 990 
 
 Be forced to satisfy his rav'nous 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, 995 
 
 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; 1000 
 Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply 
 
254 PARADISE LOST 
 
 With our own hands his oflace on ourselves. 
 Why stand we long-ei shivering under fears. 
 That shew no end bixt death, and have the pow'r 
 Of many ways to die, the shortest choosing, 1005 
 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 dyed her cheeks with pale. 
 But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd : 1010 
 To better hopes his more attentive mind 
 Labouring had raised, and thus to Eve replied : 
 
 Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems 
 To argue in thee something more sublime 
 And excellent than what thy mind contemns ; 1015 
 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 overloved. 
 Or if thou covet death, as utmost end 102t 
 
 Of misery, so thinking to evade 
 The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God 
 Hath wiselicr 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 1025 
 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 
 Some safer resolution, which methinks 
 I have in view, calling to mind with heed 1030 
 
 Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise 
 The Serpent's head. Piteous amends ! unless 
 Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe 
 Satan, who in the serpent hath contrived 
 Against us this deceit. To crush his head 1035 
 
 Would be revenge indeed : which will be lost 
 By death brought on ourselves, or childless days 
 Resolved, as thou proposest ; so our foe 
 Shall 'scape his punishment ordain'd, and we 
 Instead, shall double ours upon our heads. 1040 
 
 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 just yoke 1043 
 
BOOK X 255 
 
 Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild 
 
 And gTacious temper he both heard and judged, 
 
 Without wrath or reviling- ! We expected 
 
 Immediate dissolution, which we thought 
 
 Was meant by death that day ; when lo ! to thee 1050 
 
 Pains only in child-bearing were foretold. 
 
 And In-inging forth ; soon recompensed with joy. 
 
 Fruit of thy womb. On me the curse aslope 
 
 Glanced on the ground. With labour I must earn 
 
 My bread. What harm? Idleness had been worse : 
 
 My labour will sustain me. And lest cold 1056 
 
 Or heat should injure us, his timely care 
 
 Hath unbesought provided, and his hands 
 
 Cloth'd us, unworthy, pitying while he judged ; 
 
 How much more, if we pray him, will his ear 1060 
 
 Be open, and his heart to pity' incline, 
 
 And teach us farther by what means to shun 
 
 Th' inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow ! 
 
 Which now the sky wdth various face begins 
 
 To shew us in this mountain, while the winds 1065 
 
 Blow moist and keen, shatt'ring the graceful locks 
 
 Of these fair spreading trees ; which bids us seek 
 
 Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish 
 
 Our limbs benumb'd, ere this diurnal star 
 
 Leave cold the night, how we his gather'd beams 1070 
 
 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 ilame driv'n 
 
 Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine, [down 
 
 And sends a comfortable heat from far. 
 
 Which might supply the sun. Such fire to use, 
 
 And what may else be remedy or cure 
 
 To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, 1080 
 
 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 comfoi'ts, till we end 
 
 In dust: our final rest and native home. 1085 
 
 What better can we do, than to the place 
 
 Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall 
 
 1069. Diurnal star, the sun. 10-5. Ttne, to light or kindle. 
 
256 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Before him, reverent, and thet-e confess 
 Humbly our faults, and pardon be_'-, with tears 
 Watering- the ground, and with our sighs the air 10i>0 
 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, 1095 
 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 judged them, prostrate fell 
 Before him, reverent, and both confess'd 1100 
 
 Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd, with tears 
 Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
 Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
 Of sorrow' unfeign'd, and humiliation meek. 
 
 BOOK XI. 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 'Fhe Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first 
 parents, now repentinsr, and intercedes for theVn : God accepts 
 them, but declares that tiiey must no longer abide In l\ara(Use; 
 sends iNliehael with a band of Cherubim to dispossess llieni ; but 
 first to reveal to Adam future things: Michael's coming down. 
 Adam shews to Eve certain ominous signs ; he discerns Michael's 
 approach; goes out to meet him : the Angel denounces their de- 
 parture. Eve's lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits : The 
 Ant'e! leads him up to a liigh hill ; sets before him in vision what 
 shall happen till the Hood. 
 
 Thus they in lowliest plight, repentant, stood 
 
 Praying ; for from the mercy-seat above 
 
 Prevenient grace descending, had removed 
 
 The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh 
 
 Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breathed 5 
 
 Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer 
 
 Inspired, and wing'd for Heav'n Avith speedier flight 
 
 Than loudest oratory : yet their port 
 
 Not of mean suitors, nor important less 
 
 Seem'd their petition, than when th' ancient pair 10 
 
 In fables old, less ancient yet than these, 
 
 1092. Hutniliation , the act of humbling, not humility. 
 4. A verbal critic might I think find fault with tiiis and the fol 
 lowing line, in which there are three words used to express one 
 idea, new, regenerate, and instead. 
 
liJlTi Pai'arli.s 
 
BOOK XI. 257 
 
 Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore 
 
 The race of mankind drown'd, before the shrine 
 
 Of 1 hemis stood devout. To Heav'n their pray'rs 
 
 Flew up; nor niiss'd the way, by envious winds 15 
 
 Blown vag-abond or frustrate. In they pass'd 
 
 Dimensionless, through heav'nly doors ; then clad 
 
 With incense, where the g'olden altar fumed, 
 
 By their great Intercessor, came in sight 
 
 Before the Father's throne : then the glad Son 20 
 
 Presenting-, thus to intercede beg-an : 
 
 See, Father, what first fruits on earth are sprung 
 From thy implanted g'race in Man .' these sig'hs 
 And pray'rs, which in this golden censer, mix'd 
 With incense, I thy priest before thee bring: 2S> 
 
 Fruits of more pleasing- savour from thy seed 
 Sown with contrition in his heart, than those 
 Which his own hand manuring*, ail the trees 
 Of Paradise could have produced, ere fallen 
 From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear 30 
 To supplication ; hear his sighs though mute. 
 Unskilful with what v*"ords to pray, let me 
 Interpi-et for him, me his Advocate 
 And propitiation. All his v/crks on me, 
 Good or not good, ingraft ; my merit those 35 
 
 Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay. 
 Accept me, and in me from these receive 
 The smell of peace tow'rd mankind. Let him live 
 Before thee reconciled, at least his days 
 Number'd. tbo' sad, tiJl dtath, his doom (which 1 40 
 To mitig'ate 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 : 45 
 All thy request for Man, accepted Son, 
 Obtain : all thy request was my di'.cree. 
 But longer in that Paradise to dwell, 
 
 12. Deucalion ard his wife, it is said by the poets, were th-? 
 only reniajiis of the human race left after 'the Hood, which hap- 
 pened in their time. This fable had evidently its origin in a tra- 
 ditionary account of the g-reat deluge. — Themis was the godtlto* 
 of justice. See Ovid, Met. i. 318. 
 
 16. Vagabond, from the Latin vago, to wander. 
 
 33. 1 John ii. 1, 2, ' 38. Levit. iii, J-- 
 
 44. John xvii. 21, 22. 
 
258 Pi^RADlSE LOST. 
 
 The law I g'ave to nature him forbids : 
 
 Those pure immortal elements that know 50 
 
 No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul, 
 
 Eject him, tainted now, and purge him off 
 
 As a distemper, gross to air as gross ; 
 
 And mortal food, as may dispose him best 
 
 For dissolution wrought by sin, that first 55 
 
 Distemper'd all things, and of incorrupt 
 
 Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts 
 
 Created him endow'd ; with happiness 
 
 And immortality : that fondly lost. 
 
 This other served but to eternize woe ; 60 
 
 Till I provided death ; so death becomes 
 
 His final remedy, and after life. 
 
 Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined 
 
 By faith and faithful works to second life, 
 
 Waked in the renovation of the just 65 
 
 Resigns him up with Heav'n and Earth renewed. 
 
 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 T proceed, 
 As how with peccant Angels late they saw, 70 
 
 And in tlieir state, tho' 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 Gcd descended, and perhaps once more 75 
 To sound at general doom) : th' angelic blast 
 Fill'd all the regions. From their blissful bow'rs 
 Of amarantine shade, fountain or spring, 
 By the waters of life, where'er they sat 
 In fellowships of joy, the sons of light 80 
 
 Hasted, resorting to the summons high, 
 And took their seats ; till from his throne supreme 
 Th' Almighty thus pronounced his Sov'reign will : 
 
 O Sons ! like one of us Man is become. 
 To know both good and evil, since his taste 85 
 
 Of that defended fruit! but let him boast 
 His knowledge of good lost, and evil got : 
 
 74. Exod. xx. 18.. 1 Thess. iv. 16. 
 
 82. Rev. iv. 4. xi. 16. Matt. xix. 28. 84. Gen. iii. 22—34. 
 
 86. Defended, like the French defendret to forbid. 
 
BCOK XL 259 
 
 Happier, had it sufficed him to have known 
 
 (jood by itself, and evil not all. 
 
 He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite, 90 
 
 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 95 
 
 For ever) to remove him I decree. 
 
 And send him from the garden forth to till 
 
 The ground whence he was taken : titter soil. 
 
 Michael, this my behest have thou in charge : 
 Take to thee from among the Cherubim 100 
 
 Thy choice of flaming warriors, lest the Fiend, 
 Or in behalf of Man, or to invade 
 Vacant possession, some new trouble raise. 
 Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God, 
 Without remorse, drive out the sinful pair 105 
 
 (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 urged, 
 For I behold them soften'd, and with tears 110 
 
 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 1 shall thee enlighten. Intermix 115 
 
 My cov'nant in the Woman's seed renew'd ; 
 So send them forth, tho' 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 120 
 
 Wide-waving, all approach far off to fright, 
 And guard all passage to the tree of life. 
 Lest Paradise a receptacle prove 
 
 To spirits foul, and all my trees their prey, 124 
 
 With whose stol'n fruit Man once more to delude. 
 
 He ceased ; and th' Archangelic Pow'r prepared 
 For swift descent, with him the cohort bright 
 Of watchful Cherubim. Four faces each 
 Had, like a double Janus : all their shape 
 128. Ezek. X. 14« 
 
200 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 ^>pangled with eyes, more numerous than those 13( 
 Of Arg-us, and more wakeful than to drowse, 
 Charm'd with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed 
 Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Mean while 
 To re-salute the world with sacred light, 
 Leacothea waked, and with fresh dews imbalm'd 135 
 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 : 140 
 
 Eve, easily may faith admit, that all 
 The good which we enjoy, from Heav'n desceuds ; 
 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, 145 
 
 Hard to belief may seem; yet this will prayer, 
 Or one short sigh of human breath, Tipborne 
 Ev'n to the seat of God ! For since I sought 
 By prayer th' offended Deity to' appease, 
 Kneel'd, and before him humbled all my heart, 150 
 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 ; 155 
 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 160 
 
 Man is to live, and all things live for Man i 
 
 To whom thus Eve, with sad demeanour meek : 
 111 v/orthy I such title should belong- 
 To me transgressor, who, for thee ordain'd 
 A help, became thy snare ! To me reproach 165 
 
 131. Argus, it is said, was lulled to sleep, and then killed by 
 Mercurv. 
 
 135. Leucothea; the morning-, so railed from two Greek wordj 
 gignifying light and goddess. This is the last niornir."- in the 
 poem, and is supposed to be the conjmencenieut of the eleventh 
 day in the action on earth. 
 
 157. 1 Sam. XV. 32. 
 
 159. Gen. iii. 20. Eve is from an Hebrew word signifying 
 
 lifef or to live. 
 
BOOK XT. 261 
 
 Rather belongs, distrust, and all dispraise I 
 
 But infinite in pardon was my Judge, 
 
 That I, who first brought death on all, am graced 
 
 The source of life ; next favourable thou, 
 
 Who highly thus to' entitle me vouchsaf'st, 170 
 
 Far other name deserving. But the field 
 
 To labour calls us, now with sweat imposed, 
 
 Though after sleepless night; for, see, the morn. 
 
 All uiiconcern'd v/ith our unrest, begins 
 
 Her rosy progress smiling: let us forth, 175 
 
 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. 180 
 
 So spake, so wish'd inuch-humbled Eve, but Fa'^e 
 Subscribed not. Nature first gave signs, impressed 
 On bird, beast, air, air suddenly eclipsed 
 After short blush of morn. Nigh in her sight 
 The bii'd of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour, 185 
 
 Two birds of gayest plume before him drove. 
 Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, 
 First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace. 
 Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind: 
 Direct to th' eastern gate Avas bent their flight. 190 
 Adam observed, and with his eye the chase 
 Pursuing, not unmoved, to Eve thus spake : 
 
 Eve, some further change awaits us nigh. 
 Which Heav'n by these mute signs in nature shews, 
 Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn 195 
 
 Us haply, too secure of our discharge 
 From penalty, because from death released 
 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 ? 200 
 
 VVhy else this double object in our sight 
 Of flight pursued in th' air, and o'er the ground 
 One way the self-same hour? Why in the east 
 Darknest ere day's mid-course, and morning light 
 More orient in yon western clomd, that draws 2Qh 
 O'er the blue firmament a radiant white, 
 
 182. Subscribed not, consented not. 
 204. See Marino, Can. 2. st. 6' . 
 
262 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And slow descends,witli sometliing- heav nly fraught ? 
 
 He eri''d not ; for by this tlie heav'nly bands 
 Down from a sky of jasper lighted now 
 In Paradise, and on a hill made halt, 210 
 
 A glorious apparition, had not doubt 
 And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adam's eye. 
 Not that more glorious, v^hen the Ang-els met 
 Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw 
 The field pavilion'd with his g-uardians bright ; 215 
 Nor that which on the flaming- mount appear'd 
 In Dothan, cover'd with a camp of fire, 
 Ag-ainst the Syrian king, who, to surprise 
 One man, assassin-like, had levied war. 
 War unproclaim'd. The princely Hierarcli 220 
 
 In their bright stand there left his Povv'rs to seize 
 Possession of the garden : he alone. 
 To find where Adam shelter'd, took his way, 
 Not iinperceived of Adam, who to Eve, 
 While the great visitant approach 'd, thus spake : U!?.5 
 
 Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps 
 Of us will soon determine, or impose 
 New laws to be observed ; for I descry 
 From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill, 
 One of the heav'nly host, and by his gait 230 
 
 None of the meanest, some great Potentate 
 Or of the Thrones above, such majesty 
 Invests his coming; yet not terrible, 
 That I should fear, nor sociably mild, 
 As Raphael, that I should much confide, 235 
 
 But solemn and sublime ; whom not to' oflend. 
 With reverence I must meet, and thou retire. 
 
 He ended : and th' Arch-Angel soon drew nigh. 
 Not in his shape celestial, but as man 
 Clad to meet man. Over his lucid arms 240 
 
 A military vest of purple flow'd. 
 Livelier than Meliboean, or the grain 
 Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old 
 In time of truce ; Iris had dipt the woof; 
 His starry helm unbuckled, shew'd him prime 245 
 
 213. Gen. xxxii. 1,2. 2 Kiii2:s vi. l.'i. 
 
 242. The famous scarlet dye celebrated ainonj? the ancisiits waj 
 
 made from a fish called ost'rum, found near Melibma, a oit)' of 
 
 Thessaly. — Sar was the name of the fish of which the riicenicians 
 
 made the famous Tyrian purple. 
 
B }0K XI. 263 
 
 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 
 Inclined not, but his coming- thus declared : 250 
 
 Adam, Heav'n's high behest no preface needs : 
 Sufficient that thy pray'rs are heard, and Death, 
 Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress. 
 Defeated of his seizure, many days 
 Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou raay'st repent, 255 
 And one bad act, with many deeds well done, 
 May'st cover : well may then thy Lord, appeased. 
 Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim ; 
 But longer in this Paradise to dwell 
 Permits not. To remove thee I am come, 260 
 
 And send thee from the g-arden forth to till 
 The g-round, 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 265 
 Yet all had heard, with audible lament, 
 Discover'd soon the place of her retire. 
 
 O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death i 
 Must I thus leave thee. Paradise ! thus leave 
 Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, 270 
 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 flow'rs. 
 That never will in other climate grow. 
 My early visitation, and my last 275 
 
 At e'en, which I bred up with tender hand 
 From the first opening bud, and ga^^e ye names, 
 Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
 Your tribes, and water from th* ambrosial fount 1 
 Thee lastly, nuptial bower by me adorn'd 280 
 
 With what to sight or smell v/as sweet, from thee 
 How shall I part, and whither wander down 
 
 281. The rejtetition of the messag-e in the same words in which 
 It was given is common in classical writers, and, it may be added, 
 in those of Scripture al^^o. 
 
 2t>8. It has been excellently remarked by Addison, that there is 
 gT; at beai'.ty in Eve's thus exprest-ing' her sorrow at leaving the 
 garden of Paradise. Fitness and aW the beauties of propriety are 
 iiiJctd to be found in every line of this part rf the poem. 
 
264 PARADISE LOST, 
 
 Into a lower world, to tliis obscure 
 
 And wild I How shall we breathe in other air, 
 
 Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits ! 285 
 
 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 2S0 
 
 Thy husband ; him to follow thou art bound. 
 Where he abides, think, there thy native soil. 
 
 Adam by this from the cold sudden damp 
 Ilecov'ring, and his scatter'd spirits return'd. 
 To Michael thus his humble words address'd : 295 
 
 Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or named 
 Of them the high'st, for such of shape may seem 
 Prince above princes, gently hast thou told 
 Thy message, which might else in telling wound, 
 And in performing end us. What besides 300 
 
 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 305 
 
 Inhospitable' appear and desolate ; 
 Nor knowing us nor known : and if by prayer 
 Incessant I could hope to change the will 
 Of Him who all things can, I Avould not cease 
 To weary him with my assiduous cries. 310 
 
 But prayer against his absoiate 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, 315 
 
 As from his face I shall be hid, deprived 
 His blessed count'nance. Here I could frequent 
 With worship place by place where he vouchsafed 
 Presence divine, and to my sons relate, 
 On this mount he appear'd; under this tree 320 
 
 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 tvirf, and pile up every stone 
 Of lustre from the brook, in' memory 325 
 
BOOK XL 26S 
 
 Or monument to ages, and thereon 
 
 Oifer sweet-smelling- g-ums, and fruits, and flow'ra. 
 
 In yonder nether world, where shall I seek 
 
 His bright appearances, or foot-step trace ? 
 
 For though I fled him angry, yet re-call'd 330 
 
 To life prolong-'d and promised race, I now 
 Cladly behold, thoug-h but his utmost skirts 
 Of g-lory, and far off his steps adore. 
 
 To whom thus Michael, with regard benig-n : 
 Adam, thou know'st Heav'n his, and all the Earth, 
 Not this rock only'. His omnipresence fills 336 
 
 La]id, sea, and air, and every kind that lives. 
 Fomented by his vii'tual pow'r and warm'd. 
 All th' earth he gave thee to possess and rule : 
 No despicable gift : surmise not then 340 
 
 His presence to these narrow bounds confined 
 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 345 
 
 And rev'rence thee, their great progenitor. 
 Rut this pre-eminence thou'st lost; brought down 
 ^JliL^dwell on even ground now with thy sons. 
 ^Yet doubt not, but in valley and in plain 
 ^^od is as here, and will be found alike 350 
 
 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 divin^-i-' 
 Which, that thou may'st believe, aiidbe confirm'd 
 Ere thou from hence depart, know I am sent 356 
 To shew thee what shall come in future days 
 To thee and to thy offspring. Good with bad 
 Expect to hear, supernal grace contending 
 With sinixilness of men ; thereby to learn 360 
 
 True patience, and to temper joy with fear 
 And pious sorrow, equally inured 
 By moderation either state to bear. 
 Prosperous or adverse : so shalt thou lead 
 Safest thy life, and, best prepared, endure 36/ 
 
 Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend 
 This hill. Let Eve (for I have drench'd her eyes; 
 332. Exod. xxxiii. 22, 23. 
 
 N 
 
266 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Here sleep below, while thou to foresight wak'st ; 
 
 As once thou sleptst, while she to life was form'd. 
 
 To whom thus Adam g-iatefully reply'd : 37C 
 
 Ascend , I follow thee, safe Ouide, the path 
 Thou lead'st me', and to the hand of Heav'n submit, 
 However chasfning, to the evil turn 
 My obvious breast, arming to overcome 
 By suff'ring, and earn rest from labour won, 375 
 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, 381 
 Whereon for diff'rent cause the Tempter set 
 Our second Adam in the wilderness, 
 To shew him all earth's kingdoms and their glory. 
 His eye might there command wherever stood 385 
 City of old or modern fame, the seat 
 Of mightiest empire, from the destined walls 
 Of Cambalu, seat of Cathaian Can, 
 And Sam arc and by Ox us, Temir's throne, 
 To Paquin of Sina^an kings, and thence 390 
 
 To Agra and Lahore of great Mogul, 
 Down to the golden Chersonese, or where 
 The Persian in Ecbatan sat, or since 
 In H Ispahan, or where the Russian Czar 
 In Moscow, or the Sultan in Bizance, 395 
 
 Turchestan-born ; nor could his eye not ken 
 Th' empire of Negus to his utmost port 
 Ercoco, and the less maritime kings. 
 Mom baza, and Quiloa, and Melind, i 
 
 381. Matt. iv. 8. ^■'^ 
 
 387. There is here another instance of Milton's supposed affec 
 tation of learning'. I <lo not conceive either this, or any of the 
 other passages mentioned, to be so. To a mere cursory or id e 
 reader it may seem a dry geographical catalogue, but it should 
 be observed, that the countnce mentioned recall by their names 
 some of the most brilliant passasres of history, and thus fill the 
 page with the jrorgeousness and maarnificence of olden tradition. 
 An observation hence occurs, which must at once strike the 
 reader, that fullv to enjoy Milton in all his excellences, much 
 various knowledge is necessary. The simplest account we could 
 here srive of the several countries mentioned in these lines would 
 occupy too large a space for the size of the work, and would 
 certainly not aid the reader in understanding better than at first 
 the various allusions the passage preseuts. 
 
BOOK XI. 267 
 
 A^nd Sofala, thought Ophir, to the realm 40* 
 
 Of Cong-o, and Ang-ola 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 406 
 
 Rich Mexico, the seat of lUonte/Aime, 
 
 And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat 
 
 Of Atabalipa, and yet unspoil'd 
 
 Guiana, whose great city Geryon's sons 410 
 
 Call El Dorado : but to nobler sights 
 
 Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed. 
 
 Which that false fruit, that promised clearer sight, 
 
 Had bred ; then purged with euphrasy and rue 
 
 The visual nerve, for he had much to see ; 415 
 
 And from the well of life three drops instill'd. 
 
 So deep the pcw'r of these ingredients pierced, 
 
 E'en to the inmost seat of mental sight, 
 
 That Adam, now enforced to close his eyes. 
 
 Sunk down, and all his spirits became entranced ; 
 
 But him the gentle Angel by the hand 42! 
 
 Soon raised, and his attention thus recall'd: 
 
 Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold 
 Th' eifects which thy original crime hath wi'ought 
 In some to spring from thee, who never touch'd 425 
 Th' excepted tree, nor with the snake conspired. 
 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 430 
 New reap'd, the other part sheep-walks and folds ; 
 I' th' midst an altar as the land-mark stood. 
 Rustic, of grassy sord. Thithe^r anon 
 A sweaty reaper from his tillage brought 
 First fi'uits ; the green ear and the yellow sheaf, 435 
 Uncull'd, as came to hand. A shepherd next, 
 More meek, came with the firstlings of his flock 
 
 414. Euphrasy, the herb called in En^listi eye-hright. — Rue is 
 Btill regarded as poscessing- some remarkable virtues. 
 
 420. Dan. X. 8. the idea in which seems to be copied here. 
 
 433. Sord or sward. Milton ag-rees witli the best commenta- 
 tors in the filling up of this passage, which is principally taken 
 frou. Scripture. 
 
268 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Choicest and best ; then sacrificing", laid 
 The inwards and their fat, with incense strow'd, 
 On the cleft wood, and all due rites perforni'd, 44C 
 His oif'ring- soon propitious lire fiom Heav'ii 
 Consumed ; with Jiimble glance and grateful steam • 
 The other's not, for his Vv^as not sincei'e ; 
 Whereat he iuly raged, and as they talk'd, 
 Smote him into the midriiT with a stone 415 
 
 That beat our life, lie fell, and, deadly pale, 
 Groan'd out his soul with gushing blood effused. 
 Much at that sight was Adam in his heai't 
 Dismay'd ; and thus in haste to th' Angel cry'd : 
 
 O Teacher, some g"eat mischief hath befall'n 45P 
 To that meek man, who well had sacrificed! 
 Is piety thus and pure devotion paid? 
 
 T' whom Michael thus (he also moved) reply'd : 
 These two are bretViren, Adam, and to come 
 Out of thy loins. Th' iinjust the just hath slain, 453 
 For envy that his brother's off 'ring found 
 From Heav'n acceptance : but the bloody fact 
 Will be avenged, and th' other's faith approve \ 
 Lose no reward, though hei-e thou see him die 
 Rolling- in dust and gore. To which our sire : 4(10 
 
 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 teri'or, foul and ugly to behold I 
 Horrid to think ! how horrible to feel ! 4Gi 
 
 To whom tlius Michael : Death thou hast seen 
 In his first shape on Man : but many shapes 
 Of Death, and many are the vv^ays that lead 
 To his grim cave, all dismal : yet to sense 
 IVIore terrible at th' entrance than within. 47C 
 
 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 monsti'ous crew 
 Before thee shall appear; that thou may'st know 
 What misery th' inabstinence of Eve 4?€ 
 
 Shall bring on men. Immediately a place 
 
 458. Heb. xi. 4. 
 
 477. The invention of the poet is finely exercised in the 
 
 circumstances of this vision. 
 
BOOK XL 2b& 
 
 Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark, 
 A iazai'-hoiise it seem'd, wheiein were laid 
 Numbers of all diseased, all maladies 4S0 
 
 Of ghastly spasm or racking- torture, qualms 
 Of heart-sick agony, all fev'rous kinds, 
 Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, 
 Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs, 
 Demoniac frenzy, naoping melancholy, 485 
 
 And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, 
 Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, 
 Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums. 
 Dire was the tossing, deep the groans ; Despair 
 Tended the sick, busiest, from couch to couch ; 490 
 And over them triumphant Death his dart 
 Shook, but delay'd to strike, though oft invoked 
 With vows, as their chief good and final hope. 
 Sight so deform, what heart of rock could long 
 Dry-eyed behold! Adam could not, but Avept, 495 
 Though not of woman born. Compassion quell'd 
 His best of man, and gave him up to tears 
 A space, till firmer thoughts restrain'd excess ; 
 And, scarce recov'ring words, his plaint renew'd. 
 
 O miserable mankind ! to what fall 500 
 
 Degraded ! to what wretched state reserved ! 
 Better end here unborn". Why is life given 
 To be thus wrested from us ? Rather, why 
 Obtruded on us thus 1 who if we knew 
 What we receive, would either not accept 505 
 
 Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down. 
 Glad to be so dismiss'd in peace. Can thus 
 The image of God, in man created once 
 So goodly and erect, though faulty since. 
 To such unsightly sufF'rings be debased 510 
 
 Under inhuman pains ? Why should not man, 
 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 515 
 Forsook them when themselves they vilify'd 
 To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took 
 
 517. There is a considerable error, I ima<rine, in the ideas thus 
 
 Eat into the mouth of Michael. By -supposing Eve swayed, as 
 ere said, by a brutish vice, the coiisequences of the fall and th« 
 
270 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 His iraage whom they served (a brutish vice) 
 
 fnductii^e mainly to the sin of Eve, 
 
 Therefore, so abject is their punishment, 520 
 
 Disfiguring- not God's likeness, but their own, 
 
 Or, if his likeness, by themselves defaced. 
 
 While they pervert pure Nature's healthful rules 
 
 To loathsome sickness, worthily, since they 
 
 God's image did not rev'rence in themselves. 525 
 
 I 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 v/ith our connatural dust ? 
 
 There is, said Michael, if thou well observe 530 
 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 retuni : 
 So may'st thou live till, like ripe fruit, thou drop 535 
 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 youthjthy strength, thy beauty, which will change 
 To wither'd, weak, and grey. Thy senses then 540 
 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 and dry. 
 To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume 545 
 The balm of life. To v/hom our ancestor : 
 
 Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong 
 Life much, bent rather how I may be quit, 
 Fairest and easiest, of this cumb'rous charge. 
 Which I must keep till my appointed day 550 
 
 Of rend'ring up, and patiently attend 
 My dissolution. Michael replied : 
 
 corrujUion which it produced are anticipated. There is not suffi- 
 cient aiithoriiy in Scripture for this strong- introduction of low 
 sensual feeling-, as the whole passag-e in which the fall is lehUed 
 turns upon the strontr desire felt by Eve to become as the aods, 
 accomplished in ihe^ knowledge of g-ood and evil. 1 am a little 
 surprised Milton's connuentaiors have not remarked this. — See 
 Gen. iii. 5, 6. 
 
 552. In the first edition it was, Of rendering up, Michael to htm 
 replied. 
 
BOOK XI. 251 
 
 Nor love thy life, nor hate ; but what thou liv'st 
 Live well ; how long or short permit to Heav'n. 
 And now prepare thee for another sight. 555 
 
 He looked, 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 moved 560 
 Their stops and chords, was seen. His volant touch 
 Instinct, through all proportions low and high, 
 Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue. 
 In other part stood one who, at the forge 
 Labouring, two massy clods of iron and brass 565 
 Had melted (whether found where casual fire 
 Had wasted woods on mountain or in vale, 
 Down to the veins of earth, thence gliding hot 
 To some cave's mouth, or whether wash'd by stream 
 From under ground) : the liqiiid ore he drain'd 570 
 Into fit moulds prepared ; from which he form'd 
 First his own tools ; then, what might else be wrought 
 Fusile, or gTav'n in metal. After these. 
 But on the hither side, a different sort 
 From the high neighb'ring hills, which was their seat, 
 Down to the plain descended. By their guise, 576 
 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 580 
 Long had not walk'd, when from the tents, behold, 
 A bevy of fair women, richly gay 
 In g:ems and wanton dress. To th' harp they sung 
 Soft amorous ditties, and in dance came on. 
 The men, tho' grave, eyed them, and let their eyes 5&H 
 Rove without rein, till in the amorous net 
 Fast caught, they liked, and each his liking chose : 
 
 557. Gen. iv. 20—22. 
 
 573. FusU, cast in niouids. The account of the descendants of 
 Scth is partly derived from Scripture, and partly from otiier 
 sources. 
 
 582. In allusion to the union mentioned in Scripture, which the 
 sons of God, or the descendants of his true worshippers, formed 
 with the dai^;?hters of Cain's posterity. See Gen. vi. 1, 2. That 
 the S07IS of Cod meant celt^stial beings, an idea once sup]>orted 
 )y some divines, and that on which Mr. Moore has founded his 
 ^(oem of the Loves of the Angels, has been long- ag-o an exploded 
 '\ipposition. 
 
 T 
 
272 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And now of love they treat, till tU' ev'ring star. 
 
 Love's harbinger, appear'd ; then all in heat 
 
 They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke 590 
 
 Hymen, then first to marriage rites invoked. 
 
 With feast and music all the tents resound. 
 
 Such happy interview and fair event 
 
 Of love and youth not lost, songs, garlands, flow'rs, 
 
 And charming symphonies, attach'd the heart 595 
 
 Of Adam, soon inclined 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: 600 
 Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse ; 
 Here Nature seems falfill'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, 605 
 
 Holy and pure, conformity divine. 
 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, 610 
 
 Unmindful of their Maker, though his Spirit 
 Taught them ; but they his gifts acknowledged none : 
 Yet they a beauteous offspring- shall beget ; 
 For that fair female troop thou saw'st, that seem'd 
 Of Goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 615 
 
 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 trollthe tongue, and roll the eye. 620 
 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, 025 
 
 Ere long to swim at large ; and laugh, for which 
 The world ere long a world of tears must weep. 
 
 To whom thus Adam Cof short joy bereft) : 
 O pity' and shame, that they who to live well 
 614. For that i As for that. 
 
^00 k: XL 273 
 
 Enter'd so fair, should turn aside to tread 630 
 
 Paths indirect, or in the mid-way faint ! 
 But sti'l I see the tenor of Man's woe 
 Holds on the same, from Woman to begin. 
 
 From Man's effeminate slackness it begins, 
 Said th' Angel, who should better hold his place 635 
 By wisdom, and superior g-ifts received. 
 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, 640 
 
 Cfincourse in arms, fierce faces threat'ning- war. 
 Giants of mighty bone, and bold emprise : 
 Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming steed, 
 Single or in array of battle rang-ed 
 Both horse and foot ; nor idly must'ring* stood. 645 
 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, 
 Thoir booty. Scarce with life the shepherds fly, 650 
 B\it call in aid ; which makes a bloody fray. 
 With cruel tournament the squadrons join : 
 Where cattle pastured late, now scatter d lies 
 With carcases and arms th' insang-uined field 
 Deserted. Others, to a city strong- 6S5 
 
 Lay sieg'e, encamp'd ; by battery, scale, and mine. 
 Assaulting- : others, from the wall, defend 
 With dart and javelin, stones and sulph'rous fire: 
 On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds. 
 In other part the scepter'd heralds call 6G0 
 
 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 665 
 
 645. Nor idly miisCring stood: there is supf.-osed to be an ai- 
 liision here, and in one or two other similar lines, to the situation 
 of tlie Er.g-lisli army at the time Milton was writin?, 
 
 660. There are sevrjrai imitations of Homer in this description, 
 liiad, xviii. 
 
 661. The judsres are descri.bed in Scripture as silting in the gates 
 of tlie cities. Gen. xxxiv. 20. Zecli. viii. 16, &c. 
 
 65.3. Of middle age, as the years of life were then nambered. 
 Enoch was 365 years old when translated, Gen. v. 23. 
 N 2 
 
274 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In wise depoi-t, spake much of right and wrong". 
 
 Of justice, of religion, truth, and peace, 
 
 And judgment from above. Him old and young 
 
 Exploded, and had seized with violent hands. 
 
 Had not a cloud descending- snatch'd him thence, 670 
 
 U'nseen 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 : O what are these ? 675 
 
 Death's ministers, not men, who thus deal death 
 
 Inhumanly to men, and multiijly 
 
 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 ! 680 
 
 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'st ; 684 
 
 Where g-ood with bad were match'd,who of themselves 
 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' admired, 
 And valour and heroic virtue call'd, 690 
 
 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 styled great conquerors, 695 
 
 Patrons of mankind, Gods, and sons of Gods : 
 Destroyers rightlier call'd, and plagues of men. 
 Thus fame shall be achieved, renown on earth. 
 And what most merits fame in silence hid. 
 But he the seventh from thee, whom thou beheld'st 
 The only righteous in a world perverse, 701 
 
 And therefore hated, therefore so beset 
 With foes for daring- single to be just, 
 
 663. Cen. vi. 4. Tt is supposed by some interpreters that the 
 ^aiits were so railed from their tyranny and power rather thar 
 their extraordinary bulk. The common idea, however, seems the 
 more correct, as it is supported by an immense mass of tradi- 
 tiouary evidence. 
 
 700. Jude 14. 
 
BOOK XI. 2T5 
 
 And utter odious truth, that God would come 
 To judg-e them with his saints ; him the Most High 
 Rapt in a balmy cloud with winged steeds, 705 
 
 Did, as thou saw'st, receive to walk with God, 
 High in salvation and the climes of bliss. 
 Exempt from death ; to shew thee what reward 
 A vaits the g'ood, the rest what punishment ; 710 
 
 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 ceased to roar : 
 All now was turn'd to jollity and game, 
 To luxury and riot, feast and dance, 715 
 
 Mai-rying- or prostituting, as befel, 
 Rape or adultery, where passing fair 
 Allured them : thence from cups to civil broils. 
 At length a rev 'rend sire among them came, 
 And of their doings great dislike declared, 72C 
 
 And testified against their ways. He oft 
 Frequented their assemblies, whereso niet. 
 Triumphs or festivals, and to them preach'd 
 Conversion and repentance, as to souls 
 In prison under judgments imminent : 725 
 
 But all in vain : which when he saw, he ceased 
 Contending, and removed his tents far off. 
 Then from the mountain, hewing timber tall, 
 Began to build a vessel of huge bulk, 
 Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and highth, 
 Smear'd round with pitch, and in the side a door 731 
 Contrived; and of provisions laid in large 
 For man and beast ; when lo, a wonder strange ! 
 Of every beast, and bird, and insect small. 
 Came sevens and pairs, and enter'd in as taught 735 
 Their order. Last, the sire and his three sons 
 With their four wives ; and God made fast the door. 
 Meanwhile the south wind rose, and with black 
 wings 
 
 723. 2 Pet. ii. 5. Josephus is Milton's authority for what is said 
 
 resptctin<? Noah's conduct when lie found his preaching- vain ; or 
 
 it niisrht be taken, possibly, from our Saviour's directions to the 
 
 disciples to flee from the cities which refused to hear them. 
 
 735. Gen. vii. 2, &c. 
 
 738. Ovid, Met. i. The comparison which has been instituted 
 between the descriptions which the two poets have ^j-iven of the 
 deluse is his^hly interesting-, and t!ie classical reader will '"da 
 f,ut!icient pleasure in makingr it for himself to reward the little 
 labour it requires. 
 
276 PAUALMSE LOST. 
 
 Wide liov'ring, all the clouds together drove 
 
 From under Heaven; the hills to their supply 710 
 
 Vapour, and exhalation dusk and moist, 
 
 Sent up amain. And now the thicken'd sky 
 
 Like a dai*k ceiling stood ; down rush'd the rain 
 
 Impetuous, and continued till the earth 
 
 No more v/as seen. The floating- vessel swum 745 
 
 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, 750 
 
 Where luxury late reign 'd, sea monsters whelp'd 
 
 And stabled. Of mankind, so numerous late, 
 
 All left, in one small bottom swum imbark'd. 
 
 How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold 
 
 The end of all thy offspring, end so sad, 753 
 
 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 760 
 
 His children, all in view destroy'd at once : 
 
 And scarce to th' Angel utter'dst thus thy plaint : 
 
 visions ill foreseen ! Better had I 
 Lived ignorant of future, so had borne 
 My part of evil only, each day's lot 765 
 
 Enough to bear ! those now, that were dispensed 
 The burden of many ages, on me light 
 At once, by my foreknowledge gaining birth 
 Abortive, to torment me ere their being, 
 With tliought that they must be I Let no man seek 
 Henceforth to be foretold what shall befal 771 
 
 Ifim 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 773 
 
 Grievous to bear. But that care now is past, 
 Man is not whom to warn : those few escaped, 
 Famine and anguish will at last consume, 
 Wand'ring that watery desert. I had hope 
 When violence was ceased, and war on earth, 780 
 A-U would have then gone weV • peace Vv^ould have 
 crown'd 
 
BOOK XI. '2T7 
 
 With length of happy days the race of man ; 
 But I was far deceived : for now I see 
 Peace to corrupt no less than war to waste. 
 How conies it thus 1 Unfold, celestial guide ; 7S5 
 •Ana whether here the race of man will end? 
 
 T' whom thus Michael : Those whom last thou 
 In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they [saw'st 
 First seen in acts of prowess eminent 
 And great exploits, but of true virtue void ; 790 
 
 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 795 
 
 Raise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace. 
 The conquer'd also, and enslaved by war, 
 Shall, with their freedom lost, all virtue lose 
 And fear of God, from whom their piety feign'd 
 In sharp contest of battle, found no aid 800 
 
 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 euough, that temperance may be try'd: 
 So all shall turn degenerate, all depraved, 806 
 
 Justice and temperance, 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 810 
 
 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 safe, 
 And full of peace, denouncing wrath to come 815 
 On their impenitence ; and shall return 
 Of them derided, but of God observed 
 The one just man alive. By his command 
 Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheld'st 
 To save himself and household from amidst 820 
 
 A world devote to universal wrack. 
 No sooner he with them of man and beast 
 Select for life shall in the ark be lodged, 
 821. Denote, for denotctU 
 
278 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And sheltered round, but all the cataracts 
 
 Of Heav'n, set open on the earth, shall pour 823 
 
 Rain day and night ; all fountains of the deep 
 
 Broke up, shall heave the ocean, to usurp 
 
 Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise 
 
 Above the highest hills : then shall this mount 
 
 Of Paradise, by mig-ht of waves, be moved 830 
 
 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 clang-, 
 
 To teach thee that God attributes to place 836 
 
 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, 840 
 Which now abated ; for the clouds were fled, 
 Driven by a keen north-wind, that blov/ing dry, 
 Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decay'd ; 
 And the clear sun on his wide watery glass 
 Gazed hot, and of the fresu wave largely drew, 845 
 As after thii-st ; 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. 84^^ 
 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 : 
 With clamoTu- thence the rapid currents drive 
 Towards the retreating- sea their furious tide. 
 Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies, 855 
 
 And after him, the surer messenger, 
 A dove, srnt forth once and again to spy 
 Green tree or ground whereon his foot may light. 
 The som^d time returning, in his bill 
 
 824. Gen. vii. 11. 
 829. Paradise, it Is siipposed, was destroyed by the deluge. 
 831- Horned, indiX is, curved as rivers sometimes are wiren op- 
 posed \n their (nirreat.. — Euphrates, which flowed through Eden, 
 le called in Scripture the great river ; it emptied itself into the 
 Persian -Gulf. 835- Ores, a kind of sea monster. 
 
 8.50. Hull, floating- like a hulk, without siiils or rudder. 
 842. North-Mind, the Scripture does not mention any particular 
 •.vi»uJ. S48. Gen. viii. 2, &c. 
 
BOOK XI 279 
 
 An olive leaf he brings ; pacific sign. 860 
 
 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 cioud a bow 865 
 
 Conspicuous, with three listed colours gay, 
 Betokening- peace from God, and covenant new. 
 Whereat the heart; of Adam, erst so sad, 
 Greatly rejoiced, and thus his joy broice forth : 
 
 O thou, who futuve things can'st represent 870 
 As present, heav'nly Instructor, I revive 
 At this last sig-ht ; assured that man shall live 
 With all the creatures, and their seed preserve. 
 Far less I now lament for one whole v/ovld 
 Of wicked sons desti'oy'd, than I rejoice 875 
 
 For one man found so pei-fect and so just, 
 That God vouchsafes to laise another v^oiid 
 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 appeased, 88C 
 
 Or serve they as a flov/'ry verge to bind 
 The fluid skirts of that same watery cloud. 
 Lest it again dissolve and shower the earth ? 
 
 To whom th' Arch-Angel : Dext'rously thcu aim'st ; 
 So willingly doth God remit his ire, 885 
 
 Though late repenting him of man depraved. 
 Grieved at his heart, when looking down he saw 
 The whole earth liU'd with violence, and all flesh 
 Corrupting each their way ; yet those removed. 
 Such grace shall one just man find in his sight, 890 
 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 895 
 Over the earth a cloud, will therein set 
 
 860. It may be observed that the olive is made frequent mention 
 of in Sciipture, and appears to liave had a sort of sacred cha- 
 racter atnon^: most of the ancient r.ations. Mitrlit it not acquire 
 this by its having been thus appointed by God as a sign of peace 
 between him and liis creatures ! 
 
 866. Three listed colours, the three principal ones are here 
 alluded to. 
 
280 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 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 thing's new 
 
 Both Heav'n and Earth, wherein the just shall dweli 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Angel Michael contiimes, from the flood, to relate what 
 shajl succeed ; tlien, in the mention of Abraham, comes by de- 
 grees to exphiin who that Seed of the Woman sliall be, \vhich 
 was promised Adam aed Eve in the fall; his incarnation, dcati), 
 resurrection, and ascension ; the stile of the chi;Th till his se- 
 cond coming. Adam, greatly satisried and recomf jrted by these 
 relations aiid promisesj descends the hill with INHchat-i : wakens 
 Eve, who all this while had slept, bnt with gentle dreams com- 
 
 Iiosed to quietness of mind and submission. Michael in either 
 land leads them out of Paradise, the fiery sword waving behind 
 them, and the Cherubim taking their stations to guard the place. 
 
 As one who in his journey bates at noon. 
 
 Though bent on speed, so here th' Arch- An gel paused 
 
 Betwixt the woi'ld destroy'd and world restored, 
 
 If Adam aught perhaps might interpose ; 
 
 Then with transition sweet new speech resumes. 5 
 
 Thus thou hast seen one world begin and end ; 
 And man, as from 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 : 10 
 
 Hencefoi'th what is to come 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, 15 
 
 I. This book was united to the former in the first edition, and 
 on its being separated the first five lines were added to form its 
 commencenient. 
 
 II. Addison regrets that the poet did not continue the vision 
 instead of reverting to the narrative form — Milton, however, ap- 
 pears to me to have been riglit in the plan he has pursued. It 
 would, in the first place, have been unnatural to keep Adam 
 longer in a state of ecstasy or trance; and next and princk)ally, 
 the action of the poem would have been entirely stopped too long, 
 had the vision continued. By bringing the angel forward as speak- 
 ing and conversing with Adani, the plot, though not leally for 
 warded, has the app-^arance of going on 
 
BOOK XII. 281 
 
 With some regard to what is just and right 
 
 Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace. 
 
 Labouring- the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, 
 
 Corn, wine, and oil : and from the herd or flock, 
 
 Oft sacrilicing bullock, lamb, or kid, 20 
 
 With large wine-off 'rings pour'd, and sacred feast, 
 
 Shall spend their days in joy unblamed, and dwell 
 
 Long- time in peace, by families and tribes, 
 
 Under paternal rule, till one shall rise, 
 
 Of proud ambitious heart ; who not content 25 
 
 With fair equality, fraternal state. 
 
 Will arrogate dominion -undeserved 
 
 Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 
 
 Concord and law of nature from the earth, 
 
 Hunting (and men not beasts shall be his game) 30 
 
 With war and hostile snare such as refuse 
 
 Subjection to his empire tyrannous : 
 
 A mighty hunter thence he shall be styled 
 
 Before the Lord, as in despite of Heav'n, 
 
 Or from Heav'n claiming second sov 'reign ty ; 35 
 
 And from rebellion shall derive his name, 
 
 Though of rebellion others he accuse. 
 
 He with a crew, whom like ambition joins 
 
 With him or under him to tyrannize. 
 
 Marching from Eden tow'rds the west, shall find 40 
 
 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 dispersed 45 
 
 In foreign lands, there memory be lost, 
 
 Regardless 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, 50 
 
 Comes doAvn to see their city, ere the tow'r 
 
 Obstruct Heav'n-tow'rs, and in derision sets 
 
 ITpon their tongues a various spirit to rase 
 
 22. The silver a^-e is here meant, as the time of man's inno- 
 cence was the prolden. — The iron aae is next mentiotietl. ■ 
 
 24. ]Nitnro<l is said to have been the first man who assumed the 
 power and character of a monarch. Gen. x. 9. 
 
 36. The name of Nimrod is usually derived from a Hebrevt 
 word that signifies io rebel. ' 40. Gen. xi. 2, &c. 
 
282 PARADISK LOST. 
 
 Quite out their native laogaage, and instead 
 
 To sow a jangling noise of words unknown. 55 
 
 Forthwith a hideous g-abble rises loud 
 
 Among the builders ; each to other calls. 
 
 Not understood, 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, 60 
 
 And hear the din ; thus was the building left 
 
 Ridiculous, and the work Confusion named. 
 
 Whereto thus Adam, fatherly displeased : 
 O execrable son, so to aspire 
 
 Above his brethren, to himself assuming 65 
 
 Authority usurp'd; from God not g'iven. 
 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 70 
 
 Reserving, human left from human free. 
 But this usuT'per, 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 75 
 
 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 1 
 
 To whom thus Michael : Justly thou abhorr'st 
 That son, who on the quiet state of men 80 
 
 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 85 
 Reason in man obscured, or not obey'd. 
 Immediately inordinate desires 
 And upstart passions catch the government 
 From reason, and to servitude reduce 
 Man till then free. Therefore, since he permits 90 
 Within himself unworthy powers to reign 
 Over free reason, God in judgment just 
 
 59. Dr. Bentley reaus is in this and in line 61. But the ansrel 
 
 mig-ht regard the event as past, as in his relation he looked frora 
 
 a station which could command the whole extended course of time, 
 
 62o -babel signifies confusion in Hebrew. Gen. xi. 9. 
 
BOOK Xil. 283 
 
 Subjects him from without to violent lords ; 
 
 Who oft as undeservedly inthrall 
 
 His outward freedom. Tyranny must be, 95 
 
 Though to the tyrant 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, 100 
 
 Their inward lost. Witness th' irrev'rent son 
 
 Of him who built the ark, who for the shame 
 
 Done to his father, heard this heavy curse. 
 
 Servant of servants,' on his vicious race. 
 Thus will this latter, as the former world, 105 
 
 Still tend from bad to worse, till God at last. 
 Weary 'd 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; 110 
 
 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 115 
 
 (Canst thou believe?) should be so stupid grown, 
 While yet the patriarch lived, who scaped 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, 121 
 
 His kindred, and false Gods, into a land 
 Which he will shew him, and from him will raise 
 A mighty nation, and upon him shower 
 His benediction so, that in his seed 125 
 
 All nations shall be blest. He straight obeys, 
 Not knowing to what land, yet firm believes. 
 1 see him, but thou canst not, with v/hat faith 
 
 101. Cham ; the f\ther of Canaan is here meant. Gen. ix. 22. 25. 
 
 110. The narrative is, from this point, confined to the history of 
 the chosen race, the seed of Ab-aham. 115. Josh. xxiv. 2. 
 
 117. Temh, Abraham's father ,Tas born 222 years after the flood, 
 and Noah was liviiiH till the 3oOth year after it, so that idolatry 
 had gained g-round some vears before his death. 
 
 120. Gen. xii. 1— "-3. 126. Heb. xl. 8. 
 
 128. This is not, it should be observed, a reverting to the former 
 visian, as some commentators seem to suppose, but a mode o1 
 
284 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 He leaves his Gods, his friends, and native soil, 
 
 Ur of Chaldaea, passing now the ford ISf) 
 
 To Haran : after him a cumb'rous 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 13& 
 
 Pitch 'd about Sechem, and the neig'hb'ring- plain 
 
 Of Moreh : there, by promise, he receives 
 
 Gift to liis progeny of all that land. 
 
 From Hamath northward to tiie Desert south 
 
 ''Things by their naines I call, tho' yet unnamed), 140 
 
 From Hermon east to the great western sea ; 
 
 Mount Hermon, yonder sea ; each place behold 
 
 In prospect, as I point them : on the shore 
 
 Mount Carmel : here the double-foauted stream 
 
 Jordan, true limit eastward ; but liis sons 145 
 
 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 Deliv'rer, who shall bruise 
 
 The Serpent's head : whereof to thee anon 150 
 
 Plainlier shall be reveal'd. This patriarch blest, 
 
 Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, 
 
 A son, and of his son a grandchild leaves, 
 
 Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown. 
 
 The grandchild with twelve sons increased, departs 
 
 From Canaan to a land, hereafter call'd 156 
 
 Egypt, divided by the river Nile. 
 
 See where it flows, disgorging at seven mouths 
 
 Into the sea. To sojourn in that land 
 
 He comes, invited by a younger son, 160 
 
 \n 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 165 
 
 To stop their overgrowth, as inmate guests 
 
 Too num'rous ; v/hence of guests he makes them slaves 
 
 speaking' natural to the ang-el, to whom ail the future was revealed. 
 The reader will find the whole of the narrative here given iij 
 different parts of the Pentateuch. 
 
 1.55. IVilh twelve sons increased • a Latinism. 
 
BOOK XII. 285 
 
 Inhospitably', and kills their infant males : 
 
 Till hy two brethren (those two brethren call 
 
 Moses and Aaron) sent from God to claim 170 
 
 His people from inthralment, they return 
 
 VV ith glory' and spoil back to their promised land. 
 
 But first the lawless tyrant, who denies 
 
 To know tlieir God, or message to regard. 
 
 Must be compell'd by signs and judgments dire. 175 
 
 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 flesh emboss, 180 
 
 And all his people ; thunder mix'd with hail. 
 
 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 185 
 
 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 190 
 
 The river-dragon tamed, 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 195 
 
 Swa'lows him with his host; but them lets pass 
 
 As on dry land, between two crystal walls. 
 
 Awed by the rod of Moses so to stand 
 
 Divided, till his rescued gain'd their shore. 
 
 Such wondrous power God to his saint will lend. 
 
 Though present in his Angel, who shall go 201 
 
 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, Vv'hile th' obdurate king pursues. 205 
 
 All night he will pursue ; bat his approach 
 
 Darkness defends between till morning watch : 
 
 .88. The Vulgate translniioii of Exodus x. 21. has tarn denstsui 
 valjHiri queant. Our English lias, darhvess that may be ft}'^ 
 207. Defends, forbids. 
 
286 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Then through the fiery pillar and the cloud 
 
 God, looking forth, will trouble all ^lis host, 
 
 And craze their chariot-wheels : when by command 
 
 Moses once more his potent rod extends 211 
 
 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 215 
 
 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 v/ith servitude ; for life 220 
 
 To noble and ignoble is more sweet 
 
 Untrain'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 225 
 
 Through the twelve tribes, to rule b^- laws ordain'd. 
 
 God from the mount of Sinai, whose grey top 
 
 Shall tremble, he descending, will himself 
 
 In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpets sound. 
 
 Ordain them laws ; part such as appertain 230 
 
 To civil justice, part religious rites 
 
 Of sacriiice, informing them, by types 
 
 And shadows, of that destined Seed to brixise 
 
 The Serpent, by what means he shall achieve 
 
 Mankind's deliverance. But the voice of God 235 
 
 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 240 
 
 Moses in figure bears, to introduce 
 
 One greater, of whose day he shall foretell ; 
 
 210. Craze, bruise or shatter, from the French ecraser. In 
 Exodus xiv. 25. our translation has taken off, but Milton is nearer 
 the original. 
 
 230. Milton has not made any particular mention of the moral 
 law in this passaire. The reason \ in\;iq-ine is, that the sole object 
 he had in view w;is to shew tlie pioirress of events towards tho 
 appearance of Christ and the o^Jahlishiiient of his kin-rdom. lie 
 had, therefore, onlv so f.ir to introduce tlie Jewish dispensation 
 as it typified the Mrssiah's kini,'-doni or illu^tMiled his character 
 and actions. The moral law was unch;ing-ed and unchangeable, 
 and belonged to no one tiu-e or system. The objections, there- 
 fore, of Warburton and others are without foundatioa 
 
BOOK XII. 28? 
 
 And all the prophets in their ag-e the times 
 
 Of great Messiah shall sing-. The laws and rites 
 
 Establish'd, such delight hath God in men 245 
 
 Obedient to his will, that he vouchsafes 
 
 Among- tliem to set up his tabernacle, 
 
 The Holy One with mortal men to dwell. 
 
 By his prescript a sanctuary is framed 
 
 Of cedar, overlaid with gold, therein 250 
 
 An ark, and in the ark his testimony, 
 
 The records of his covenant; over these 
 
 A mercy-seat of g-old between the wings 
 
 Of two bright Cherubim ; before him burn 
 
 Seven lamps, as in a zodiac, representing 255 
 
 The heav'nly fires ; over the tent a oloud 
 
 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 
 
 Promised to Abraham and his seed. The rest 260 
 
 Were long to tell, how many battles fought. 
 
 How many kings destroy'd, and kingdoms won. 
 
 Or how the sun shall in mid Hea^'n stand still 
 
 A day entire, and night's due course adjourn, 
 
 Man's voice commanding-, Sun in Gibeon stand, 2S5 
 
 And thou moon in the vale of Aijalon, 
 
 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 interposed : O sent from Heav'n, 270 
 P^nlight'ner of my darkness, gracious things 
 Thou hast reveal'd, those chieily which concern 
 Just Abraham and his seed : now first I find 
 Mine eyes true opening, and my heart niuch eased, 
 Erewhile perplex'd with thoughts what would become 
 Of me and all mankind; but now I see 270 
 
 His day, in whom all nations shall be blest, 
 Favour unmerited by me, who sought 
 Forbidden knowledge by forbidden means. 
 This yet I apprehend not, why to those 28u 
 
 Among whom God will deign to dwell on earth. 
 So many and so various laws are given 1 
 So many laws argue so many sins 
 
 2o6. The heavenly fires, the seven lamps, sij^nifying- the 
 
 seven planets. 277. John viii. 56. 
 
 ii83. Gal. iii. 19. Rom. vii. ", 8, iij. 20. Heb. ix. 13. x. 4, 5 &c. 
 
288 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 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; 2S6 
 
 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 not remove, 290 
 
 Save by those shadowy expiations weak. 
 The blood of bulls and goats, they may conclude 
 Some blood moie precious must be paid for man, 
 Just for unjust, that in such righteousness 
 To them by faith imputed, they may find 295 
 
 Justification towards God, and peace 
 Of conscience, which the law by ceremonies 
 Cannot appease, nor man the moral part 
 Perform, and, not performing, cannot live. 
 So law appears imperfect, and but given 300 
 
 With purpose to resign them in full time 
 Up to a better covenant, disciplined 
 From shadowy types to truth, from flesh to spirit, 
 From imposition of strict laws to free 
 Acceptance of large grace, from servile fear 305 
 
 To filial, works of law to works of faith. 
 And therefore shall not Moses, though of God 
 Highly beloved, being but the minister 
 Of law, his people into Canaan lead; 
 But Joshua, whom the Gentiles Jesus call, 310 
 
 His name and office bearing, who shall quell 
 The adversary Serpent, and bring back. 
 Thro' the world's wilderness long wander'd, man 
 Safe, to eternal Paradise of rest. 314 
 
 Mean while they in their earthly Canaan placed. 
 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 320 
 
 The second, both for piety renown'd 
 And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive 
 
 310. Jesus and Joshua are the same name, the former being- 
 the Greek and the latter the Hebrew form. Jesus is used for 
 Joshua, Acts vii. 45. Heb. iv. 8. As the wlioie of this part of the 
 poem is talien from Scripture, the reader will do well to consult 
 the iTiarg-inal references of his Bible, if he be curious to see how 
 the author has converted his scriptural knowledge to his use in 
 this narrative, mixing- with great skill history and prophecy 
 
BOOK XII. 289 
 
 Irrevocable, that his regal throne 
 
 For ever shall endure. The like shall sing* 
 
 All prophecy, that of the royal stock 325 
 
 Of Da-v id (so I name this King-) shall rise 
 
 A Son, the Woman's Seed to thee foretold, 
 
 Foi-etold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust 
 
 All nations, and to kings foretold, of king-s 
 
 The last ; for of his reign shall be no end. 330 
 
 But first a long- succession must ensue. 
 
 And his next son, for wealth and wisdom famed, 
 
 The clouded ark of God, till then in tents 
 
 Wand'ring, shall in a glorious temple' inshrine. 
 
 Such follow him as shall be reg-ister'd 335 
 
 Part g'ood, part bad, of bad the long'er scroll, 
 
 Whose fonl idolatries, and other faults 
 
 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, 340 
 
 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 seventy years, then bring-* them back, 
 
 Rememl-'ring- mercy, and his covenant sworn 346 
 
 To David, stablish'd as the days of Heav'n. 
 
 Retui-n'd from Babylon, by leave of kings 
 
 Their lords, whom God disposed, the house of God 
 
 They first re-edify, and for a while 3^50 
 
 In mean estate live moderate, till grown 
 
 In wealth and multitude, factious they grow. 
 
 But, first, among* the priests dissension springs 1 
 
 Men who attend the altar, and should most 
 
 Endeavour peace. Their strife pollution brinj^-? 355 
 
 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 
 
 Anointed King, Messiah, might be born 
 
 Barr'd of his right ; yet at his birth a star, 360 
 
 Unseen before in Heav'n, proclaims him come, 
 
 And guides the eastern sages, who inquire 
 
 His place, to olfer incense, myrrh, and g-old. 
 
 His place of birth a solemn Angel tells 
 
 342. Thou, saw'st, a strong' poeticiil e^d'ession, and not 
 to be taken literally. 
 
 o 
 
290 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 To simple slieplierds, keeping- watch by night : 36A 
 
 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 370 
 
 With earth's wide bounds, his glory with the Heav'ns. 
 
 He ceased, discerning Adam with such joy 
 Surcharged, as had like grief been dew'd in tears, 
 Without the vent of words, which these he breathed : 
 
 O prophet of glad tidings! finisher 375 
 
 Of utmost hope! now clear I understand 
 What oft my steadiest thoughts have search'd in vain, 
 Why our great expectation should be call'd 
 The seed of Woman. Virgin Mother, kail ! 
 High in the love of Heav'n, yet from my loins 380 
 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 384 
 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 390 
 
 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 recure, 
 Not by destroying Satan, but his works 
 In thee and in thy seed : nor can this be, 39.5 
 
 But by fulfilling that which thou didst want. 
 Obedience to the law of God imposed 
 On penalty of death, and suff' ring death. 
 The penalty to thy transgression due, 
 And due to theirs, which out of thine will grow : 
 So only can high justice rest appaid. 401 
 
 The law of God exact he shall fulfil. 
 Both by obedience and by love, though love 
 Alone fulfil the law. Thy punishment 
 He shall indure, by coming in the flesh IDS 
 
 To a reproachful life and cursed death. 
 Proclaiming life to all who shall believe 
 In his redemption, and that his obedienc© 
 
BOOK XT I. 291 
 
 Imputed becomes theirs by faith, his merits 
 To save them, not their own, though legal works. 
 For this he shall live hated, be blasphemed, 411 
 
 Seized on by force, judged, and to death condemn'd, 
 A shameful and accursed, nail'd to the cross 
 By his own nation, slain for bringing- life " 
 But to the cross he nails thy enemies; 415 
 
 Tlie 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 i-evives ; death over him no power 420 
 
 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 425 
 
 Neglect not, and the benefit embrace 
 By faith not void of works. This Godlike act 
 Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have died, 
 In sin for ever lost from life. This act 
 Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength. 
 Defeating sin and death, his two main arms, 431 
 And fix'd far ?ieeper in his head their stings 
 Than temp'ral death shall bruise tlie Victor's heel, 
 Or theirs whom he redeems, a death-like sleep, 
 A gentle wafting to immortal life. 435 
 
 Nor after resurrection shall he stay 
 Longer on earth than certain times t' appear 
 To his disciples, men who in his life 
 Still follow'd him: to them shall leave in charge 
 To teach all nations what of him they learn'd 440 
 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 prepared, if so befall, 
 For death, like that which the Redeemer died. 445 
 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; 
 In in his seed all nations shall be blest. 45Q 
 
 '.' , Thy enemies, the laio, Sic. as explained in the next 
 line. — Coloss. li. 14. 
 
292 PARADISK LOST. 
 
 Then to tlie Heav'n of Heav "ds he shall ascend 
 
 With victory, triumphing- through the air 
 
 Over hij foes and thine ; there shall surprise 
 
 The Serpent, prince of air, and drag- in chains 
 
 Thro' all his realm, and there confounded leave ; 
 
 Then enter into glory, and resume 456 
 
 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 j)ow'r to judge both quick and dead ; 
 
 To judge th' unfaithful dead, but to reAvard 461 
 
 His faithful, and receive them into bliss, 
 
 W^hether in Heav'n or Earth ; for then the Earth 
 
 Shall all be Paradise : far happier place 
 
 Than this of Eden, and far happier days. 465 
 
 So spakfe th' Arch- Angel Michael, then paused, 
 As at the world's great period; and our sire, 
 Replete with joy and Vv'onder, thus reply'd : 
 
 O Goodness infinite. Goodness immense I 
 That all this good of evil shall produce, 470 
 
 And Evil turn to good ! more wonderful 
 Than that v.hich by creation first brought forth 
 Light out of darkness ! full of doubt 1 stand, 
 W^hether I hould repent me now of sin. 
 By me done u;ui occasion'd, or rejoice 475 
 
 Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring, 
 To God more filory, more good-will to men 
 From God, and over wrath grace shall abound. 
 But say : if our Deliv'rer xxp to Heav'n 
 Must reascend, what will betide the few 480 
 
 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 *!ure they will, said the Angel; but from Heav'n 
 He to his own a Comforter will send, 48fif 
 
 The promise of xhe Father, who shall dwell 
 His Spirit within them, and the law of faith. 
 Working through love, upon their hearts shall write, 
 To g-ade them in all truth, and also arm 4L'0 
 
 469. It lias been observed by Addison that Milton, by this pro- 
 ptietir declaration of IVlicliael, iias made liis |)oem coiiforinab'p, 
 to the opinion of tlie mot-t celebra.ted writers, that an epic shoul4 
 end prosperously. 
 
 487. Liike xxiv. 49. 490. John xvi. 13. and Eph, vi. 11. 
 
BOOK XJL 293 
 
 With spiritual armour, able to resist 
 Satan's assaults, and queiich his fiery dai'ts ; 
 What man can do against them, not afraid, 
 Though to the death, against such cruelties 
 With inward consolations recompensed, 495 
 
 And oft supported so as shall amaze 
 Their proudest persecutors : for the Spirit 
 Pour'd first on his Apostles, whom be sends 
 T' evangelize the nations, then on all 
 1 aptized, shall them with wondrous gifts endue 500 
 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 juy the tidings brought from Heav'n. At length 
 Their ministry perform M, and race well run, 505 
 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 510 
 
 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 to' avail themselves of names 
 Places and titles, and with these to join 516 
 
 Secular pow'r though feigning still to act 
 By spiritual, to themselves appropriating 
 The Spirit of God, promised alike, and given. 
 To all believers; and from that pretence, 520 
 
 Spiritual laws by carnal power shall force 
 On ev'ry conscience ; lavvs which none shall find 
 Left them inroD'd, or what the Spirit within 
 Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then 
 I? at force the Spirit of grace itself, and bind 525 
 
 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 : 53(; 
 
 Whence heavy persecution shall arise 
 On all who in the worship persevere 
 Of spirit and truth ; the rest, far greater part, 
 507. Acts XX. 29. 514. 1 Cor. ii. 14. 
 
204 PARADISE JO ST. 
 
 Will deem in outward rites and specious forms 
 Religion satisfy'd. Truth sliall retire 535 
 
 Eestuck v/ith sland'rous darts, and works of faith 
 llarely 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 540 
 
 And vengeance to the wicked at return 
 Of him so lately promised to thy aid, 
 The 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 545 
 In glory of the Father, to dissolve 
 Satan with his perverted world, then raise 
 From the conliagrant mass^ purged and refined, 
 New Heav*ns, new Earth, ages of endless date 
 Founded iu righteousness, and peace, and love, 550 
 To bring forth fruits, joy and eternal bliss. 
 He ended ; and thus Adam last reply'd : 
 How soon hath thy prediction. Seer blest. 
 Measured this transient world, the race of time, 
 Till time stand lix'd ! Beyond is all abyss, 565 
 
 Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. 
 Greatly instructed, I shall hence depart. 
 Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill 
 Of knov/ledge, what this vessel can contain; 
 Beyond which was my folly to aspire. 560 
 
 Henceforth I learn that to obey is best, 
 And love with fear the only God, to walk 
 As in his presence, ever to observe 
 His providence, and on him sole depend, 
 Merciful over all his v*'orks, with good 565 
 
 Still overcoming evil, and by small 
 Accomplishing great things, by things deem'd weak 
 Subverting worldly strong, and worldly wise 
 By simply meek ; that suffering for truth's sake 
 Is fortitude to highest victory, 570 
 
 And to the faithful, death the gate of life : 
 Taught this by his example, whom I no\^ 
 Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest. 
 To whom thus also th' Angel last reply'd : 
 
 540. Of respiration ; in Scripture, the times of 
 
 refreshing: Acts iii. 19. 
 
 649. 2 Pet. iii. 13. See former noie on the same expression. 
 
BOOK XII. 295 
 
 his having* learn'd, thou hast attain'd the sum 675 
 /f wisdom; hope no higher, though all the stars 
 ^hou knew'st by name, and all th* ethereal pow'rs, 
 411 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, 580 
 
 4nd 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 (Jharity, the soul 
 Of all the rest, then wilt thou not be loath 585 
 
 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, 590 
 By me encamp'd on yonder hill, expect 
 Their motion, at whose front a flaming sword. 
 In signal to remove, waves fiercely round. 
 We may no longer stay. Go, waken Eve ; 
 Her also I v ith gentle dreams have calm'd, 595 
 
 Portending good, and all her spirits composed 
 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 deliv 'ranee by her seed to come 600 
 
 (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. 605 
 
 He ended, and they both descend the hill; 
 Descended, Adam to the bower where Eve 
 Lay sleeping ran before, but found her waked ; 
 And thus with words not sad she him received : 
 
 Whence thou return'st, and whither went'st, I know: 
 For God is also' in sleep, and dreams advise, 611 
 Which he hath sent propitious, some great good 
 
 581. 2 Pet. i. 5. 
 
 588. Top of speculation ; an eminence of contemplation, from 
 which the eye of the mind saw the mysteries of Providence all 
 cleared up. 
 
 608. An inconsistency is pointed out between this line and the 
 argument to the book, in which it will be found that Adam i» 
 aaid to waken Eve, while he is here represented as -finding^ hef 
 
296 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Presaging", since with sorrow' and heart's distreafl 
 
 Weary'd I fell asleep : but now lead on ; 
 
 in me is no delay. With thee to go, 61£ 
 
 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 020 
 
 I carfy hence ; though all by me is lost, 
 
 (Such favour I unworthy am vouchsafed) 
 
 By me the promised Seed shall all restore. 
 
 So spake our mother Eve ; and Adam heard 
 Well pleased, but answer'd not ; for now too nigh 
 Th' Arch-Angel stood, and from the other hill 620 
 To their fix'd station, all in bright array 
 The Cherubim descended ; on the ground 
 Gliding meteorous, as evening mist 
 Risen from a river o'er the marish glides, 630 
 
 And gathers ground fast at the labourer's heel 
 Homeward returning. High in front advanced. 
 The brandish 'd sword of God before them blazed 
 Fierce as a comet ; which with torrid heat, 
 And vapour as the Libyan air adust, 635 
 
 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 disappeared. 640 
 
 They looking back, all the eastern side beheld 
 Of Paradise (so late their happy seat) 
 Waved over by that flaming brand, tlie gate 
 With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms : 
 Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped thera soon: 
 The world was all before them, where to choose 616 
 Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. 
 They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow 
 Through Eden took their solitary way. 
 
 630- May-ish; 'rom the French MaraU, a marsh. 
 648. Tlie conclusion of this woiulerful poem is not inferior ta 
 beauty to its prof^ress. Ceasing from the calm and unadorned 
 narrative whicli occupies the former part of the last hook, tL" 
 author rises again into his accustomed sublimity, and then wit'if 
 the most admirable skill closes the poem with an appeal, dee|i 
 and powerful, to all the feelings of awe ana tenderness which iS* 
 ubject can awaken. Never, I think, nas worse taste been shew" 
 than by the critics who would liave had the last two lines omitted- 
 
 END OF PARADISE LOST. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The subject proposed. Invocation of tlie Holy Spirit. The poem 
 opens with John baptizin«: at the river Jordan. Jesns coming 
 there is baptized ; and is attested by the descent of the Holy Ghost, 
 and by a voice from heaven, to be the Son of God. Satan, who is 
 present, upon this immediately flies up into the regions of the 
 air : where, summoning his infernal council, hf acquaints them 
 with his apprehensions that Jesus is that seed of the woman des- 
 tined to destroy ail their power, and points out to them the im- 
 mediate necessity of bring-ing- the matter to proof, and of attempt- 
 ing, by snares and fraud, to counteract and d(>feat the person 
 from whom they have so much to d'^f^ad. Tliis office he otTers \ 
 
 himself to undertake; and, his offer being accepted, sets out on \ 
 
 his enterprise. In the mean time God, in the assembly of holy 
 angels, declares that he has given up hj gjSen to be tempted by 
 Satan ; but foretells that the tempter khallbe completely defeated 
 by him : upon which the angels sing a hymn of triumph. Jesus 
 is led up by the Spirit into the wilderness, while he is meditating 
 on the conmiencement of his great office of Sivionr of mankind. 
 Pursuing his meditations he narrates, in a soliloquy, what divine 
 and philanthropic impulses he had felt from his early youth, and 
 how his mother iVIaiy, on perceiving these dispositions in him, 
 had acquainted him with the circumstances of his birth, and in- 
 formed him that he was no less a person than the Son of God ; 
 to which he adds what his own inquiries and reflections had sup- 
 plied in confirmation of this great truth, and particularly dwells 
 on the recent attestaL^n of 'it at the river Jordan. Our Lord 
 
 C asses forty days, fasting, in the wilderness; where the wikl 
 easts become mild and "harmless in his presence. Satan now 
 appears under the form of an old peasant ; and enters into dis 
 course with our Lord, wondering what could have brought hira 
 alone into so dangerous a place, and at the same time professing 
 to recognise him for the perso-n lately acknpwledged by John, at 
 the river Jordan, to be the Son of God. {Jesus' briefly replies. 
 Satan rejoins with a description of the difficulty of supporting life 
 in the wilderness; and entreats Jesus, if he be really the Son of 
 God, to manifest his divine power, by changing some of the 
 gtones into bread. Jesus reproves him, and at the same time tells 
 him that he knows who he is. Satan instantly avows himself, and 
 offers an artful apology for himself and his conduct. Our blessed 
 Lord severely reprimands him, and refutes every part of his justl 
 ncation, Satan^ with much semblance of humility, sti) I endeavour* 
 03 
 
298 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 to justify himself ; and professin» his admiration of Jesus, and 
 his regard for virtue, requests to be penniited at a future time 
 to hear wn~f: of his conversation ; but is answered, that this 
 m\l^^ be ao ne shall find permission from above. Satan then dis- 
 appears, and the book closes with a short description of ni^^ht 
 coming' on. 
 
 T WHO ere while the happy Garden sung". 
 
 By one Man's disobedience lost, now sing 
 Recover d Paradise to all mankind. 
 By one Man's firm obedience lully tried 
 Through all temptation, and the Tempter foil'd 5 
 in all his wiles, defeated and repulsed, 
 And Eden raised in the waste wilderness. 
 
 1. Milton's Paradise Retrained has afforded a fruitful subject 
 for critical dispute and consideration, but it is ulliver^ally ai^reed 
 that it by no means occupies the next deg'ree in excellence to 
 Paradise' J.ost. Imp :i feet in the design, and evincin<>- few of 
 those mi^-luy efibi-ts of invention which distingiiisli the foj-mer 
 work of its'sireat autlior, it has never possessed tlie populurity 
 wiiich any composition ot Milton miaht seem to clialleniie. I5ut 
 it should "be impressed upon the reader's mind, that if tlie lioeni 
 be imperfect in its plan, considered as a reiiular epic, tliis is no 
 objection to it when examined according' to the plan which tiie 
 author himself laid down. Milton, 1 tiiink it is beyond doudt, 
 never intended to imitate his Paradise Lost in JLliis [)oem, nor to 
 take any of the classical fnodels to work by. /lis object afipears 
 to have been to shew the coming- of the Messiah, or rather his 
 awful and mysterious entry into the kiuiidom which was to suj> 
 plant for ever that of Satan, and form, as it were, the vestibule 
 of an eternal Paradisej^Commentators have taken it for iinmted 
 that he meant to L;i\e the whoie history of man's restoration; 
 he did not do this, but intended only to shew Christ co e in the 
 flesh, and b that the com) letion of 'those grand promises of the 
 Father which predicted the restoration of mankind. Sufiposinor 
 this to have been his |)nrpose, the temptation in the wilderness 
 was the best point in the New i'estameiU histories he could de- 
 termine on. It represented the Messiah in the full development 
 of al' his human characteristics as born of the woman, and it 
 represented him as warring visibly with Satan before the g-ale 
 of Paradise. The pronnsed Dtiliverer thus come in the flesh, 
 thus siining- fron! the chosen race, contending- with tie prince of 
 this world, and p oving- his divinity by his triumph— the poet 
 misiht well consider the title of Paradise Reg-ained was not too 
 high a name for a work which shews Christ as truly man, and, 
 bv his conquest o^er Satan at the first outset, as truly the Son of 
 GoiL<^'This, I think, may be said in answer to many criticisms on 
 thiiripoem, but if it be less defective as a whole than is commonly 
 believed, it is more impertWt in its g-eneral execution than many 
 are disposed to consider it. There is little or no passion, no 
 stirring description, an 1 scarcely any dialogues, distinunished for 
 more than ordinary power. The character of Christ is very 
 weakly developed, its mysterious nature is reduced to a common- 
 place humanity, and the scenes in which he is attacked by Satan, 
 present nothing: but prettineases of invention or paraphrases of 
 Scripture. 
 
BOOK I. 299 
 
 Thou Spirit, who led'st this glorious eremite 
 Into the desert, his victorious field, 
 Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him thence 
 By proof th' undoubted Son of (iod, inspire, 11 
 
 As thou art wont, my prompted song-, else mute, 
 And bear thro' highth or depth of Nature's bounds, 
 With prosp'rous wing- full summ'd, to tell of deeds 
 Above jieroic, though in secret done, 15 
 
 And unrecorded left through many an age. 
 Worthy t' have not remain'd so long- unsung. 
 Now had the greajt Pi'oclaimer with a voice 
 More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried 
 Repentance, and Heav'n's kingdom nigh at hand 20 
 To all baptized : to his g-reat baptism flock'd 
 With awe the reg-ions round, and with them came 
 From Nazareth the son of Joseph deem'd 
 To the flood Jordan, came as then obscure, 
 Unmark'd, unknown ; but him the Baptist soon 25 
 Descried, divinely warn'd, and witness bore 
 As to his worthier, and would have resign'd 
 To him this heav'nly office, nor was long- 
 His witness uncoiifirm'd ; on him baptized 
 Heav'n open'd, and in likeness of a dove 30 
 
 The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice 
 From Heav'n pronounced him his beloved Son. 
 That heard the Adversary, who roving still 
 About the world, at that assembly famed 
 Would not be last, and with the voice divine 35 
 
 Nigh thunder-struck, th' exalted Man, to whom 
 Such high attest was given, awhile suYvey'd 
 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, 40 
 
 Within thick clouds and dark ten-fold involved 
 A gloomy consistory ; and them amidst 
 With looks aghast and sad he thus bespake : 
 
 O ancient Pow'rs of air, and this wide world 
 For much more willingly I mention air, 45 
 
 This our old conquest, than remember Hell, 
 Our hated habitation ; well ye know 
 
 %S. Divinely ; like the Latin divinitus^ from heaven. 
 44. Eph. h 2. Vi. 12. 
 
30a PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 How many ages, as the years of men, 
 
 This universe we hare possess'd, and ruled, 
 
 In manner at our will th' affairs of Earth, 50 
 
 Since Adam and his facile consort Eve 
 
 Lost Paradise deceived by me, though since 
 
 With dread attending when that fatal wound 
 
 Shall be inflicted by the seed of Eve 
 
 Upon ray head : long the decrees of Heav'n 55 
 
 Delay, for longest time to him is short ; 
 
 And now too soon for us the circling hoiirs 
 
 This dreaded time hath compass'd, wherein we 
 
 Must bide the stroke of that long threatened wound. 
 
 At least if so we can, and by the head 60 
 
 Broken be not intended all our power 
 
 To be infringed, our freedom and our being. 
 
 In this fair empire won of Earth and Air ; 
 
 For this ill news I bring, the woman's seed 
 
 Destined to this, is late of woman born : 65 
 
 Kis birth to our just fear gave no small cause. 
 
 But his growth now to youth's full flow'r displaying- 
 
 All virtue, grace, and wisdom to achieve 
 
 Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear. 
 
 Before him a great prophet, to proclaim 70 
 
 His coming, is sent Harbinger, who all 
 
 Invites, and in the consecrated stream. 
 
 Pretends to wash off sin, and lit them so 
 
 Purified to receive him. pure, or rather 
 
 To do him honour as their king ; all come, 75 
 
 And he himself among them was baptized, 
 
 Not thence to be more pure, but to receive 
 
 The testimony' of Heav'n, that who he is 
 
 Thenceforth the nations may not doubt ; I saw 
 
 The prophet do him reverence, on him rising 80 
 
 Out of the water, Heav'n above the clouds 
 
 Unfold her crystal doors, thence on his head 
 
 A perfect dove descend, v/hate'er it meant. 
 
 And out of Heav'n the Sovereign voice I heard, 
 
 This is my Son beloved, in him am pleased. 85 
 
 His mother then is mortal, but his Sire 
 
 74. 1 John iii. 3. 
 
 83. Matt. iii. 16. Tt is supposed by most of the best commen 
 
 tators, that the Holv Spirit descended not in the shape but in the 
 
 manner of a dove upon our Saviour. Milton seems to have initr- 
 
 preted it in a contrary way. 
 
BOOK I. 301 
 
 He who obtains the monarchy of Heav'n, 
 And what will he not do to' advance his Son ? 
 His first-begot we know, and sore have felt, 
 When his first thunder drove us to the deep ; 90 
 
 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, 95 
 
 But must with something sudden be opposed. 
 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 100 
 
 The dismal expedition to find out 
 And ruin Adam, and th' exploit perform'd 
 Success.fully ; a calmer voyage now 
 Will waft me ; and the way found prosp'rous once 
 Induces best to hope of like sxiccess. 105 
 
 He ended, and his words impression left 
 Of much amazement to th' infernal crew. 
 Distracted and surprised with deep dismay 
 At these sad tidings ; but no time was then 
 For long indulgence to their fears or grief; 110 
 
 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 thrived 
 In Adam's overthrow, and led their march 115 
 
 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, 120 
 
 Where he might likeliest find this new declared. 
 This Man of Men, attested Son of God, 
 Temptation and all guile on him to try ; 
 So to subvert whom he suspected raised 
 To end his reign on Earth so long enjoy'd : 125 
 
 91. There does not appear to be sufficient reason for this sup- 
 position, that Satan did not at first know Christ to be the Messiah. 
 
 122. Man of Men ; this has betn objected to, but without cause, 
 as it well expresses the perfect humanity of Christ and the situa- 
 tion in which he stood as the representative of our race. 
 
302 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 But contrary unweeting he fulfill'd 
 
 The purposed counsel pre-ordain'd and lix'd 
 
 Of the Most High, who in full frequence bright 
 
 Of ang'els, thus to Gabriel smiling- spake ; 
 
 Gabriel, this day by proof thou shalt behold, 130 
 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 135 
 
 Great in renown, and call'd the Son of God ; 
 Then told'st her doubting how these things could be 
 To her a virgin, that on her should come 
 The Holy Ghost, and the power of the Highest 
 O'ershadow her : this man born and now upgrown, 
 To shew him worthy of his birth divine J 41 
 
 And high prediction, henceforth I expose 
 To Satan ; let him tempt and now assay 
 His utmost subtlety, because he boasts 
 And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng 145 
 Of his apostacy ; he might have learnt 
 Less overweening since he fail'd in Job, 
 Whose constant perseverance overcame 
 Whatever his cruel malice could invent. 
 He now shall know I can produce a Man 150 
 
 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 what the first man lost 
 By fallacy surprised. But first I mean 155 
 
 To exercise him in the wilderness. 
 There he shall first lay down the rudiments 
 Of his great warfare, ere I send him forth 
 To conquer Sin and Death, the two grand foes, 
 By humiliation and long sufferance : 160 
 
 His weakness shall o'crcome 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 165 
 
 129. Gabriel is frequently mentioned in Scripture as employed 
 in the gospel dispensation. He is called by rabbinical writers- 
 the Minister of Mercy, as Michael is the Minister of Severity. 
 
BOOK 1. 30B 
 
 This perfect Man, "by merit call'd my Son, 
 To earn salvation for the sons of men. 
 
 So spake th* eternal Father, and all HeaY'n 
 Admiring- stood a space, then into hymns 
 Burst forth, and in celestial raeasures moved, 170 
 Circling- the throne and singing", while the hand 
 Sung with the voice, and this the argument. 
 
 Victory and triumph to the Son of God, 
 Now ent'ring- his great duel, not of arms, 
 But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles. 175 
 
 The Father knov/s the Son ; therefore secure 
 Ventures his filial virtue, though untry'd, 
 Ag-ainst whate'er may tempt, whatever seduce, 
 Allure, or terrify, or undermine. 
 
 Be frustrate all ye stratagems of Hell, 180 
 
 And devilish machinations come to nought ! 
 
 So they in Heav'n their odes and vigils tuned : 
 Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some days 
 Lodged in Bethabara, where John baptized, 
 Musing and much revolving- in his breast, 185 
 
 How best the n\ig-hty v^ork he miglit begin 
 Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first 
 Publish his God-like office now naature. 
 One day forth walk'd alone, the Spirit leading. 
 And his deep thought the better to converse 190 
 
 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 pursued : 195 
 
 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 compared! 200 
 
 When I was yet a child, no childish play 
 To me was pleasing; ; all my mind was set 
 Serious to leai'n f«nd know, and thence to do 
 
 183. John i. 
 189. This is well iniag-ined, bat the same approbation cannot be 
 given to the passag-e immediately following, in which our Lord is 
 represented as a soliloquizing' youtli Just starting on his new 
 career of glory, rather tlran as the Messiah conscious not only o/ 
 bis office but or his Divinity. 
 
S04 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 What might be public g-ood ; myself I thought 
 
 Born to that end, born to promote all truth, 205 
 
 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 
 
 Had measured twice six years, at our great feast 210 
 
 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 admired by all ; yet this not all 
 
 To which my spirit aspired ; victorious deeds 215 
 
 Flamed 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 pow'r, 
 
 Till truth were freed, and equity restored : 220 
 
 Yet held it more humane, more hcav'nly, 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 misdoing, but unware 225 
 
 Misled ; the stubborn only to subdue. 
 
 These growing thoughts my mother soon perceiving. 
 
 By words at times cast forth, inly rejoiced, 
 
 And said to me apart, High are thy thoughts, 
 
 G Son, but nourish them and let them soar 230 
 
 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, 235 
 
 Thy Father is th' eternal King who rules 
 
 All Heav'n and Earth, angels and sons of men ; 
 
 A messenger from God foretold thy birth 
 
 Conceived in me a virgin, he foretold 
 
 Thou should'st be great, and sit on David's throne. 
 
 And of thy kingdom there should be no end. Ml 
 
 At thy nativity a glorious quire 
 
 Of angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung 
 
 To shepherds, watching at their folds by ni^ht 
 
 204. John xviiST. sio. i^„ke jj. 41 
 
JBODK 1. 305 
 
 And told them the Messiah now was born, 245 
 
 Where they might see him, and to tiiee they came. 
 Directed to the manger, where thou lay'st. 
 For in the inn was left no better room : 
 A star, not seen belore, in Heav'n appearing". 
 Guided the wise men thither from the East, 250 
 
 To honour thee with incense, myirh, and gold ; 
 By whose bi'ight course led on, they found the place. 
 Affirming- it thy star new grav'n in Heav'n, 
 By v.'hich they knew the King- of Israel born. 
 Just Simeon and prophetic Anna, warn'd 255 
 
 By vision, found thee in the temple, and spake 
 Before the altar and the vested priest. 
 Like thing's of thee to all that present stood. 
 This having heard, strait I again revolved 
 The Law and Prophets, searching what was writ 260 
 Concerning the Messiah, to our scribes 
 Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake 
 I am ; this chiefly, that my way must lie 
 Thro\igh many a hard assay, even to the death, 
 Ere I the promised kingdom can attain, 2(55 
 
 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 1 oft had heard, 270 
 
 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 believed was from above ; but he 
 Strait knev/ me, and with loudest voice proclaim'd 
 Me him (for it was shewn him so from Heav'n) 276 
 Me him whose harbinger he was, and first 
 Refused on me his baptism to confer. 
 As much his greater, and was hardly won; 
 But as I rose out of the laving stream, 280 
 
 Heav'n 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, 
 
 255. Luke ii. 25. 36. 
 271. Jesus and John were relations on the side of their mothers, 
 but liavinq- be^n broiig-iit up at a distance, it is concluded from 
 JoiiU i. 32. that the> were personally unknown to each other. 
 
306 PARADISE lUi^GAlNblD. 
 
 Audibly heard from Heav'n, pronounced me his, 
 
 Me his beloved Son, in whom alone 286 
 
 He was well pleased; by which I knew the time 
 
 Now full, that I no more sliould live obscure, 
 
 But openly begin, as best becomes 
 
 Th' authority which I derived from Heav'n. 
 
 And now by some strong motion I am led 290 
 
 Into this wilderness, to what intent 
 
 I learn not yet, perhaps 1 need not know ; 
 
 For what concerns my knowledge, God reveals. 
 
 So spake our Morning* Star, then in his rise, 
 And looking round on every side, beheld 295 
 
 A pathless desert, dusk with horrid shades ; 
 The way he came not having mark'd, return 
 Was difficult, by human steps untrod ; 
 And he still on was led, but with such thoughts 
 Accompanied of things past and to come 300 
 
 Lodged 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, 305 
 
 Or cedar, to defend him from the dew. 
 Or harbour'd in one cave, is not reveal'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, 310 
 Nor sleeping him, nor waking harm'd, his walk 
 The fiery serpent fled, and noxious worm. 
 The lion and fierce tiger glared aloof. 
 But now an aged man in rural weeds. 
 Following, as seem'd, the quest of some stray ewe, 315 
 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, 
 
 285. The fulness of time, Gal. iv. 4. 
 307. Jiisiin reads, some cave. 
 
 312. It is well remarked, that the description here g-iven. Is 
 founded on asUirht expression in St. Mark's gospel, i. 13. in which 
 alone it is found. The various particulars mentioned, are ob- 
 served by Warburton to be beautifully introduced, as intimating 
 the restoration of man's former state of secure innocence. Worm 
 is a general term for reptile. 
 
 314. It is supposed, that Milton took the idea of making Satan 
 appear like an old man from a design by D. Vinkhorn. 
 
BOOK I. 307 
 
 He saw approach, who first with curious eye 
 Perused him, then with words thus utter 'd spake ; 320 
 
 Sii% what ill-chance hath broug'ht 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 dropt not here 
 His carcase, pined with hunger and with drought. 325 
 I ask the rather, and the more admire, 
 For that to me thou seem'st the Man whom late 
 Our new baptizing Prophet at the ford 
 Of Jordan honour'd so, and call'd thee Son 
 Of God; I saw and heard, for we sometimes 330 
 
 Who dwell this wild, constrained 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 hither. 
 Will bring me hence ; no other guide I seek. 336 
 
 By miracle he may, reply'd the swain. 
 What other way I see not, for we here 
 Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inured 
 More than the camel, and to drink go far, 340 
 
 Men to such misery and hardship born ; 
 But if thou be the Son of God, command 
 That out of these hard stones be made thee bread, 
 So shalt thou save thyself and us relieve 
 With food whereof we v/retched seldom taste. 345 
 
 He ended, and the Son of God reply'd : 
 Think'st thou such force in bread? Is it not written 
 CFor 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 350 
 
 Our fathers here with manna? in the mount 
 Moses was forty days, nor ate 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, 355 
 
 Knowing who 1 am, as I know who thou art 1 
 
 Whom thus answer'd th' Arch-fiend, now undis- 
 'Tis true, I am that Spirit unfortunate, [guised: 
 
 Who leagued with millions more in rash revolt 
 Kept not my happy station, bat was driven 360 
 
 VV^ith them from bliss to the bottomless deeo. 
 
SaS PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Yet to that hideous place not so confined 
 
 By rigour unconniving", Imt that oft 
 
 Leaving- my dolorous prison, I enjoy 
 
 Large liberty to round this globe of earth, 365 
 
 Or range in th' air, nor from the Heav'n of Heav'ns 
 
 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 ; 370 
 
 And when to all his angels he proposed 
 
 To draw the proud king Ahab into fraud 
 
 That he might fall in Ramoth, they demurring", 
 
 1 undertook that office, and the tongues 
 
 Of all his flatt'ring prophets glibb'd with lies 375 
 
 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 beloved of God, I have not lost 
 
 To love, at least contemplate and admire, 380 
 
 What I see excelleJit 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 
 
 Declared the Son of God, to hear attent 385 
 
 Thy wisdom, and behold thy godlike deeds'? 
 
 Men geiierally think me such a foe 
 
 To all mankind : why should 1 1 they to me 
 
 NeA'er did wrong or violence ; by them 
 
 I lost not what I lost, rather by them 390 
 
 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, 393 
 
 Whereby they may direct their future life. 
 
 Envy they say excites me, thus to gain 
 
 Companions of my misei'y and woe. 
 
 At first it may be ; but long since with woe 
 
 Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof, 400 
 
 That fellowship in pain divides not smart, 
 
 368, Job i. 6. 
 
 372. Fraud ; mischief, so used in Par. Lost, ix. 643. 
 
 See 1 Kings xxii. 19. 
 
BOOK I. a09 
 
 Nor lightens Oub^lit each man's peculiar load. 
 Small consolation then, were man adjoined : 
 This wounds me most (what can it less ?) that man, 
 Man fairn, shall be restored, I never more. 405 
 
 To whom our Saviour sternly thus reply'd : 
 Deservedly thou griev'st, composed of lies 
 From the beginning-, and in lies wilt end; 
 Who boast'st release from Hell, and leave to come 
 Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns : thou com'st indeed, 410 
 As a poor miserable captive thrall 
 Comes to the place where he before had sat 
 Among the prime in splendour, now deposed, 
 Ejected, emptied, gazed, unpitied, shunn'd, 
 A spectacle of ruin or of scorn 415 
 
 To all the host of Heav'n : 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 Heav'n. 420 
 But thou art serviceable to Heav'n's King. 
 Wilt thou impute t' obedience what thy fear 
 Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites 1 
 What hnt thy malice moved thee to misdeem 
 Of righteous Job, then cruelly to' afflict him 425 
 
 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 oracles 430 
 
 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, 431^ 
 
 402. The word niaii here, is not employed by Satan in con- 
 nexion with his own person, but so as to make the passag'e bear 
 tlie following meaning-: I now know by experience, that men by 
 suffering' in multitudes have not the less sense of suffering, and 
 therefore that if join^l with me, they could not alleviate mine. 
 417. Imports, in several editions. 
 
 434. The ambiguity of the ancient oracles in the answers they 
 gave is well known,' and it is most probable that Satan worked 
 the destruction of his votaries as often as their success. It is 
 supposed by several writers on the subject that when true anewer* 
 were returned, a good angel was sent by God to preside : ao 
 line 447. 
 
310 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Which they who ask'd have seldom understood. 
 
 And not well understood, as good not known ? 
 
 AVhoever by consulting- at thy shrine 
 
 Return'd the wiser, or the more instruct 
 
 To fly or follow what concern'd him most, 440 
 
 Amd 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 445 
 
 To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth, 
 
 But from him or his Angels president 
 
 In every province ; who themselves disdaining 
 
 To approach thy temples, give thee in command 
 
 What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say 450 
 
 To thy adorers : thou with trembling- fear, 
 
 Or like a fawning parasite, obey'st ; 
 
 Then to thyself ascrib'st the truth foretold. 
 
 But this thy glory shall be soon retrench'd ; 
 
 No more shalt thou by oracling- abuse 455 
 
 The Gentiles ; henceforth oracles are ceased. 
 
 And thou no more with pomp and sacrifice 
 
 Shalt be inquired at Delphos or elsewhere. 
 
 At least in vain, for they shall iind thee mute. 
 
 God hath now sent his Living- Oracle 460 
 
 Into the world to teach his final will. 
 
 And 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, 465 
 Though inly stung' with anger and disdain 
 Dissembled, and this answer smooth return'd: 
 
 Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke. 
 And urged me hard with doings, which not will 
 But misery hath wrested from me : where 170 
 
 Easily canst thou find one miserable, 
 And not enforced 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 placed above me, thou art Lord, 40'5 
 From thee I can, and must, submiss endure 
 
 458. Delphos was the seat of the most celebrated oracle 
 known in ancient times. 
 
BOOK I. 311 
 
 Check or reproof, and ^lad to 'scape so quit. 
 
 Hard are tlie ways of Truth, and rough to walk. 
 
 Smooth on the tongue discoursed, pleasing- to th' car> 
 
 And tuneable as sylvan pipe or song ; 450 
 
 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 to' attain. 485 
 
 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 vouchsafed his voice 490 
 
 To Balaam reprobate, a prophet yet 
 
 Inspired ; disdain not such access to me. 
 
 To whom our Saviour with unalter'd brow : 
 Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope, 
 I .bid not or forbid ; do as thou lind'st 495 
 
 Permission from above ; thou canst not more. 
 
 He added not; and Satan bowing low 
 His grey dissimxilation, disappear 'd 
 ^nto thin air diffused : for now began 
 Night with her sullen wings to double shade 500 
 The desert ; fowls in their clay nests were couch'd ; 
 And now wild beasts came forth the woods to ro&n>« 
 
BOOK 11. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The disciples of Jesus, uneasy at liis long absence, revoa 
 amongst themselves concerning' ft. Mary also gives vent to her 
 maternal anxiety ; in tlie expression of "which she recapitulates 
 many circumstances respecting tlie birth ancS early life of her Son. 
 Satan again meets his infeinai council, reports the bad success o( 
 his first temptation of our blessed Lord, and calls upon them for 
 council and assistance. Belial proposes the tempting of Jesus 
 with women. Satan rebukes Belial for his dissoluteness, charging 
 on him all the profliiiacy of that kind ascribed by the poets to the 
 heathen gods, and rejects his proposal as in no respect likely to 
 succeed. Satan then suggests other modes of temptation, parti- 
 cularly proposing to avail himself of the circumstance of our 
 Lord's hungering ; and, taking a band of chosen spirits with liim, 
 returns to resume his enterprise. Jesns hungers in the desert. 
 Night comes on ; the manner in which our Saviour passes the 
 night is described. Mornirig advances. Satan aguin appears to 
 Jesus, and, after expressing wonder that he should be so entirely 
 neglected in the wilderness, v/here others had been miraculously 
 fed, tempts him with a sumptuous banquet of the most luxurious 
 kind. This he rejects, and the banquet vanishes. Satan, finding 
 our Lord not to be assailed on the ground of appetite, tempts hira 
 again by offering him riches, as the means of acquiring power ; 
 tiiis Jesus also rejects, producing many instances of Grreat actions 
 performed by persons under virtuous poverty, and specifying the 
 danger of riches, and the cares and pains inseparable from power 
 and grtatness. 
 
 Mean while the new-baptized, 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 declared. 
 And on that high authority had believed, 5 
 
 And with him talk'd, and with him lodged, I mean 
 Andrew and Simon, famous after known, 
 With others, though in Holy Writ not named. 
 Now naissing him their joy so lately found, 
 So lately found, and so abruptly gone, 10 
 
 Began to doubt, and doubted many days. 
 And as the days increased, increased their doubt : 
 Sometimes they thought be might be only shewn, 
 
 1. The almost only variety in the work is in the commencement 
 of this book, but it is very slight, and can-hardly save the poem 
 from the charge of being too uniform in its narrative and in the 
 unornamented style of its language 
 
 4. Warburton has observed, that Mnton is under error here, as 
 the people could only have learnt from what John had said, liiat 
 Jesus was a great prophet. 
 
BOOK II. 313 
 
 A.nd for a time caught up to Go<?, as once 
 
 Moses was in the mount, and missing long ; 15 
 
 And the great Thisbite, who on fiery wheels 
 
 Rode up to Heav'n, yet once again to come. 
 
 Therefore, as those young prophets then with care 
 
 Sought lost Elijah, so in each place these 
 
 Nigh to BetViabara ; in Jericho 20 
 
 The city of Palms, iEnom, and Salem old, 
 
 Machaerus, and each town or city wall'd 
 
 On this side the broad lake Genezaret, 
 
 Or in Peraea ; but return 'd in vain. 
 
 Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek, 25 
 
 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 outhreath'd. 
 
 Alas, from what high hope to what relapse 30 
 
 Unlook'd-for are we fallen I oar 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, 35 
 
 The kingdom shall to Israel be restored ; 
 Thus we rejoiced, but soon our joy is turn'd 
 Into perplexity and new amaze : 
 For whither is he gone, what accident 
 Hath wrapt him from us 1 will he now retire 40 
 
 After appearance, and again prolong 
 Our expectation ? God of Israel, 
 Send thy Messiah forth the time is come ; 
 Behold the kings of th' earth how they oppress 
 Thy chosen, to what height their power unjust 45 
 They have exalted, and behind them cast 
 All fear of thee ; arise ajid vindicate 
 Thy glory, free thy people from their yoke. 
 But let us wait ; thus far he hath perform'd. 
 Sent his Anointed, and to us reveal'd him, 50 
 
 By his great Prophet, pointed at and shewn 
 
 16. 1 King's xvii. 1. 18. 2 King^s ii. 17. 
 
 22. Macharus, a castle in the country beyond Jordan, named 
 
 Peraea. 
 
 23. Genezaret ; the same as the sea of Tiberias, or the 
 
 sea of Galilee. 
 
 34. John i. 14. .'16. Acts i. 6. 
 
 P 
 
314 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 In public, and with him we have conversed : 
 
 Let u? be glad of this, and aii our fears 
 
 Lay on his Providence ; he will not fail, 
 
 Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall, 5I» 
 
 Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence ; 
 
 Soon shall we see our Hope, our Joy, return. 
 
 Thus they out of their plaints new hopes resume, 
 To find whom at the first they foxind unsought : 
 But to his mother Mary, when she saw 60 
 
 Others returned from baptism, not her son, 
 Nor left at Jordan tidings of him none, [pure, 
 
 Within her breast though calm, her breast though 
 Motherly cares and fears got head, and raised 
 Some troubled thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad : 
 
 O what avails me now that honour high 66 
 
 To have conceived of God, or that salute, 
 Hail, highly favour'd, among women blest! 
 While I to sorrows am no less advanced, 
 And fears as eminent, above the lot 70 
 
 Of other women, by the birth I bore, 
 In such a season bom 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 enforced to fly 75 
 
 Thence into Egypt, till the murd'rous king 
 Were dead, who sought his life, and missing fill'd 
 With infant blood the streets of Bethlehem ; 
 From Egypt home returned in Nazareth 
 Hath been our dwelling many years, his life 80 
 
 Private, unactive, calm, contemplative. 
 Little suspicious to any king; but now 
 Full grown to man, acknowledged, as I hear. 
 By John the Baptist, and in public shewn. 
 Son own'd from Heaven by his Father * ^ ^r.^ '. R5 
 I look'd for some great change ; to honoi^r'J m 
 But trouble ; as old Simeon plain foretold, 
 That to the fall and rising he should be 
 Of many in Israel, and to a sig-n 
 
 Spoken against, that through my very soul 90 
 
 A sword shall pierce : this is my favour'd lot. 
 My exaltation to afSictions high ! 
 
 •9. Nazareth was in Galilee, a despised part of the country ; 
 hence John i. 46. 
 
BOOK 11. 315 
 
 /Ifflicted I may be, it seems, and blest ; 
 
 I will not argue that, nor will repine : 
 
 But where delays he now? some great intent 95 
 
 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 1 mused, 
 
 Since understand ; much more his absence now lOii 
 
 Thus long- to some great purpose he obscures. 
 
 But I to wait with patience am inured ; 
 
 My heart hath been a store-house long of things 
 
 And say'ings laid up, portending strange events. 
 
 Thus Mary pond'ring oft, and oft to mind 103 
 
 Recalling what remarkably had pass'd 
 Since first her salutation heard, with thoughts 
 ]V[eekIy composed, awaited the fulfilling; 
 The while her Son, ti-acing the desert wild, 
 Sole, but with holiest meditations fed, 110 
 
 Into himself descended, and at once 
 All his great work, to come before him set ; 
 How to begin, how to accomplish best 
 His end of being on earth, and mission high : 
 For Satan with sly preface to return 11 
 
 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, 
 Solicitous and blank, he thus began: 120 
 
 Princes, Heav'n's ancient Sons, ethereal Thrones, 
 Demonian Spirits now, from th' element 
 Each of his reign allotted, rightlier call'd 
 Powers of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth beneath, 
 Si may we hold our place and these mild seats 125 
 Without new trouble ; such an enemy 
 Is risen to invade vis, who no less 
 Threatens than our expulsion down to Hell ; 
 
 103. The character o» Mary, thouo-h it ran be hardly considered 
 as described, is finely touched. Tlie allusion here is to Luke ii. 
 19. 51. 
 
 122. It was the opinion of the ancients, that every element as 
 well as every corner of the earth hjd ibs peculiar demons. The 
 same opinion appears to have bv^en upheld during- the middle 
 ag-es, and Milton, it is supposed, borrowed many of his notions 
 from the strang-e and mystical works "vhich were formerly written 
 on the subject. 
 
S16 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 I, as I undoT'took, and with the vote 
 
 Consenting- ia full frequence was impower'd, I?,0 
 
 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, 135 
 
 If he be man by mother's side at least. 
 
 With more than human gifts from Heav'n adorn'd. 
 
 Perfections absolute, graces divine, 
 
 And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds; 
 
 Therefore I am return'd, lest confidence 140 
 
 Of my success with Eve in Paradise 
 
 Deceive ye to persuasion over-sure 
 
 Of like succeeding- here ; I summon all 
 
 Rather to be in i*eadiness, with hand 
 
 Or council to assist : lest I, who erst 145 
 
 Thoug-ht none my equal, now be over-match'd. 
 
 So spake th' old Serpent doubting, and from all 
 With clamour was assured their utmost aid 
 At his command ; when from amidst them rose 
 Belial, the dissolutest spirit that fell, 150 
 
 The sensualest, and, after Asmodai, 
 The fleshliest incubus, and thus advised : 
 
 Set women in his eye, and in his walk. 
 Among daughters of men, the fairest found *, 
 Many are in each region passing fair 155 
 
 As the noon sky : more like to goddesses 
 Than mortal creatures, graceful and discreet, 
 Expert in amoi-ous arts, enchanting tongues 
 Persuasive, virgin nvdjesty with mild 
 And sweet allay'd, yet terrible to' approach, 180 
 
 Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw 
 Hearts after them tangled in amoi-ous nets. 
 Su.-h object hath the power to soften and tame 
 Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow, 
 Eiierve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, 165 
 
 Draw out with credulous desire, and lead 
 At will the manliest, resolutest breast, 
 As the magnetic hardest iron draws. 
 Women, when nothing else, beguiled the heart 
 
 168. Mafrnetic ; the adjective for the substantive, as in 
 instances pointed out in the "ar. I ost. 
 
BOOK IT. 317 
 
 Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, 170 
 
 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 175 
 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 
 Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, 180 
 
 And coupled with them, and begot a race. 
 Have we not 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 185 
 
 Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene, 
 Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa, 
 Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more 
 Too long, then lay'st thy 'scapes on names adored, 
 Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, 190 
 
 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 ? 195 
 
 Remember that Pellean conqueror, 
 A youth, how all the beauties of the East 
 He slightly view'd, and slightly overpass'd; 
 How he surnamed of Africa dismiss'd 
 In his prime youth the fair Iberian maid. 200 
 
 For Solomon, he lived 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 women lay exposed : 
 But he whom we attempt is wiser far 205 
 
 Than Solomon, of more exalted mind, 
 
 178, Milton here appears to favour the common notion of the 
 ang-els having united with the daughters of men, but he expresses 
 a contrary opinion, Par. Lost, xi. 621. 
 
 196. Alexander tlie Great, born at Pella, in Macedonia; his 
 conduct towards the wife and daughters of Darius was distin- 
 guished for continency :— as was Scipio's, surnamed Atricaniw, 
 on a similar occasion. 
 
318 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Made and set wholly on th' accomplishment 
 
 Of greatest things ; what wor«an will you find, 
 
 Though of this age the wonder and the fame, 
 
 On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye 21J 
 
 Of fond desire? Or should she, confident. 
 
 As sitting queen adored on Beauty's throne. 
 
 Descend with all her winning charms begirt 
 
 To' enamour, as the zone of Venus once 
 
 Wrought that eifect on Jove, so fables tell ; 215 
 
 How would one look from his majestic brow. 
 
 Seated as on the top of Virtue's hill, 
 
 Discount'nance her despised, and put to rout 
 
 All her array ; her female pride deject, 
 
 Or turn to reverent awe ; for Beauty stands 220 
 
 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 225 
 
 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 ; 230 
 
 And now I know he hungers v/here no food 
 
 Is to be found, in the wide v;ilderness : 
 
 The rest commit to me, I shall let pass 
 
 No advantage, and his strength as oft assay. 
 
 He ceased, and heard their grant in loud acclaim; 
 Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band 236 
 
 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 , 240 
 
 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 246 
 Nor tasted, nor had appetite ; that fast 
 
 544. An inaccuracy has been pointed out in this line, as our 
 Saviour did not now first hunger. 
 
BOOK ir. 319 
 
 To virtue I impute not, or count part 
 
 Of what I suiFer here ; if Nature need not, 
 
 Or God support Nature without repast 250 
 
 Though needing, what praise is it to endure I 
 
 But now I feel I hung-er, which declares 
 
 Nature hath need of what she asks ; yet God 
 
 Can satisfy that need some other way, 
 
 Thougih hunger still remain : so it remain 255 
 
 V¥ithout this body's wasting, I content me. 
 
 And tVom 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 2fll) 
 Communed 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, 261 
 And saw the ravens with their horny beaks 
 Food to Elijah bringing even and morn, 
 Tiiough ravenous, taught to' abstain from what they 
 Me saw the prophet also how he fled [brought; 
 
 Into the desert, and how there he slept 271 
 
 Under a juniper; then how awaked 
 tie found his supper on the coals prepared. 
 And by the angel was bid rise and eat, 
 uiJ eat the second time after repose, 275 
 
 The strength whereof sufliced him forty days ; 
 Sometimes that with Elijah he partook. 
 Or as a guest v/ith Daniel at his pulse. 
 
 Thus wore out night, and now the herald lark 
 Left liis ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry US9 
 The Morn's approach, and greet her with his song : 
 As lightly from his grassy couch uprose 
 Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream. 
 Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting waked : 
 Up to a hill anon his steps he rear'd, 283 
 
 Fi"om whose high top to ken the prospect round. 
 If cottage Avere in view, sheep-cote or herd; 
 
 259. John iv. 34. 
 
 26G. Htm thought, as we say, me thoug^ht. 1 King's xvii. a, o. 
 
 and six. 4. Dan. i. 
 
320 PARA.DISE REGAINED. 
 
 But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote none he saw 
 
 Only' in a bottom saw a pleasant grove, 
 
 With chaunt of tuneful birds resounding loud ; 290 
 
 Thither he bent his way, determined there 
 
 To rest at noon, and enter'd soon the shade 
 
 High rooft, and walks beneath, and alleys brown, 
 
 That open'd in the midst a woody scene ; 
 
 Nature's own work it seem'd (Nature taught Art) 
 
 And to a superstitious eye the haunt 296 
 
 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, 300 
 
 A.nd 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 305 
 
 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 310 
 
 Of Israel here had famish'd, had not God 
 Rain'a from Hea/'n manna ; and that prophet bold 
 Native of Thebez, wand'ring here was fed 
 Twice by a voice inviting him to eat : 
 Of thee these forty days none hath regard, 315 
 
 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, 320 
 
 Would'st thou not eat ? Thereafter as I like 
 The giver, answer'd Jesus. Why shoiild that 
 Cause thy refusal? said the subtle fiend. 
 Hast thou not right to all created things? 
 Owe not all creatures by just right to thee 325 
 
 308. Gen. xvi. 6. Nebaioth was the eldest son of Ishmael, 
 
 and it is supposed is here put by mistaiie for the latter. 
 
 313. Thebez, Tishbe, where Elijah was born, hence the allusion. 
 
 The wilderness in which our Saviour was at this time, was not 
 
 the same with those in which Hagar, &c. are represented as wan- 
 
 ()«iriusr 
 
B(U)K If. $2\ 
 
 Uuty and sers'ice not to stay till bid, 
 But tender all their power ? nor mention 1 
 Meats by the law unclean, or offer'd first 
 To idols, those young Daniel could refuse ; 
 Nor proffer'd by an enemy, though who 3dO 
 
 Would scruple that, with v/ant oppress'd? Behold, 
 Nature ashamed, or, better to express, 
 Troubled that thou shouldst hunger, hath pui'vey'd 
 From all the elements her choicest store 
 To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord, 3^5 
 
 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, 340 
 
 With dishes piled, and meats of noblest sort 
 And savour, beasts of chase, or fowl of g'ame. 
 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, 345 
 
 And exquisitest name, for which was drain'd 
 Pontus, and Lucrine bay, and Afric coast. 
 Alas ! how simple, to these cates compared. 
 Was that crude apple that diverted Eve ! 
 And at a stately side-board, by the wine 350 
 
 That fragrant smell diffused, in order stood 
 Tall stripling youths rich clad, of fairer hue 
 Than Ganymed or Hylas ; distant Kiore 
 Under the trees now tripp'd, now solemn stood, 
 Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades, 355 
 
 With fruit.s and flov/'rs from Amalthea's horn, 
 And ladies of th' Hesperides, that seem'd 
 Fairer than feign'd of old, or fabled since 
 Of faery damsels met in forest wide 
 By knights of LogTes, or of Lyones, 360 
 
 Lancelot, or Pelleas, or Pellenore : 
 And all the while harmonious airs were heard 
 Of chiming strings, or charming pipes, and winds 
 Of gentlest gale Arabian odours fann'd 
 
 344. Gru-amher, Ambergris was formerly used to great excess 
 in the flavouring of certain dishes. 
 
 347. The places here mentioned were famous m antiquity for 
 their fish. 
 
 319. Diverted, in the Latin sense, turned aside. 
 P2 
 
S22 PARADISE REGAINED 
 
 From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells. 334 
 Such was the splendour, and the Tempter now 
 His invitation earnestly renewed. 
 
 What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat? 
 These are not fruits forbidden ; no interdict 
 Defends the touching- of these viands pure ; 370 
 
 Their taste no knowledg-e works, at least of evil. 
 But life preserves, destroys life's enemy, 
 Hung:er, with sweet restorative delig-ht. 
 All these are spirits of air> and woods, and spring".^, 
 Thy g-entle ministers, who come to pay 375 
 
 Thee homag'e, and acknowledg'e thee their Lord : 
 What doubt'st thou, Son of God 1 sit down and eat. 
 
 To whom thus Jesus temp'rately reply'd : 
 Said'st thou not that to all things I had right? 
 And who withholds my power that right to use 1 H&O 
 Shall 1 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 385 
 
 Array 'd in glory on my cup to' 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, 390 
 
 A.nd count thy specious gifts no gifts but guiles. 
 
 To whom thus answer'd Satan malecontent ; 
 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 pleased, 395 
 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, 400 
 
 Whose pains have earn'd the far-fet spoil. With that 
 Both table and provision vanish'd quite 
 With sound of harpies' wings, and talons heard ; 
 
 S73. Defends; as in Par. Lost, like the French defendref to 
 forbid. 385. So in Shakspeare's Hamlet, Act 5, Sc. 6. 
 
 401. Fe^ instead of fetched, for softness; the word is used by 
 Chaucer, Spenser, &c. 
 
BOOK II. 323 
 
 Only th' impdrtune Tempter still remain'd, 
 
 And with these words his temptation pursued : 405 
 
 By hunger, that each other creature tames, 
 Thou art not to be harm'd ; therefore not moved ; 
 Thy temperance invincible besides. 
 For no allurement yields to appetite. 
 And all thy heart is set on high designs, 410 
 
 High actions; but wherewith to be achieved? 
 Great acts require great means of enterprise ; 
 Thou art un.vnown, unfriended, low of birth, 
 A carpenter thy father known, thyself 
 Bred up in poverty and straits at home, 415 
 
 Lost in a desert here and hunger-bit ; 
 Which way, or from what hope, dost thou aspire 
 To greatness'? whence authority derivest? 
 What followers, what retinue, canst thou gain. 
 Or at thy heels the dizzy multitude, 4^ 
 
 Long-er than thou canst feed them on thy cost? 
 Money bring-s honour, friends, conquest, and realms : 
 What raised Antipater the Edomite, 
 And his son Herod placed on Judah's throne 
 (Thy throne), but g"old that got him puissant friends t 
 Therefore, if at great things thou would'st ai'rive, 420 
 Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap. 
 Not difficult, if thou heai'ken to me ; 
 Riches are mine, Fortune is in my hand ; 
 They whom 1 favour thrive in wealth amain, 430 
 While Virtue, Valour, Wisdom, sit in want. 
 
 To whom thus Jesus patiently reply 'd : 
 Yet wealth without these three is impotent 
 To gain dominion, or to keep it gain'd. 
 Witness those ancient empires of the earth, 433 
 
 In highth of all their flowing wealth dissolved : 
 But men endued with these have oft attain'd 
 In lowest poverty to highest deeds ; 
 Gideon, and Jephtha, and the shepherd lad, 
 
 420. This verse is elliptical, and requires the verb gain to be 
 understood. 
 
 423. Antipater was the father of Flerod, whom it is supposed 
 he got raised to the throne of Judea, through the influence of his 
 wealth. 
 
 429. This temptation as well as that of the feast, the reader will 
 recognise as the invention of the poet, and not formiug a part oi 
 UiG Scripture narrative. 
 
 439. The shepherd lad, David, 
 
S24 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Whose oiTspriiig on the throne of Judah sat 4'10 
 
 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 '445 
 
 Quintius, Fabricius, Curius, Regulus 1 
 
 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 1 450 
 
 May also in this poverty as soon 
 
 Accomplish what they did, perhaps and more 1 
 
 Extol not riches then, the toil of fools, 
 
 The wise man's curabrance if not snare, more apt 
 
 To slacken virtue, and abate her edg-e, 455 
 
 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 dang-ers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights. 
 
 To him who wears the regal diadem, 461 
 
 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. 46? 
 
 Yet he who reigns Avithin 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, 47* 
 
 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, 47S 
 
 Is yet more kingly ; this attracts the soul, 
 
 446. Quintius; Cincinnatus, who was ploug'hine;' when called to 
 he the Dictator of Roiue.— Fair iciw*, another Roman, who, thoug-h 
 offered ahundant wealth by king Pyrrhus, returned to his home, 
 and lived and died in poverty. — Curius JJenlatus, and Rcgnhis, 
 Romans also. The farmer rejected the riches offered both by his 
 cx)untrymen and foreig-ners, the lattei braved the most frig-htful 
 torments from the Carthag-inians, rather than persuade his country 
 to njake peace with them 
 
BOOK II. 325 
 
 Gorerns the inner man, the nobler part ; 
 
 That other o'er the body only reigns. 
 
 And oft by force, which to a generous mind 
 
 So reig-ning can be no sincere delight. (180 
 
 Besides, to 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, 485 
 
 To gain a sceptre, oftest better miss'd. 
 
 481. The great examples which monarchs have given of abdi 
 eating their" thrones were after the time of our Saviour, but it 
 is most probable Milton had Diocletian and Charles V. in hii» 
 mind. I here is a great deal of noble sentiment in the above 
 reply of our Lord ; but the noblest morality of philosophy fails 
 of inspiring those particular feelings of awe and trembling ex- 
 pectation with which the scene of Christ's mysterious contest fills 
 the mind. Milton's imagination was, if I may use the expression, 
 the imagination of sense, of vision, and material forms; his con- 
 ception ^of purely spiritual things was imperfect, and hence his 
 frequent recourse to the set phrases and moral aphorisms of the 
 classic philosophers, when it is the exposition of llie spirit itself, 
 not of particular sentiment, which the mind requires. Through- 
 out the poem the defect of his genius in this respect is constantly 
 evident; our Saviour speaks through Milton's memory; no 
 thought occurs which shews the God-man, as the one sole being 
 who through eternity has united divinity and humanity, and tlie 
 answers he makes might be put into the mouth of any virtuous 
 and gifted mortal. The design of Paradise Regained, notwith- 
 standing all commentators may say, was sufficiently large and 
 perfect for a most noble poem, but the author wanted, to make 
 .uch a pian successful, a mind more fond of searching into th« 
 iieat springs of thouarht a^vji power. 
 
326 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, in a speech of much flattering- commendation, endea- 
 vours to awaken in Jesus a passion for glory, by particnlarizino: 
 various instances of conquests achieved, and great actions per- 
 formed, by persons at an early period of life. Our Lord replies, 
 by shewing the vanity of worldly fame, and tne improper means 
 by which it is arenerally attained ; and contrasts with it the true 
 g-iory of religious patience and virtuous wisdom, as exemplitied 
 in the character ot Job. Satan justifies the love of glory from 
 the example of God himself, who requires it from all his crea- 
 tures. Jesus detects the fallacy of this argument, by shewing that, 
 as goodness is the true ground on which'glory is due to the great 
 Creator of all things, sinful man can have no right whatever to 
 it.- Satan then urges Otir Lord respecting his claim to the throne 
 of David; he tells him that the kingdom of Judea, being at that 
 time u province of Rome, cannot be got possession of without 
 much personal exertion on his part, and presses him ro lose no 
 time in beginning to reiijrn. Jesus refers him to the time allotted 
 for this, as for ail other things ; and, after intimating somewhat 
 respecting his own previous sufferings, asks Satan wliy he should 
 be solicitous for the exuhation of one, whose rising was destined 
 to be his fall. Satan replie^^, tiiat his own desperate slate, by ex- 
 chuling all hope, leaves little room for fear; and that, as his owii 
 punishment was equally doomgd, he is not interested in pre\enr- 
 ing the reign of one, for whose apparent benevolence he might 
 rather hope for some interference in his favour., Satan still 
 pursues his former incitements; and, supposing that the seeming 
 reluctance ot Jesus to be thus advanced might arise from his 
 being unacquainted with the world and its glories, conveys him 
 to the summit of a high mountain, and from thence shews him 
 most of the kingdom of Asia, particularly pointing out to his 
 notice some extraordinary military preparations of the Farthians 
 to resist the incursions of the Scythians. He then informs our 
 Lord, that he shewed him this purposely that he mig;ht see ho\v 
 necessary military exertions are to retain the possession of king- 
 doms, as well as to subdue them at first, and advises him to 
 consider how impossible it was lo maintain Judea agains, two 
 such powerful neighbours as the Romans and Parthians, and how 
 necessary it wouid be to forui an alliance with one or other of 
 them. At the same time he recdm mends, and engages to secure 
 to him, that of the Parthians; and tells him, thatby this means 
 his power will be defended from any thing that Rome or Ca-sar 
 might attempt against it, and that he will be able to extend his 
 glory wide, and especially to accomplish what was particularly 
 necessary to make the throne of Judea really the throne of 
 David, the deliverance and restoration of the ten tribes, still in 
 a state of captivity. Jesus, having briefly noticed the vanity of 
 military efforts, and the weakness of the arm of flesh, says, tiiat 
 when the time comes for his ascending his allotted th.rone, he 
 shall not be slack: he remarks on Satan's extraordinary zeal for 
 the deliverance of the Israelites, to whom he had always shewn 
 himself an enemy, and declares their servitude to be the conse- 
 quence of their" idolatry; but adds, that at a future time it may 
 perhaps please God to recall them, and restore them to their 
 liberty and native land. 
 
 So spake the Son of God, and Satan stood 
 A. while as mute confounded what to say. 
 
BOOK 111. 327 
 
 What to reply, confuted and convinced 
 
 Of his weak arg-uing-, and fallacious drift ; 
 
 At length collecting- all his serpent wiles, 5 
 
 With soothing words renew'd, him thus accosts : 
 
 I see thou know'st what is of use to know. 
 What best to say can say, to do canst do ; - 
 Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words 
 To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heart W 
 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 1.*" 
 
 Infallible ; or wert thou sought to deeds 
 That might require th' ai-ray of war, thy skill 
 Of conduct would be such, that all the world 
 Could not sustain thy pi-owess, or subsist 
 In battle, though against thy few in arms. 20 
 
 These godlike virtues wherefore dost thou hide, 
 Affecting private life or more obscure 
 In savage wilderness '? wherefore deprive 
 All earth ker wonder at thy acts, thyself 
 The fame and glory, glory the reward 25 
 
 That sole excites to high attempts, the flame 
 Of most erected spirits, most temper 'd pure 
 Ethereal, who all pleasures else despise, 
 All treasures and all gain esteem as dross. 
 And dignities and powers all but the highest 1 30 
 
 Thy years are ripe, ar»d over-ripe ; the son 
 Of Macedonian Philip had ere these 
 Won Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held 
 At his dispose ; young Scipio had brought down 
 The Carthaginian pride; young Porapey quell d 35 
 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 Avorld admires, 
 
 11. Shape, idea, in its most perfect sense. 
 13. What the Urim and Tbianmim were is not known: It is 
 supposed, as the words signify lig-ht and perfection, that the pro- 
 phetic virtue Inherent jnl;he sacred breast-plate, or in the gems 
 which composed it, is to be understood by them. 
 31. See Luke iii. 23. 
 36. The Pontic king, Mimridates, against whom Pompey wad 
 ■ent, but he was then it is believed turned of forty. 
 
 C 
 
328 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 The more he grew in years, the more inflamed 40 
 With glory, wept that he had lived so long 
 Inglorious : but thou yet art not too late. 
 
 To whom our Saviour calmly thus reply'd : 
 Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth 
 For empire's sake, nor empire to affect 45 
 
 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 confused, 
 A miscellaneous rabble, who extol 50 
 
 Things vulgar, and, well weigh'd, scarce worth the 
 
 praise ? 
 They praise and they admire they know not what, 
 And know not whom, but ay one leads the other; 
 And what delig-ht to be by such extoll'd, 
 To live upon their tongues and be their talk, 55 
 
 Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise ? 
 His lot who dares be sing-ularly good. 
 Th' intelligent among- them and the wise 
 Are few, and glory scarce of few is raised. 
 This is true glory and renown, when God 60 
 
 Looking on th' earth, with approbation marks 
 The just man, and divulges him through Heav'n 
 To all his angels, who with true applause 
 Recount his praises ; thus he did to Job, 
 When to extend his fame through Heav'n and Earth, 
 As thou to thy reproach may'st well remember, 66 
 He ask'd thee. Hast thou seen my servant Job? 
 Famous he was in Heav'n, on Earth less known; 
 Where glory is false glory attributed 
 To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. 70 
 They err who count it glorious to subdue 
 By conquest far and wide, to over-run 
 Large countries, and in fields gTeat battles win. 
 Great cities by assault : what do these worthies. 
 But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and inslave 75 
 Peaceable nations, neighb'ring, or remote. 
 Made captive, yet deserving freedom more 
 Than those their conquerors, who leave behind 
 
 41. Julius Caesar, it is said, wept on reading the li'"e of Alex- 
 ander, that he had done so little at his ag-e.— Alexander died wheti 
 be was about 34 years old. 67. Job i. 8. 
 
BOOK 111 3211 
 
 Nothing- but ruin wheresoe'er they rove. 
 And all the flourishing' works of peace destroy ; 80 
 Then swell with pride, and must be titled Gods, 
 Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers, 
 Worsliipp'd with temple, priest, and sacrifice ? 
 One is the son of Jove, of Mars the other: 
 Till conqu'ror Death discover them scarce men, 85 
 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 ; 90 
 
 By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent, 
 By patience, temperance : I mention still 
 Him, whom thy wrongs with saintly patience boriue 
 Made famous in a land and times obscure ; 
 Who names not now with honour patient Job? 95 
 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 conqueroi's. 
 Yet if for fame and glory aught be done, 100 
 
 Aught suffer'd ; if young- African for fame 
 His wasted country freed from Punic rage. 
 The deed becomes unpraised, the ivian at least, 
 And loses, though but verbal, his reward. 
 Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek, 105 
 
 Oft not deserved ? I seek not mine, but His 
 Who sent me, and thereby witness whence I am. 
 To whom the Tempter murmuring thus reply'd: 
 Think not so slight of glory ; therein least 
 Resembling- thy great Father ; he seeks glory, 110 
 And for his glory all things made, all things 
 Orders and governs ; nor content in Heav'n 
 By all his angels glorify'd, requires 
 Glory from men, from all men, good or bad, 
 Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption; 115 
 Above all sacrifice, or hallow'd gift, 
 Glory he requires, and glory he receives 
 Promiscuous from all nations, Jew or Greek, 
 
 101* Young African, Scipio Africanus, who freed Rome froin 
 
 tbe tlireatened invasion of the Carthaginians. 
 
 106. John nil. 49, 50. 
 
330 PARADISE REGAINED 
 
 Or barbarous, nor exemption hath declared : 
 
 From us his foes pronounced glory he exacts. 120 
 
 To whom our Saviour fervently reply'd : 
 And reason ; since his word all things produced, 
 Though chiefly not for glory as prime end, 
 But to shew forth his goodness, and impart 
 His good communicable to .every soul 125 
 
 Freely ; of whom what could he less expect 
 Than glory and benediction, that is thanks, 
 The slig-htest, easiest, readiest recompense 
 From them who could return him nothing else. 
 And not returning that would likeliest render 130 
 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 135 
 
 But condemnation, ignominy, and shame'? 
 Who for so many benefits received 
 Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate, and false. 
 And so of all true good himself despoil'd ; 
 Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take 140 
 
 That which to God alone of right belongs ; 
 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 145 
 
 Satan had not to answer, but 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 glory, as thou wilt, said he, so deem, 150 
 
 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 155 
 Easily from possession won with arms : 
 Judsea now and all the Promised Land, 
 Reduced a province under Roman yoke, 
 
 158. Judaea was reduced from beinef an independent king-dom 
 to a Roman province in the reign of Augustus, and when ouf 
 Saviour was about twelve years ol3. 
 
BOOK III. 331 
 
 Obeys Tiberius ; nor is always ruled 
 
 With temperate sway ; oft have they violated 100 
 
 The temple, oft the law, witli foul affronts. 
 
 Abominations rather, as did once 
 
 Antiochus : and think'st thou to regain 
 
 Thy right by sitting still or thus retiring 1 
 
 So did not Maccabeus : he indeed 105 
 
 Retired unto the desert, bat 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. 170 
 
 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 175 
 
 Thy country from her Heathen servitude ; 
 
 So shalt thou best fulfil, best verify 
 
 The prophets old, who sung thy endless reign ; 
 
 The happier reign the sooner it begins ; 
 
 Reign then ; what canst thou better do the while ? 
 
 To whom our Saviour answer thus return'd : 181 
 All things are best fulfill'd in theij* due time, 
 And time there is for all things, truth hath said : 
 Jf of my reign prophetic writ hath told 
 That it shall never end, so when begin 185 
 
 The Father in his purpose hath decreed, 
 He in whose hand all times and seasons roll. 
 What if he hath decreed that 1 shall first 
 Be tried in humble state, and things adverse. 
 By tribulations, injuries, insults, 100 
 
 Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence, 
 Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting. 
 Without distrust or doubt, that he ntay know 
 What I can suffer, how obey 1 who best 
 Can suffer, best can do ; best reign, who first 105 
 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? 200 
 
 I60t Pompey profaned the Holv of Holies; for Antiochus, 
 see 2 Maccab. y. 183. Ecclcs, iii. 
 
332 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall, 
 And my promotion will be thy destruction ? 
 
 To whom the Tempter inly rack'd reply'd : 
 Let that come when it comes ; all hope is lost 
 Of my reception into grace ; what worse 1 205 
 
 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 my ultimate repose, 210 
 
 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 tbat gentle brow 215 
 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's ire 
 (Whose ire I dread more than the fii'e of Hell) 220 
 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, 225 
 
 That thou who worthiest art should'st 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, 230 
 
 Or human nature can receive, consider 
 Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent 
 At home, scar.ce vicw'd the Galilean towns. 
 And once a year Jerusalem, few days' 234 
 
 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, unexperienced, will be ever ^40 
 
 Timorous and loath, with novice modesty 
 (As he who seeking asses found a kingdom) 
 Irresolute, unhardy, unadventurous : 
 206. See Par. Lost, iv. 108. 234. Lnke ii. 41. 242. 1 Sara. ix. 
 
BOOK III. 333 
 
 But I will bring thee where thou soon shalt quit 
 
 Those rudiments, and see befi>re thine eyes 245 
 
 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 niay'st know 
 
 How best their opposition to withstand. 250 
 
 With that (such power was given him then) he took 
 The Son of God up to a mountain high. 
 It was a mountain at whose verdant feet 
 A spacious plain, out-stretcL'd in circuit wide. 
 Lay pleasant ; from his side two rivers flow'd, 255 
 Th' one winding, th' other straight, and left between 
 Fair champain with less rivers intervein'd. 
 Then meeting, join 'd their tribute to the sea: 
 Fertile of corn the glebe, of oil and wine ; 5^59 
 
 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 265 
 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, 270 
 
 Araxes and the Caspian lake, thence on 
 As far as Indus east, Euphrates west, 
 And oft beyond ; to south the Persian bay. 
 And inaccessible th' Arabian drought : 
 Here Nineveh, of length within her wall 275 
 
 Several days' journey, built by Ninus ola, 
 Of that first golden monarchy the seat. 
 And seat of Salmanassar, whose success 
 Israel in long captivity still mouras ; 
 There Babylon, the wonder of all tongues, 280 
 
 As ancient, but rebuilt by him v/ho twice 
 Judah and all thy father David's house 
 
 275. Nineveh was built by Ninus, and was situated on the river 
 Tigris. It is said to have been 15 miles long, 9 broad, and 48 in 
 circumfeience. The walls round it were 100 feet high, and broad 
 enongh for three chariots to drive abreast on them. 
 
 280. Babylon was situated on the Euphrates. See Dan. iv. 30. 
 5f Kings xxiv. and xxv. 
 
834 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste. 
 
 Till Cyrus set them free ; Persepolis 
 
 His city there thou seest, and Bactra there ; XS^ 
 
 Ecbatana her structure vast there shews 
 
 And Hecatompylos her hundred gates ; 
 
 There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream, 
 
 The drink of none but king's ; of later fame 
 
 Built by Emathian, or by Parthian hands, ^0 
 
 The great Seleucia, Nisibis, and there 
 
 Artaxata, Teredon, Ctesiphon, 
 
 Turning- with easy eye thou may*st behold. 
 
 All these the Parthian, now some ages past. 
 
 By great Arsaces led, who founded first 295 
 
 That empire, under his dominion holds. 
 
 From the luxurious kings of Antioch won. 
 
 And just in time thou com'st to have a view 
 
 Of this great power ; for now the Parthian king 
 
 In Ctesiphon hath gather 'd all his host 300 
 
 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 ; 306 
 
 All horsemen, in which fight they most excel; 
 
 See how in warlike muster they appear, 
 
 In rhombs and wedges, and half-moons, and wings. 
 
 He look'd, and saw what numbers numberless 310 
 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 ; -316 
 
 From Arachosia, from Candaor east, 
 And Margiana to the Hyrcanian cliffs 
 Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales. 
 From Atropatia and the neighbouring plains 
 Of Adiabene, Media, and the south 320 
 
 Of Susiana, to Balsara's haven. 
 
 284. Persepolis and BactrOf cities of Persia — Ecbatana, the 
 capital of Media. — Hecatompylos, of Parthia. 
 
 300. Ctesiphon, wvis the winter residence of the Parthian kings, 
 — Sogdiana was the province most exposed to the Scythians, and 
 nearest their country. 
 
 315. Arachosia, Sec. &c. provinces of Parthia. 
 
BOOK III. 335 
 
 He saw them in their forms of battle ranged. 
 
 How quick they wheel'd, and flying behind them-^shot 
 
 Sharp sleet of arroM^y showers against the face 
 
 Of their pursuers, and overcame by flight ; 325 
 
 The field all iron cast a gleaming brown : 
 
 Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn 
 
 Cuirassiers ail in steel for standing fight. 
 
 Chariots or elepbants indorsed with towers 
 
 Of archers, nor of labouring pioneers 330 
 
 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 ; 
 
 Mules after these, camels and dromedaries, 335 
 
 And waggons fraught with utensils of war. 
 
 Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp. 
 
 When Agrican with all his northern powers 
 
 Besieged Albracca, as romances tell. 
 
 The city of Gallaphrone, from whence to win 340 
 
 The fairest of her sex, Angelica 
 
 His daughter, sought by many pro west knights. 
 
 Both Paynim, and the peers of Charlemain. 
 
 Such and so numerous was their chivalry ; 
 
 At sight whereof the Fiend yet more presumed, 345 
 
 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 shewn 
 All this fair sight: thy kingdom, though foretold 351 
 By prophet or by angel, unless thou 
 Endeavour, as thy father David did, 
 I'hou never shalt obtain, prediction still 
 In all things, and all men, supposes means ; 355 
 
 Without means used, what it predicts revokes. 
 But say thou wert possess'd of David's throne 
 By free consent of all, none opposite, 
 Samaritan or Jew ; how could'st thou hope 
 Long to enjoy it quiet and secure, 360 
 
 Between two such inclosing enemies, 
 
 323. The known custom of the Parthians in their warfare. 
 
 327. Clouds of foot ; an Homeric expression. 
 
 3i-'9. Indorsed; from the Latin i?*, upon, and dorsz/m, the back^ 
 
 •i38. An allusion to Boiardo's Orlando Inamorato, B. i. Can. 10. 
 
 Z 
 
336 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Roman and Parthian ? therefore one of these 
 Thou must make sure thy ovvmi, the Parthian first 
 By my advice, as neai'er, and of late 
 Found able by invasion to annoy 3€5 
 
 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. 370 
 By him thou shalt regain, without him not, 
 That which alone can truly reinstall thee 
 In David's royal seat, his true successor. 
 Deliverance of thy brethren, those Ten Tribes 
 Whose offspring in his teiTitory yet serve, 375 
 
 In Habor, and among the Medes dispersed ; 
 Ten sons of Jacob, two of Joseph lost 
 Thus long from Israel, serving as of old 
 Their fathers in the land of Egypt served, 
 This offer sets before thee to deliver. 380 
 
 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 Caesar need not fear. 385 
 
 To whom our Saviour answer'd thus unmoved : 
 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 390 
 Vented much policy, and projects deep 
 Of enemies, of aids, battles, and leagues, 
 Plausible to the world, to me worth nought. 
 Means I must use, thou say'st, prediction else 
 Will unpredict and fail me of the throne : 395 
 
 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 pai't aught endeavouring, or to need 
 Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome 40n 
 
 Luggage of war there shewn me, argument 
 Ui human weakness rather than of strength. 
 
 366. Hyrcanus was taken captive and carried to Seleuci.i, 
 
 but Antigonus was made king of the Jews. 
 
 .•^76. 2 King's xviii. 11. 3S6. John ii. 4, 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 337 
 
 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 405 
 
 To just extent over all Israel's sons. 
 
 But whence to thee this zeal, where was it then 
 
 For Israel, or for David, or his throne. 
 
 When thou stood'st up his tempter to the pride 
 
 Of numbering' Israel, which cost the lives 410 
 
 Of threescore and terPthousand Israelites 
 
 By three days' pestilence? such was thy zeal 
 
 To Israel then, the same that now to me ! 
 
 As for those captive tribes, themselves were they 
 
 Who wrought their own captivity, fell off 415 
 
 From God to worship calves, the deities 
 
 Of Eg-ypt, Baal next and Ashtaroth, 
 
 And all th' idolatries of Heathens round, 
 
 Besides their other worse than heathenish crimes; 
 
 Nor in the land of their captivity 420 
 
 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, 425 
 
 And God with idols in their worship join'd. 
 
 Should I of these the liberty regard, 
 
 V^'ho, freed, as to their ancient patrimony, 
 
 Unhumb^'^d, ur^epe^tant, unreform'd, 
 
 h.eaalong would follow ; and to their gods perhaps 
 
 Of Bethel and of Dan? no, let them serve 431 
 
 Their enemies, who serve idols with God. 
 
 Yet he at length, time to himself best kno^vn, 
 
 Remembering Abraham, by some wondrous call 
 
 May bring them back repentant and sincere, 435 
 
 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 Promised Land their fathers pass'd ; 
 
 To his due time and providence I leave them. 440 
 
 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 Falsehood contends. 
 
 409. 1 Chron. xxi. 1. 
 
 414. See the history of the tribes in the book of Kings. 
 
 436. See Rev. xvi. 13, 
 
 .M> 
 
BOOK IV. 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, persisting in the temptation of our Lord, shews him im- 
 perial Rome in its greatest pomp and splendour, as a power 
 which he probably would prefer before that of the Parthians; 
 and tell? him that he mi'jht with the greatest ease expel Tiberius, 
 restore tlie Romans to their liberty, and make himself master not 
 only of the Roman empire, but, by so doing-, of the whole world, 
 and inclusively of the throne of David. Our Lord, in reply, ex- 
 
 firesses his contempt of grandeur and worldly power, notices the 
 uxury, vanity, and proliisiacy, of the Romans, declaring how 
 iiiUe they merited to be restored to that liberty which they had 
 lost by their misconduct, and briefly refers to the greatness of his 
 own future kingdom. Satan, now desperate, to enhance the value 
 of his proffered gifts, professes that the only terms on which he 
 will bestow them, are our Saviour's falling down and worshipping 
 him. Our Lord expresses a firm but temperate indignation at 
 such a proposition, and rebukes the tempter by the title of ' Satan 
 for ever damn'd.' Satan, abashed, attempts to justify himse.f : he 
 then assumes a new ground of temptation, and proposing to Jesus 
 the intellectual gratifications of wisdom and knowledge, points out 
 to him the celebrated seat of ancient learning, Athens, its schools, 
 and other various resorts of learned teachers and their disciples ; 
 accompanying the view with a highly-finished panegyric on the 
 Grecian m'usicians, poets, orators, and philosophers of the different 
 sects. Jesus replies, by shewing the vanity and insudiciency of 
 the boasted heathen philosophy : and prefers to the music, poetry, 
 eloquence, and didactic policy, of the Greeks, those of the in- 
 spired Hebrew writers. Satan, irritated at the failure of all his 
 attempljs, upbraids the indiscretion of our Saviour in rejecting his 
 offers: 'and having, in ridicule of his expected kingdom, foretold 
 the sufferings tliat our Lord was to undergo, carries him back 
 Into the wilderness, and leaves him there. Night comes on: 
 Satan raises a tremendous storm, and attempts farther to alarm 
 Jesus with frightful dreams, and terrific threatening spectres; 
 which however have no effect upon him. A calm, bright, beautiful 
 morning succeeds to the horrors of the night. Satan again pre- 
 sents himself to our blessed Lord, and, from noticing the storm 
 of the preceding night as pointed chieriy at him, takes occasion 
 once more to insult him with asi account of the suff<irings which 
 he was certainly to undergo. This only draws from our Lord a 
 brief rebuke. Satan, now at the height of his desperation, con- 
 fesses that he had frequently watched Jesus from his birth, pur- 
 posely to discover if he was the Messiah ; and, collecting from 
 what passed at the river Jordan that he most probably was so, 
 he had from that lime more assiduously followed him, in liapA 
 of gaining some advantage over him, which would most effectu- 
 ally prove that he was hot really that Divine Person destined to 
 be his * fatal enemy„' In this he acknowledges that he has hitherto 
 completely failed : but still determines to make one more trial 
 of him. Accordingly he conveys him to the temple at Jerusalem, 
 and, placing him on a pointed eminence, requires him to prove 
 his divinity either by standing there, oi casting himself down with 
 safety. Our Lord reproves the Tempter, and at the same time 
 manifests his own divinity by standing on this dangerous point. 
 Satan, amazed and terrified, instantly falls; and repairs to his 
 (nferuul compeers to relate the bad success of his enterprise. 
 
BOOK IV. 339 
 
 Angels in the mean time convey our blessed Lord to a beautifii 
 vaiiey, ana, wniie they minister to hini a repast of celestial food^ 
 celebrate his victory in a triumphant hymn. 
 
 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, 5 
 So little here, nay lost ; but Eve was Eve, 
 This far his over-match, who, self-deceived 
 And rash, before-hand had no better weigh'd 
 The strength he was to cope with, or his own: 
 But as a man who had been matchless held 10 
 
 In cunning, over-reach'd where least he thought. 
 To salve his credit, and for every 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, 15 
 
 About the wine-press where sweet must is pour'd. 
 Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound ; 
 Or surging waves against a solid rock. 
 Though all to shivers dash'd, th' assault renew. 
 Vain battery, and in froth or bubbles end ; 20 
 
 So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse 
 Met ever, and to shameful silence brought. 
 Yet gives not o'er though desp'rate of success, 
 And his vain importunity pursues. 
 He brought our Saviour to the western side 25 
 
 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 t?ie fruits of th' earth and seats of nxen 
 From <;old Septentrion blasts, thence in the midst 31 
 Divided by a river, of whose banks 
 On each .^de an imperial city stood. 
 With towers and temples proudly elevate 
 On seven small hills, with palaces adorn'd 35 
 
 Porches and theatres, baths, aqueducts, 
 Statues and trophies, and triumjjhal arcs. 
 Gardens and groves presented to his eyes, 
 
 15. Homer's II. xvi. 641. 
 
 27. Another plain ; Italy, which is bounded by th e Mediterranean 
 
 on the south, thp Alps o" the north, and intersected by the Tiber. 
 
S43 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Above the hig-hth of mountains intei'posed : 
 
 By what strange parallax or optic skill 40 
 
 Of vision multiply'd 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 Rome, queen of the earth 
 So far renown'd, and with the spoils enrich'd 46 
 
 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, 50 
 
 Th' imperial palace, compass huge and hig'h 
 The structure, skill of noblest architects. 
 With gilded battlements, conspicuous far, 
 TuiTets and terraces, and glitfring spires. 
 Many a fair edifice besides, more like 55 
 
 Houses of Gods, so well I have disposed 
 My aery microscope, thou may'st behold 
 Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs. 
 Carved work, the hand of famed artificers 
 In cedar, marble, ivory, or gold. CO 
 
 Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see 
 What conflux issuing forth, or entering in, 
 Pretors, proconsuls to their provinces 
 Hasting, or on return, in robes of state ; 
 Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power, 65 
 
 Legions and cohorte, turms of horse and wings ; 
 Or embassies from regions far remote 
 In vaiious habits on the Appian road, 
 Or on th' Emilian, some from farthest south, 
 Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, 70 
 Meroe, Nilotic isle, and, more to west, 
 The realm of Bocchus to the Blackmoor sea ; 
 From th' Asian kings, and Parthian among these. 
 From India and the golden Chersonese, 
 And utmost Indian isle, Taprobane, 75 
 
 Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreath'd ; 
 From Gallia, Gades, and the British west, 
 
 66. Turms, from the Latin turma, a troop. 
 
 66. T'he Appian road led towards the nc-th ; the Emtlian 
 
 toward? the south. 
 
 69. Farthest south Syene; that is, on the extreme southero 
 
 limit of the Roman Empire. 
 
BOOK IV. 341 
 
 Germans and Scythians, and Sarmatians northi 
 
 Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool. 
 
 All nations now to Rome obedience pay, 80 
 
 To Rome's ^reat Emperor, whose wide domain 
 
 In ample territory, wealth and power. 
 
 Civility of manners, arts, and arras, 
 
 And long- renown, thou justly may'st prefer 
 
 Before the Parthian ; these two thrones except, 85 
 
 The rest are barb'rous, and scarce worth the sight. 
 
 Shared among- petty kings too far removed ; 
 
 These having- shewn thee, 1 have shewn thee all 
 
 The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory. 
 
 This emperor hath no son, and now is old, 90 
 
 Old and lascivious, and from Rome retired 
 
 To Capreae, an island small but strong- 
 
 On the Campanian shore, with purpose there 
 
 His horrid lusts in private to enjoy. 
 
 Committing- to a wicked favourite 95 
 
 All public cares, and yet of him suspicious 
 
 Hated of all, and hating- ; with what ease. 
 
 In iued with regal virtues as thou art. 
 
 Appearing-, and beginning- noble deeds, 
 
 Might'st thou expel this monster from his throne, 
 
 Now made a stye, and in his place ascending 101 
 
 A victor people free from servile yoke? 
 
 And with my help thou may'st ; to me the power 
 
 Is given, and by that right I give it thee. 
 
 Aim therefore at no less than all the world, 105 
 
 Aim at the highest, without the highest attain'd 
 
 Will be for thee no sitting, or not long, 
 
 On David's throne, be prophesy'd what will. 
 
 To whom the Son of God unmoved reply 'd : 
 Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show 110 
 
 Of hixury, though call'd magnificence. 
 More than of arms before, allure mine eye. 
 Much less my mind ; though thou should'st add to tell 
 Their sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts. 
 On citron tables or Atlantic stone, 115 
 
 90. Such is tlie account vvliioh history has left of the Emperor 
 TihtTius. On liis retirenu^.iit to tlie island Capreae, he committed 
 the uovernnieiit to Srj:iiius, liis infiinioiis favourite. 
 
 Ho. Cilrv7i wood was very mticii admired by the Romans, and 
 tables made of it were a great article of luxury among them, as 
 VJere albu cups made of crystal and myrrhine.^ 
 
S42 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 (For I have also heard, perhaps have read) 
 
 Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Fah^rne, 
 
 Chios, and Crete, and how they quaff in gold. 
 
 Crystal and myrrh ine cups imboss'd with gems 
 
 And studs of pearl ; to me should'st tell who thirst 1 
 
 And hunger still : then embassies thou shew'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 125 
 
 Of th' emperor, how easily subdued, 
 
 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 ; 130 
 
 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 temperate, conquer'd well, 
 
 But govern ill the nations under yoke, 135 
 
 Peeling their provinces, exhausted all 
 
 By lust and rapine ; first ambitious grown 
 
 Of triumph, that insulting vanity ; 
 
 Then cruel, by their sports to blood inured 
 
 Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts exposed, 140 
 
 Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, 
 
 And from the daily scene effeminate. 
 
 What wise and valiant man would seek to free 
 
 These thus degenerate, by themselves enslaved, 
 
 Or could of inward slaves make outward free 1 145 
 
 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 pieces dash 
 
 All monarchies besides thro'ighout the world, 150 
 
 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 reply'd : 
 I see all offers made by me how slight 135 
 
 Thou valuest, because offer'd, and reject'st : 
 
 130. Tacitus Ann. Ti. 6. 
 146. Matt. xiii. 32. and "Dan. iv. 11. Luke i. 83. 
 
BOOK IV. 343 
 
 Nothing will please thee, diiSciilt aird nice^ 
 
 Or nothing' more than still to contradict: 
 
 On th' other side know also thou, that I 
 
 On what I oifer set as high esteem, IGC 
 
 lSi.iV what I part with mean to give for nought; 
 
 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, 165 
 
 On this condition, if thou wilt 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 1 
 
 Whom thus our Saviour answer'd with disdain : 
 I never liked thy talk, thy offers less, 171 
 
 Now both abhor, since thou hast dared to utter 
 Th' abominable terms, impious condition ; 
 But 1 endure the time, till which expired. 
 Thou hast permission on me. It is written 175 
 
 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 accursed, now more accursed 
 For this attempt bolder than that on Eve, 180 
 
 And more blasphemous I which expect to rue. 
 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 kings, 185 
 God over all supreme ? If given to thee, 
 By thee how fairly is the giver now 
 Repaid ? But gratitude in thee is lost 
 Long since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame. 
 As offer them to me the Son of God, 190 
 
 To me my own, on such abhorred pact, 
 That I fall down and worship thee as God ? 
 Get thee behind me ; plain thou now appear'st 
 That evil one, Satan for ever damn'd. 
 
 To whom the Fiend with fear abash'd reply'd : 195 
 Be not so sore offended, Son of God, 
 Though sons of God both angels are and men, 
 
 191. Pactf a word used to sig-nify the agreement made bv 
 sorcerers with the devil. 7 
 
344 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 If I, to try whether in hig-her sort 
 
 Than these thou bear'st that title, have proposed 
 
 What both from men and angels I receive, 200 
 
 Tetrarchs of tire, air, iiood, and on the earth 
 
 Nations beside from all the quarter'd winds, 
 
 God of this world in\oked and world beneath; 
 
 Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold 
 
 To me so fatal, me it most concerns. 205 
 
 The trial hath indamaged thee no way, 
 
 Rather more honour left and more esteem ; 
 
 Me nought advantaged, missing what I aim'd. 
 
 Therefore let pass, as they are transitory. 
 
 The kingdoms of this world ; 1 shall no more 210 
 
 Advise thee ; gain them as thou canst, or not. 
 
 And thou thyself seemi'st otherwise inclined 
 
 Than to a worldly crown, addicted more 
 
 To contemplation and profound dispute ; 
 
 As by that early action may be judged, 215 
 
 When slipping from thy mother's eye thou went'st 
 
 Alone into the temple ; there wast found 
 
 AmoTig the gravest Rabbies disjjutant 
 
 On points and questions fitting Moses* chair. 
 
 Teaching, not taught fi^the childhood shews the 
 
 man. 
 As morning shews the day> Be famous then 221 
 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, 225 
 
 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 mean'st; 230 
 
 Without their learning how wilt thou with them. 
 Or they with thee, hold conversation meet? 
 How wilt thou reason witVi them, how refute 
 Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes ? 
 Error by his own arms is best evinced. 233 
 
 Look once more ere we leave this specular mount 
 Westward, much nearer by south-west, behold 
 
 Matt. xxiJi. 2. as 6. Par. Lost, xil, 588. 
 
BOOK IV. 345 
 
 t Where on the JEgaan shore a city stands 
 NBuilt nobly, pure the air, and light the soil, 
 Athens the eye of Greece, mother of arts 240 
 
 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 245 
 
 Trills her thick- warbled notes the summer long ; 
 There flow'ry 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 251 
 
 Great Alexander to subdue the world, 
 Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next : 
 There shalt thou hear and learn the secret power 
 Of harmony in tones and numbers hit 255 
 
 By voice or hand, and various-measured verse, 
 iEolian charms and Dorian lyric odes. 
 And his who gave them breath, but higher sung, 
 Blind Melesigenes thence Homer call'd. 
 Whose poem Phoebus challenged for his own! 260 
 Thence what the lofty grave tragedians taugh* 
 In Chorus or Iambic, teachers best 
 Of moral prudence, with delight received 
 In brief sententious precepts, while they treat 
 Of Fate, and Chance, and change in human life ; 205 
 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 fulmined over Greece, 2T0 
 To Macedon and Artaxerxes' throne : 
 To sage Philosophy next lend thine ear. 
 From Heav'n descended to the low roof d house 
 Of Socrates ; see there his tenement. 
 Whom well inspired the oracle pronounced 275 
 
 238. The following passage has been justly pointed out as one 
 of the most beautiful in the poem. It is'pure, clear, and distinct; 
 like a prospect seen through a Grecian atmosphere. 
 
 253. The Lyceum was the school of Aristotle, as the Academy 
 was that of Plato ; and the Stoa, which was adorned with manv 
 paintings, was the school of Zeno. 
 Q2 
 
346 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Wisest of men ; from whose mouth issued foi*tli 
 Mellifluous streams that water'd all the schools 
 Of Academics old and new, with those 
 Sii'named Peripatetics, and the sect 
 P'ipicurean, and the Stoic severe ; 2.SC 
 
 These here revolve, or, as thou lik'st, at home, 
 Till time mature thee to a kin^idom's weight; 
 These rules will render thee a king complete 
 Within thyself, much more with empire join'd.) 
 
 To whom our Saviour sagely thus reply'd : '^ 28i 
 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 ; 290 
 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 ; 295 
 A third sort doubted all things, though plain sense ; 
 Others in virtue placed felicity. 
 But virtue join'd with riches and long life; 
 In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease ; 
 The Stoic last in philosophic pride, 300 
 
 By him call'd Virtue; and his virtuous man, 
 Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing. 
 Equal to Cod, oft shames not to prefer, 
 As fearing God nor man, contemning all 304 
 
 Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life, 
 Which, when he lists, he leaves, or boasts he can; 
 For all his tedious talk is but vain boast, 
 Or subtle shifts conviction to evade. 
 Alas, what can they teach, and not mislead. 
 Ignorant of themselves, of God much more, 310 
 
 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 
 
 293. The first ; Socrates, who declared he could know nothlog 
 bi t liirmelf.— 7'Ae next. ,• Plato, whose niysUcisiii and allesrories 
 are here alluded to. — The third ; the scholars jf Pyrrho, whose 
 philosophy was alto^-eiher sceptical. The others who are men- 
 tioned ere the Academics and the F4»icureans. 
 
BOOK IV. 3^17 
 
 All glory arrogate, to God give none, 316 
 
 Rather accuse him under usual names. 
 
 Fortune and Fate, as one regardless quite 
 
 Of mortal thing^s. Who therefore seeks in these 
 
 True wisdom, finds her not, or by delusion 
 
 Far worse, her false resemblance only meets, 320 
 
 An empty cloud. However, many books, 
 
 Wise men have sail, 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 elsewhere seek?) 
 
 Uncertain and unsettled still remains, 
 
 Deep versed in books and shallow in himself. 
 
 Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys, 
 
 And trifies for choice matters, worth a spunge ; 
 
 As children gathering pebbles on the shore. 330 
 
 Or if I would delight my private hours 
 
 With music or with poems, where so soon 
 
 As in our native language can I find 
 
 That solace f all our law and story strew'd 
 
 With hymns, our psalms with artful terms inscribed, 
 
 Our Hebrew songs and harps in Babylon, 336 
 
 That pleased so well our victors' ear, declare 
 
 That rather Greece from us these arts derived ; 
 
 111 imitated, while they loudest sing 
 
 Tne vices of their deities, and their own, 340 
 
 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, 345 
 
 Will far be found unworth3' to compare 
 
 With Sion's songs, to all true taste excelling, 
 
 Where God is praised aright, and godlike men. 
 
 The holiest of holies, and his saints ; 
 
 Such are from God inspired, not such from thee, 350 
 
 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 ; 3^5 
 
 But herein to our Propbets far beneath 
 
 322. Eccles. xji. 12. 336. Ps. CKXXVII. 
 
318 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 As men divinely taug-ht, and better teachlog 
 
 The solid rules of civil g'overnment 
 
 In their majestic unaflfected style 
 
 Than all the oratory of Greece and Rome. 8S0 
 
 In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt. 
 
 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 365 
 
 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, 
 King'dom nor empire pleases thee, nor aught 
 By me proposed in life contemplative, 370 
 
 Or active, tended on by glory, or by 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 foretell thee, soon thou shalt have cause 375 
 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, 380 
 
 When prophecies of thee are best fulfill'd. 
 Nov- contrary, if I read aught in Heav'n, 
 Or Heav'n write aught of Fate, by what the stars 
 Voluminous, or single characters. 
 In their conjunction met, give me to spell, 385 
 
 Sorrows, and labours, opposition, hate ' 
 
 Attend 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; 390 
 
 Nor when, eternal sure, as without end. 
 Without beginning ; for no date prefix'd 
 Directs me in the stan-y rubric set. 
 
 So saying he took (for still he knew his poweY 
 Not yet expired) and to the wilderness 385 
 
 S82. The astrolog'er Cardan, with a mixture of madness and 
 Inoiety, pretended to cast the nativity of Christ, and to discover 
 what must have been his lot from the situation of the planets at 
 hi« birth. 
 
BOOK IV. 3-19 
 
 Brought back the Son of God, and left him there. 
 Feigning' to disappear. Darkness now rose. 
 As day-light sunk, and brought in louring- Night, 
 Her shadowy offspring, unsubstantial both. 
 Privation mere of light and absent day. 400 
 
 Our Saviour meek and wi.h untroubled mind 
 After his aery jaunt, though hurried sore. 
 Hungry and cold, betook him to his rest. 
 Wherever, under some concourse of shades, [shield 
 Whose branching arms thick intertwined might 
 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 411 
 
 Fierce rain with lightning mix'd, water with fire 
 In ruin reconciled : nor slept the winds 
 Within their stony caves, but rush'd abroad 
 From the four hinges of the avo; Id, and fell 415 
 
 On the vex'd wilderness, whose tallest pines. 
 Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks 
 Bow'd their stiff necks, loaded v/ith stormy blasts ; 
 Or torn up sheer : ill wast thou shrouded then, 
 O patient Son of God, yet only stood'st 420 
 
 Unshaken! Nor yet stay'd the terror there. 
 Infernal ghosts, and hellish furies, round [shriek'd, 
 Environ'd thee, some howl'd, some yell'd, some 
 Some bent at thee their fiery darts, while thou 
 Satst unappall'd in calm and sinless peace. 425 
 
 Thus pass'd the night so foul, till morning- fair 
 Came forth with pilgrim steps in amioe grey. 
 Who with her radiant finger still'd the roar 
 Of thunder, chased the clouds, and laid the winds, 
 ■ And grisly spectres, which the Fiend had raised 430 
 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 dropping tree ; the birds. 
 Who all things now behold more fresh and green, 435 
 After a night of storm so ruinovis, 
 
 415. Hinges; a trarvslation of the Latin Cardo, from which we 
 derive the word cardinal, and hence cardinal points. 
 
.■^^x 
 
 350 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 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, 440 
 
 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 resolved, 
 
 Desp'rate of better course, to vent his rage, 445 
 
 And 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 : 450 
 
 Fair morning yet betides thee, Son of God, 
 After a dismal night ; I heard the wrack 
 As earth and sky would mingle ; but myself 
 Was distant ; and these flaws, tho' mortals fear them 
 As dangerous to the pillar'd frame of Heav'n, 455 
 Or to the Earth's dark basis underneath. 
 Are to the main as inconsiderable 
 And harmless, if not wholesorae, as a sneeze 
 To man's less universe, and soon are gone ; 
 Yet as being oft times noxious where they light 460 
 On man, beast, plant, wasteful and tTirbulent, 
 Like turbulencies in th' aflfairs 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 ; 465 
 
 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 destined seat, but wilt prolong 
 All to the push of Fate, pursue thy way 470 
 
 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, 475 
 Not when it must, but'when it may be best. 
 If thou observe not this, be sure to find 
 What I foretold thee, many a hard assay 
 Of dangers, and adversities, and pains. 
 
BOOK IV. S53 
 
 Ere thou of Israel's sceptre get fast hold ; 4F0 
 
 Whereof this ominous night that closed thee i"ound. 
 So many terrors, voices, prodigies, 
 May warn thee, as a sure fore-going sign. 
 
 So talk'd he, while the Son of God went on 
 And stay'd not, but in brief him answer'd thus : 485 
 
 Me worse than v/et thou find'st not ; other harm 
 Those terrors which thou speak'st of did me none ; 
 1 never fear'd they could, though noising loud 
 And threat'ning nigh ; what they can do as signs 
 Betokening ji ill boding, I contemn 490 
 
 As false portents, not sent from God, but thee ; 
 Who knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, 
 Obtrud'st thy oiTer'd aid, that I accepting 
 At least might seem to hold all power of thee, 
 Ambitious Spirit, and wouldst be thought my God, 495 
 And storm 'st refused, thinking to teri'ify 
 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 ; 500 
 
 For Son of God to me is yet in doubt : 
 Of the Messiah, I had heard foretold 
 By all the prophets ; of thy birth at length 
 Announced by Gabriel with the first 1 knew, 
 And of th' angelic song in Bethlehem field 505 
 
 On thy birth-night, that sung thee Saviour born. 
 From that time seldom have I ceased 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 510 
 
 Flock to the Baptist, I among the rest. 
 Though not to be baptized, by voice from Heav'n 
 Heard thee pronounced the Son of God beloved. 
 Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view 
 And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn 515 
 
 In what degree or meaning thou art call'd 
 The Son of God, which bears no single sense ; 
 
 601. I have before observed that there does not seem sufficient 
 reason for supposing' Christ's nature and character unknown to 
 Satan. Milton, by layinj^ so much stress as he lias done on this 
 idea, rendered it necessary for liim to pursue an argument, wliich 
 contributes nothing ejilier to the interest or tlie sublimity of the 
 sulyect. 
 
 2A 
 
852 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 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 5*20 
 
 In some respect far higher so declared. 
 
 Therefore I watch'd thy footsteps fi-om 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. 525 
 
 Good reason then, if 1 before-hand seek 
 
 To understand my adversary, who 
 
 And what he is ; his wisdom, power, intent; 
 
 By parle or composition, truce or leagTie, 
 
 To win him, or win from him what I can. 530 
 
 And 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, 635 
 
 Not more ; for honours, riches, kingdoms, glory 
 
 Have been before contenni'd, and may again : 
 
 Therefore to know wiiat -^nore thou art than man. 
 
 Worth naming Son of God by voice from Heav'n, . 
 
 Another method I must now begin. .540 
 
 So saying he caught him up, and without wing 
 Of hippogrif 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, 040 
 
 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 Sou of God, and added thus in scorn : 550 
 
 There stand, if thou wilt stand ; to stand upright 
 Will ask thee skill. I to thy Father's house 
 Have brought thee, and highest placed, highe st is Vest: 
 Now shew thy progeny ; if not to stand. 
 Cast thyself down ; safely, if Son of God : 555 
 
 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, 5C0 
 
D-OOK IV. 35:^ 
 
 Tempt not the Lord thy God. He said and stood ; 
 
 But Satan smitten with amazement fell : 
 
 As when Earth's son Antaeus (to compare 
 
 Small things with greatest; in Irassa strove 
 
 With Jove's Aicides, and oft foil'd still rose, 265 
 
 Receiving- from his mother Earth new strength, 
 
 Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple join'd, 
 
 Throttled at length in th' air, expired and fell ; 
 
 »So after many a foil the Tempter proud, 
 
 Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride 570 
 
 Fell whence he stood to see his victor fall 
 
 And as that Theban monster that proposed 
 
 Her riddle, and him who solved it not devour'd. 
 
 That once found out and solved, for grief and spite 
 
 Cast herself headlong from th' Ismenian steep ; 755 
 
 So struck with dread and anguish fell the Fiend, 
 
 And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought 
 
 Joyless triumphals of his hoped success. 
 
 Ruin, and desperation, and dismay. 
 
 Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. 580 
 
 So Satan fell ; and straight a fiery globe 
 
 Of angels on full sail of wing flew nigh, 
 
 Who on their plumy vans received him soft 
 
 From his uneasy station, and up bore 
 
 As on a floating couch through the blithe air; 585 
 
 Then in a fiow'ry valley set him down 
 
 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, 590 
 
 That soon refresh'd him wearied, and repair'd 
 
 What hunger, if aught hunger had impair'd, 
 
 Or thirst: and, as he fed, angelic quires 
 
 Sung heav'nly anthems of his victory 
 
 Over temptation, and the Tempter proud : 595 
 
 True image of the Father, whether throned 
 In the bosom of bliss, and light of li^ht 
 Conceiving, or remote from Heav'n inshriaed 
 
 651. This is the j»Tand catastrophe of the poem; the discovery 
 of Christ's divinity and the discomfiture of Satan. 
 
 563. The ginnt Antaeus dwelt in Irassa, a place in Libya, and 
 vas killed by Hercules in wrest'.in*. 
 
 572. The Sphinx wUa threw herself into the sea when CEdipua 
 solved her enigma 581. Matt.- iv, U. 
 
S54 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 In fleshly tabernacle, and human form, 
 
 Wand'ring- the wilderness, v/hatever place, 601) 
 
 Habit, or state, or motion still expressing 
 
 The Son of God, with God-like force endued 
 
 Against th' attempter of thy Father's throne. 
 
 And thief of Paradise ; him long of old 
 
 Thou didst debel, and down from Heaven cast 605 
 
 With all his army, now thou hast avenged 
 
 Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing 
 
 Temptation, hast regain'd lost Paradise, 
 
 And frustrated the conquest fraudulent : 
 
 He never more henceforth will dare set foot 610 
 
 In Paradise to tempt ! his snares are bi'oke : 
 
 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 615 
 
 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 Heav'n, trod down 
 
 Under his feet: for proof, ere this thou feel'st 621 
 
 Thy wound, yet not thy last and deadliest wound, 
 
 By this repulse received, and hold'st in Hell 
 
 No triumph ; in all her g-ates Abaddon rues 
 
 Thy bold attempt ; hereafter learn with awe 625 
 
 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, 630 
 
 Lest he command them down into tt e 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 mankimL 635 
 
 Thus they the Son of God our Saviour meek 
 Sung Victor, and from heav'nly feast refresh'd 
 Brought on his way with joy ; he unobserved 
 Home to his mother's house private return'd. 
 
 dOo. Debel ; from the Latin debellare^ to overcome in battle. 
 6ifl. Luke X. 18. 624. Rev ix. 11. 
 
^- * , 
 
 SLlvtictLaels Mount. STnip wreck of L^^cidas 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES: 
 
 A DRAMATIC POEM. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 San;.sovi made captive, blind, and now in tiie prison of Ga/a, 
 inere to labour as in a common woriihouse, on a festival day, in 
 the general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open 
 air, To a phice nigh, somewhat retired, there to sit awiii'e and 
 bemoan his condition. Wiiere he happens at length to be visited 
 by certain friends and equals of his tribe, wliich nrake tlie Cliorus, 
 who seeJ; to comfort him what they can ; tlien by his old father, 
 .Maaoah, who endeavours 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 thanksg-iving for their 
 deliverance from the hands of Samson, which yet moi^e troubles 
 him. Manoah then departs to prosecute his endeavour with the 
 Philistine lords for Samson's redemption ; who in the meanwhile 
 is visited by other persons : and lastly by a public officer to 
 require his comings to the feast before the lords and people, to 
 play or shew his streng;th in their presence; he at first refuses, 
 dismissing- the public officer with absolute denial to come ; at 
 len-ith, persuaded inwardly that this was from God, he yields to 
 go along- witn him, who came now the second time with ^reat 
 threareninirs to fetch him : tht- Chorus yet remaining on the place, 
 Manoah returns full of joyful hope, to procure ere long his son'd 
 deliverance, in the n)idst of whicli discourse an Hebrew comes in 
 haste, confusedly at first, and afterwards more distinctly relating 
 the catastrophe, what Samson had done to the Philistines, and by 
 accident to himself; wherewith the tragedy ends. 
 
 THE PERSONS. 
 
 Samso7i, j HarapJia of Gath. 
 
 Manoah, the father of 1 E'ublic Officer. 
 
 Samson. ] Messenger. 
 
 Daiila, his wife. | Chorus of Danitef. 
 
 The Scene, before the Prison in Gaza, 
 
 Samson. Attendant leading him, 
 A liiTTLE onward lend thy guiding- Hand 
 \To these dark steps, a little further on ; 
 
 r 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, 6 
 
 %: 
 
 Samson Agonistes ; Agonistes is a Greek word signifying Actor. 
 I'he introduction is in imitation of the Q2dip\is Coloneus of So- 
 phocles. For the subject of the poem, and most of the scriptural 
 allusions it contains, reference may be made in general to the Book 
 of Judgt'5. 
 
356 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Daily iu the common prisop else enjoiii'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 Heav'n fresh blowing-, pure and sweet, 
 
 With day-spring- born ; here leave me to respire. 11 
 
 This day a solemn feast the people hold 
 
 To Dagon their sea-idol, and forbid 
 
 Laborious v/orks ; unwillingly this rest 
 
 Their superstition yields me ; lience with leave 15 
 
 Retiring from the popular noise, 1 seek 
 
 This imfreqTiented place to find some ease. 
 
 Ease to the body some, none to the mind 
 
 From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm 
 
 Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, 20 
 
 But rusVi upon me thronging, and present 
 
 Times past, what once I was, and what am now. 
 
 O wherefore was my birth from Heav'n foretold 
 
 Twice by an angel, who at last in sight 
 
 Of both my parents all in flames ascended 25 
 
 From off the altar, where an offering- burn'd, 
 
 As in a fiery column charioting- 
 
 His god-like presence, and from some great act 
 
 Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race ? 
 
 Why was my breeding- order'd and prescribed 30 
 
 As of a person separate to God, 
 
 Pesign'd for great exploits : if I must die 
 
 Betray'd, captived, and both my eyes put out. 
 
 Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze ; 
 
 To grind in brazen fetters under task 35 
 
 With this Heav'n-g-ifted strength 1 glorious strength 
 
 Put to the labour of a beast, debased 
 
 Lower than bond-slave ! Promise was that I 
 
 Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver ; 
 
 Ask for this great deliverer nov/, and find him 40 
 
 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, 45 
 
 Whom have I to complain of but myself? 
 
 Who this high gift of strength committed to me, 
 
 In what part lodged, how easily bereft me, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 357 
 
 Under the seal of silence could not keep 
 
 But weakly to a woman must reveal it, 50 
 
 O'ercome with importunity and tears. 
 
 O impotence of mind, in body strong ! 
 
 But what is streng-th withoiit a double share 
 
 Of wisdom, vast, unwieldy, burdensome. 
 
 Proudly secure, yet liable to fall 55 
 
 By weakest subtleties, not made to rule. 
 
 But to subserve where wisdom bears command ? 
 
 God, when he gave me strength, to shew withal 
 
 How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair. 
 
 But peace, I must not quarrel with the will GC 
 
 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 05 
 
 Would ask a life to wail, but chief of all, 
 
 O loss of sight, of thee I most complain I 
 
 Blind among enemies, O worse than chains. 
 
 Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age ! 
 
 Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, 70 
 
 And all her various objects of delight 
 
 Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eased 
 
 Inferior to the vilest now become 
 
 Of man or woi-m ; the vilest here excel me. 
 
 They creep, yet see, I dark in light exposed 75 
 
 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, 80 
 
 Irrecoverably dark, total. eclipse 
 Without all hope of day j/ 
 O first-created beam, and thou great Word, 
 Let there be light, and light was over all ; 
 Why am I thus bereaved thy prime decree ? 85 
 
 [The sun to me is dark 
 
 yind silent as the moon, . 
 
 ^hen she deserts the night) 
 
 87. Shakspeare, second part of Henry VI. Act 1. Sc. 8. — The 
 tilenl of the night, which is a classical expression, means, ac- 
 cording to Warburton, an interlunar night. 
 
358 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. 
 
 Since light so necessary is to life, 90 
 
 And almost life itself, if it be true 
 
 I'hat light is in the soul. 
 
 She all in every part ; why was the si^ht 
 
 To such a tender ball as th' eve confined, 
 
 So obvious and so easy to be quench'd I 93 
 
 And not, as feeling, through all parts diffused, 
 
 That she might look at will through every pore? 
 
 Then had I not been thus exiled from light, 
 
 As in the land of darkness yet in light, 
 
 To live a life half dead, a living- death, 100 
 
 And bury'd : but O yet more miserable I 
 
 Myself my sepulchre, a moving* grave, 
 
 Bury'd, yet not exempt 
 
 By privileg'e of death and burial 
 
 Fi'om worst of other evils, pains and wrongs, 105 
 
 But made hereby obnoxious more 
 
 To all the miseries of life. 
 
 Life in captivity 
 
 Among inhuman foes. 
 
 But who are these 1 for with joint pace I hear 110 
 
 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 a while, 115 
 
 Let us not break in upon him ; 
 O change beyond report, thought, or belief 1 
 See how he lies at random, carelessly diffused, 
 With languish 'd head unpropt. 
 
 As one past hope abandon'd, 120 
 
 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, 1*25 
 
 Irresistible Samson ? whom unarm'd [stand ; 
 
 No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast, could with- 
 Who tore the lion, as the lion tears the kid, 
 Ran on embattled armies clad in iron, 
 
 118. Diffused, a classical expression very frequently used la 
 describe the languid pcsture of a weary persou. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 359 
 
 And, weaponless himself, 13q 
 
 Wade arms ridiculous, useless the forger> 
 Of brazen shield and spear, the hamraer'd cuirass, 
 Chalybean temper'd steel, and frock of mail 
 Adamantean proof; 
 
 But safest he who stood aloof, 13-; 
 
 When insupportably his foot advanced, 
 In scorn of their proud arms and warlike tools, 
 Spurn'd them to death by troops. The bold Ascalonite, 
 Fled from his lion ramp, old warriors turn'd 
 Tiieir plated backs under his heel; 140 
 
 Or groveling- soil'd their crested helmets in the dust. 
 Then with what trivial v/eapon came to hand. 
 The jaw of a dead ass, his sword of bone, 
 A thousand fore-skins fell, the flower of Palestine, 
 In Raniath-lechi, famous to this day. 145 
 
 Then by main force puU'd up, and on his shoulders 
 The g-ates of Azza, post, and massy bar, [bore 
 
 Up to the hill by Hebron, seat ol g-iants old. 
 No journey of a sabbath-day; and loaded so. 
 Like whom the Gentiles fei^n to bear up Heaven. 
 Which shall I first bewail, 151 
 
 Thy bondage or lost sight. 
 Prison within prison 
 Inseparably dark ? 
 
 Thou art become (O worst imprisonment !) 155 
 
 The dungeon of thyself; thy soul [plain) 
 
 (Which men enjoying sight oft withaut cause com- 
 Imprison'd now indeed, 
 In real darkness of the body dwells. 
 Shut up from outward lig-ht IfiO 
 
 To incorporate with gloomy ni^ht ; 
 For inward light, alas ! 
 Puts forth no visual beam. 
 O mirror of our fickle state, 
 
 Since man on earth unparallel'd ! 105 
 
 The rarer thy example stands, 
 By how much from the top of wondrous glory, 
 
 133. The Chalybei? were celebrated for their skill in 
 
 tempering' steel. 
 
 I3G. Spenser's Faery ttiieene, B. 1. Can. 7. St, 11. 
 
 ^ 138. I Sam. vi. 17. 
 
 { 47 ^zza lor Gaza, to avoid the alliteration of g-ates and Gazju 
 
 148. Josh. XV. 13, M. Num. xiii. 33. 
 
 e 
 
3G0 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Strongest of mortal men, 
 
 To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou ait fallen. 
 
 For him I reckon not in high estate 170 
 
 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, I?.") 
 
 Sa77i. I hear the sounds of words ; their sense the 
 Dissolves unjointed ere it reach my ear. [air 
 
 Chor. He speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in 
 The glory late of Israel, now the grief; [might, 
 
 We come thy friends and neighbours not unknown 
 From Eshtaol and Zora's fruitful vale, 18/ 
 
 To visit or bewail thee ; or, if better. 
 Counsel or consolation we may bring, 
 Salve to thy sores ; apt words have power to swajie 
 The tumours of a troubled mind, 185 
 
 And are as balm to fester 'd wounds. 
 
 Sain. Yrur coming, friends, revives me, for 1 learn 
 Now of my own experience, not by talk, 
 How counterfeit a coin they are who friends 
 Bear in their superscription (of the most VJQ 
 
 I v/ould be understood), in prosperous days 
 They swai*m, but in adverse withdraw their head, 
 Not to be found, though sought. Ye see, O friends, 
 How many evils have inclosed me round ; 
 Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me, 
 Blindness, for had I sight, confused with shame, Vdi\ 
 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, 200 
 
 Fool! have divulged 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 1 do they not say, How well 
 Are come upon him his deserts ? yet why? 205 
 
 Immeasurable strength they might behold 
 1)1 me, of wisdom nothing more than mean ; 
 This with the other should at least have paird, 
 
 181. Eshlaol and Zora, two towns belonging- to the tribe of I>iir, 
 Josh. xix. 41. Judg. xiii. 2. 25. Josh. xv. 33. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 301 
 
 These two proportion 'd ill drove me transverse. 
 
 Chor, Tax not divine disposal ; wisest men 210 
 Have err'd, and by bad women been deceived ; 
 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 215 
 Why thou shouldst wed Philistian women rather 
 Than of thine own tribe fairer, or as fair. 
 At least of thy own nation, and as noble. 
 
 Sam. The first I saw at Timna, and she pleased 
 Me, not my parents, that I sought to wed 220 
 
 The daughter of an infidel : they knew not 
 That what I motion'd was of God; I knew 
 From intimate impulse, and therefore urged 
 The marriage on ; that by occasion hence 
 I might begin Israel's deliverance, 225 
 
 The work to which I was divinely call'd. 
 She proving false, the next I took to wdfe 
 (O that I never had ! fond wish too late( 
 Was in the vale of Sorec, Dalila, 
 That specious monster, my aecomplish'd snare. 230 
 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. 236 
 
 Chor. In seeking just occasion to provoke 
 The Philistine, thy country's enemy. 
 Thou never wast remiss, I bear thee witness: 
 Yet Israel still serves with all his sons. 240 
 
 Sam. 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 conquerors, 
 Acknowledged not, or not at all consider'd 245 
 
 Deliverance ofFer'd : I on the other side 
 Used no ambition to commend my deeds, [doer ; 
 
 The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the 
 But they persisted deaf, and would not seem 
 To count them things worth notice, till at length 250 
 Their lords the Philistines with gather'd powers 
 R 
 
»62 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Eater'd Judea seeking- me, who then 
 
 Safe to the rock of Etham was retired. 
 
 Not flyin^', but forecasting in what place 
 
 To set upon them, what advantaged best : 255 
 
 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, 2(50 
 
 Bound with two cords ; but cords to me were threads 
 
 Touch'd with the flame : on their whole host I flew 
 
 Unarm'd, and with a trivial weapon fell'd 
 
 Their choicest youth ; they only lived who fled. 
 
 Had Judah that day join'd, or one whole tribe, 265 
 
 They had by this possess'd the towers of Oath, 
 
 And lorded over them whom they now serve : 
 
 But what more oft in nations grown corrupt. 
 
 And by their vices brought to servitude, 
 
 Than to love bondage more than liberty ; 270 
 
 Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty : 
 
 And to despise, or envy, or suspect 
 
 Whom God hath of his special favour raised 
 
 As their deliverer; if he aught begin, 
 
 How frequent to desert him, and at last 275 
 
 To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds ? 
 
 Chor. Thy words to my remembrance bring 
 How Succoth and che fort of Penuel 
 Their great deliverer contemn'd, 
 The matchless Gideon in pursuit 280 
 
 Of Madian and her vanqaish'd kings : 
 And how ingrateful Ephraim 
 Had dealt with Jephtha, who by argument, 
 Not worse than by his shield and spear. 
 Defended Israel from the Ammonite, 285 
 
 Had not his prowess quell'd their pride 
 In that sore battle, when so many died 
 Without reprieve adjudged to death, 
 For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth. 
 
 Sam. Of such examples add me to the roll, 290 
 Me easily indeed mine may neglect, 
 But God's proposed deliverance not so. 
 
 Chor. Just are the ways of God, 
 And justifiable to men ; 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 363 
 
 Unless there be who think not Cod at all; 'ii).3 
 
 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 himself. 299 
 
 Yet more there be who doubt his ways not just, 
 As to his own edicts found contradicting', 
 Then give the reins to wandering- thought, 
 Regardless of his g-lory's diminution ; 
 Till by their own perplexities involved 
 They ravel more, still less resolved, 305 
 
 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 to exempt 310 
 
 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, 315 
 Nor in respect of th' enemy just cause 
 To set his people free, 
 Have prompted this heroic Nazarite, 
 Ag-ainst his vow of strictest purity, 
 To seek in marriag-e that fallacious bride, 320 
 
 Unclean, unchaste. 
 
 Down reason then, at least vain reasonings down, 
 Thoug-h reason here aver 
 That moral verdict quits her of unclean : 
 Unchaste was subsequent; her stain, not his. 325 
 
 But see, here comes thy reverend sire 
 With careful step, locks white as down. 
 Old Manoah : advise 
 Forthwith how thou ought'st to receive him. 
 
 Sa7n. Ay me, another inward grief awaked 330 
 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, 
 
 298. Ps. xiv. 1. 
 319. Samson's vow as a Nazarite, obliged him to the most per- 
 fect observance of the whole Mosaical law, which he broke by his 
 marriage with a Gentile wopiap. 
 
364 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 As I suppose, towards your once giory'd friend, 
 My son now captive, hither hath inform'd 33;i 
 
 Your younger feet, while mine cast back with age 
 Came lagging- after ; say if he be here 1 
 
 Chor. As signal now in low dejected state, 
 As erst in highest, behold him where he lies. 
 
 Ma7i. O miserable change! is this the man, 34C 
 That invincible Samson, 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, Slj 
 
 Himself an army, now unequal match 
 To save himself against a coward arm'd 
 At one spear's length ? O ever-failing trust. 
 Immortal strength ! and oh what not in man 
 Deceivable and vain ? Nay, what thing good ^'M 
 Pray'd for, but often proves our woe, our bane 1 
 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 1 355 
 
 O wherefore did God grant rac 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 band 
 As graces, draw a scorpion's tail behind ? SCO 
 
 For this did th' angel twice descend ? for tliis 
 Ordain 'd thy nurture holy as of a plant 
 Select, and sacred, glorious for a while. 
 The miracle of men ; then in an hour 
 In snared, assaulted, overcome, led bound, ZQH 
 
 Thy foes' deiision, captive, poor and blind, 
 Into a dungeon thrust, to work with slaves t 
 Alas, methinks whom God hath chosen once 
 To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty en. 
 He should not so o'erwhelm, and as a thrall 370 
 
 Subject him to so foul indignities 
 Be' it but for honour's sake of former deeds. 
 
 Sam. Appoint not heav'nly disposition, Father; 
 Notliing of all these evils hath befalln me 
 
 359. Luke xl. 12. 
 373. Appo'ml, arrajj^n or euuiinon to answer* 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. SG5 
 
 But justly ; I myself have brought them on, 375 
 
 Sole author I, sole cause : if aught seem vile, 
 As vile hath been my folly, who have profaned 
 The mystery of God giv'n me under pledgee 
 Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman, 
 A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. 380 
 
 This well I knew, nor was at all surprised. 
 But warn'd by oft experience : did not she 
 Of Timna first betray me, and reveal 
 The secret wrested from me in her highth 
 Of nuptial love profess'd, carrying it straight 383 
 To them who had corrupted her, my spies. 
 And rivals 1 In this other was there found 
 More faith, who also in her prime of love, 
 Spousal embraces, vitiated with g'old, 
 Though oflfer'd only, by the scent conceived 300 
 
 Her spurious first-born, treason against me ? 
 Thrice she assay 'd with flattering pray'rs and sighs, 
 And amorous reproaches, to win from me 
 My capital secret, in what part my strength [know ; 
 Lay stored, in what part summ'd, that she niight 
 Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport 393 
 
 Her importunity, each time perceiving- 
 How openly, and with what impudence 
 She purposed to betray me, and (which was worse 
 Than undissembled hate) with what contempt 400 
 She sought to make me traitor to myself; 
 Yet the fourth time, when must'ring all her wileSj 
 With blandish'd parleys, feminine assaults. 
 Tongue-batteries, she surceased not day nor night 
 To storm me over-watch'd, and weary'd out, 405 
 
 At times when men seek most repose and rest, 
 I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart. 
 Who with a grain of manhood well resolved 
 Might easily have shook off all her snares ; 
 But foul effeminacy held me yoked 410 
 
 Her bond-slave ; O indignity, O blot 
 To honour and religion ! servile mind 
 Rewarded well with servile punishment! 
 The base degree to Avhich I now am fallen, 
 These rags, this grinding is not yet so base 413 
 
 As was my former servitude ignoble. 
 Unmanly, ignominious, infamous. 
 
S6G SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 True slavery, and that blindness Avorse than this, 
 That saw not how degenerately I served. 419 
 
 Man. I cannot praise thy marriage choices, Son, 
 Rather approved 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 426 
 
 Their captive, and their triumph ; thou the sooner 
 Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms 
 To violate the sacred trust of silence 
 Deposited within thee ; which to have kept 
 Tacit was in thy power : true ; and thou bear'st 430 
 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 435 
 
 Great pomp and sacrihce, and praises loud 
 To Dagon, as their god who hath deliver'd 
 Thee, Samson, bound and blind into their hands. 
 Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain. 
 So Dagon shall be magnified, and God, 440 
 
 Besides whom is no god, compared with idols 
 Disglorified, blasphemed, 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, 4^13 
 Of all reproach the most with shame that ever 
 Could have befallen thee and thy father's house. 
 
 Sam. Father, I do acknowledge and confess 
 That I this honour, I this pomp, have brought 
 To Dagon, and advanced his praises high 450 
 
 Among the Heathen 'round ; to God have brought 
 Dishonour, obloquy, and oped the mouths 
 Of idolists, and atheists ; have brought scandal 
 To Israel, difSderi-ce of God, and doubt 
 In feeble hearts, propense enough before 455 
 
 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 4C0 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 367 
 
 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, 405 
 
 Will not connive, or linger, thus provoked, 
 
 But will arise and his great name assert : 
 
 Dagon must stoop, and shall ere long receive 
 
 Such a discomfit, as sliall quite despoil him 
 
 Of all these boasted trophies won on me, 470 
 
 And with confusion blank his Avorshippers. 
 
 Man. With cause this hope relieves thee, and these 
 I as a prophecy receive ; for God, [words. 
 
 Nothing- more certain, will not long defer 
 To vindicate the glory of his name 475 
 
 Against all competition, nor will long 
 Endure it doubtful whether God be Lord, 
 Or Dagon. But for thee what sliall be done '? 
 Thou must not in the meanwhile here forgot 
 Lie in this miserable loathsome plight 480 
 
 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. 486 
 
 Sam. 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, 490 
 
 Shameful garrulity. To have reveal'd 
 Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend. 
 How heinous had the fact been, how deserving 
 Contempt, and scoi-n of all, to be excluded 
 All friendship, and avoided as a blab, 495 
 
 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 500 
 
 500. The aUusion is to tlie story of Tantalus, who it is said re- 
 vealed the secrets of the gods, and was for that condemned to 
 n7!nishnient in the infernal reg-ions. 
 2 B 
 
268 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 To their abyss and horrid pains confined. 
 
 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 ; 503 
 
 Or th' execution leave to high disposal. 
 And let another hand, not thine, exact 
 Thy penal forfeit from thyself ; perhaps 
 God will reient, and quit thee all his debt ; 
 Who ever more approves, and more accepts 510 
 
 (Best pleased with humble' and filial submission) 
 Him who imploring mercy sues for life. 
 Than who self-rigorous chooses death as due : 
 Which argues over-just, and self-displeased 
 For self-offence, more than for God oifended. 515 
 
 Reject not then what ofFer'd means ; who knows 
 But God hath sent 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 pray'rs and vows renew'd ? 520 
 
 Sam. His pardon I implore ; but as for life, 
 To what end should I seek it 1 when in strength. 
 All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes 
 With youthful courage and magnanimous thoughts 
 Of birth from Heav'n foretold and high exploits, 525 
 Full of divine instinct, after some proof 
 Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond 
 The sons of Anak, famous now and blazed. 
 Fearless of danger, like a petty god, 
 I walk'd about admired of all, and dreaded 530 
 
 On hostile ground, none daring my affront. 
 Then swollen 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 535 
 Of all my strength in the lascivious lap 
 Of a deceitful 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. 540 
 
 Chor. Desire of wine and all delicious drinks, 
 
 538. Of is to be understood before allj See. 
 441. Allusion is here made to the strictness ot living^ imposed 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. S63 
 
 Whicli 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 heart of gods and men, 515 
 Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. 
 
 Sam. Wherever fountain or fresh carrent flow'd 
 Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure 
 With touch ethereal of Heav'n's fiery rod, 
 I drank, from the clear milky juice allaying 550 
 
 Thirst, and refreshed ; nor envy'd them the grape 
 Whose heads that turbulent liquor tills with fumes. 
 Chor. O madness, to think use of strongest wines 
 And strongest drinks our chief support of health. 
 When God with these forbidden made choice to rear 
 His mighty champion, strong above compare, 556 
 Whose drink was only from the liquid brook. 
 
 Sam. But what avail'd this temp'rance, not com- 
 Against another object more enticing ? [plete 
 
 What boots it at one gate to make defence, 5(J0 
 
 And at another to let in the foe. 
 Effeminately vanquish'd? by which means, 
 Now blind, dishearten'd, shamed, dishonour 'd, quell 'd, 
 To what can I be useful, wherein serve 
 My nation, and the woi-k from Heav'n imposed, 565 
 But to sit idle on the household hearth, 
 A burdenous drone ; to visitants a gaze. 
 Or pitied object, these redundant locks 
 Robustious to no purpose clust'ring down, 
 Vain monument of strength ; till length of years 570 
 And sedentary numbness craze my limbs 
 To a contemptible old age obscure ? 
 Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread, 
 Till vermin, or the draff of servile food. 
 Consume me, and oft-invocated death 575 
 
 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 ? 
 
 by the Nazarite's vow, which Samson kept in all respects, but in 
 his marriage with a strange woman. 
 
 545. Judges ix. 13. Gods here means the false gods of the hei»t 
 then cities, or the conquerors and great men, so called in honour 
 if tlielr famous deeds- 
 
 371. Craze, so used Par. Lost, xii. 210. 
 R2 
 
370 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle. 
 Inglorious, unemploy'd, with age out-worn. 580 
 
 But God, who caused a fountain at thy prayer 
 From the dry g-round to spring, thy thirst to 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 ; 585 
 And I persuade me so ; wliy else this strength 
 Miraculous yet remaining in those locks ? 
 His might continues in thee not for nought, 
 Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus. 589 
 
 Sam. All otherwise to me ray thoughts portend. 
 That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light. 
 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 595 
 
 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 htimours black, eoo 
 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. 605 
 
 Sam. O that torment should not be confined 
 To the body's wounds and sores. 
 With maladies innumerable 
 In heart, head, breast and reins ; 
 But must secret passage find 610 
 
 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, 615 
 
 581. There is a difference between this account of the fountain 
 which rose in answer to Samson's prayer, and that which is s"iven 
 in our translation of the Scripture. In the laiter it is said -the 
 water sprang- from the cleft jaw, but by most of the commentators 
 it is said, that as the word translated jaro is the proper name oi 
 a spot of ground, it should not in this pla/:e be trinslated in the 
 sense given in our version. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 371 
 
 Though void of corporal sense. 
 
 My g-riefs not only pain ine 
 As a lingering- disease, 
 
 But, finding no redress, ferment and rage ; 
 Nor less than wounds immedicable 620 
 
 Rankle, and fester, and gangrene, 
 To black mortification. 
 
 Thoughts my tormentors arm'd with deadly stings 
 Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts. 
 Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise 625 
 
 Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb 
 Or medicinal liquor can assuage, 
 Nor breath of veraal air from snowy Alp. 
 Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er 
 To death's benumbing opium as my only cure : 630 
 Thence faintings, swoonings of despair, 
 And sense of Heav'n's desertion. 
 
 I was his nursling once and choice delight, 
 His destined from the womb, 
 
 Pi'omised by heav'nly message twice descending. 635 
 Under his special eye 
 
 Abstemious I gi'ew up and thrived amain ; 
 He led me on to mightiest deeds 
 Above the nerve of mortal arm 
 
 Against th' uncircumcised, our enemies : 640 
 
 But now hath cast rae off as never known, 
 And to those cruel eneraies^ 
 Whom I by his appointment had provoked. 
 Left me all helpless with th' irreparable loss 
 Of sight, reserved alive to be repeated 645 
 
 The subject of their cruelty or scorn. 
 Nor am I 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, 650 
 
 •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, 655 
 
 All chances incident to man's frail life, 
 
 628. Alp, here used as a sreneral name for mountains : 
 see also I'ar. Lost, ii. 628. 
 
372 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Consolatories writ 
 
 With studied argument, and much persuasion sought. 
 
 Lenient of g-rief and anxious thought: 
 
 But with th' afflicted in his pangs their sound 660 
 
 Little prevails, or rather seems a tune 
 
 Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint ; 
 
 Unless he feel within 
 
 Some source of consolation from ahove. 
 
 Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, 665 
 
 And fainting spirits uphold. 
 
 God of our Fathers ! what is man, 
 That thou towards him with hand so various, 
 Or might I say contrarious, 
 
 Teraper'st thy providence through his short course, 
 Not evenly, as thou rul'st 671 
 
 Th' angelic orders and inferior creatures mute, 
 Irrational and brute 1 
 
 Nor do I name of men the common rout. 
 That, wand'ring loose about, 675 
 
 Grow up and perish as the summer fly, 
 Heads without name no more remember'd ; 
 But such as tho\i hast solemnly elected, 
 With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd 
 To some great work, thy glory, 6S0 
 
 And people's safety, which in part they effect : 
 Yet toward these thus dignified, thou oft 
 Amidst their highth of noon 
 
 Changest thy count'nance, and thy hand with no 
 Of highest favours past [regard 
 
 From thee on them, or them to thee of service. 686 
 Nor only dost degrade them, or remit 
 To life obscured, which were a fair dismission, 
 But throw'st them lower than thou didst exalt them 
 Unseemly falls in human eye, [high, 
 
 Too grievous for the trespass or omission ; 691 
 
 Oft leavest them to the hostile sword 
 Of Heathen and profane, their carcases 
 To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captived ; 
 Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, 
 And condemnation of th' ungrateful multitude. 696 
 If these they 'scape, perhaps in poverty 
 
 658. Fraught is proposed by Warburton, instead of sought. 
 661. Ecclus. xxii. 6. 
 
SAMSON AGONKSTES. 373 
 
 With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down. 
 
 Painful diseases and deform'd. 
 
 In crude old age : 700 
 
 Thoug-h not disordinate, yet causeless suffering 
 
 The punishment of dissolute days ; in fine. 
 
 Just or unjust alike seem miserable, 
 
 For oft alike both come to evil end. 
 
 So deal not with this once thy glorious champion 
 The image of thy strength, and mighty minister. 70(i 
 What do I beg-? how hast thou dealt already? 
 Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn 
 His labours, for thou canst, to peaceful end. 
 
 But who is this, what thing of sea or land ? 710 
 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 715 
 
 Of Javan or Gadire 
 
 With all her bravery an, and tackle trim. 
 Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, 
 Courted by all the winds that hold them play, 
 An amber scent of odorous perfume 720 
 
 Her harbinger, a damsel train behind 1 
 Some rich Philistian matron she may seem. 
 And now at nearer view, no other certain 
 Than DaUla thy wife. 
 
 Sa7?i. My wife, my traitress, let her not come near 
 me. 725 
 
 Chor. Yet on she moves, now stands and eyes thee 
 fix'd. 
 About to have spoke, but now, with head declined 
 Like a fair flower surcharged with dew, she v/eeps. 
 And words address'd seem into tears dissolved, 
 Wetting the borders of her silken veil : 730 
 
 But now again she makes address to speak. 
 
 Dal. With doubtful feet and wavering resolution 
 1 came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson, 
 Which to have merited, without excuse, 
 I cannot but acknowledge ; yet if tears 735 
 
 700. Crtide, premature. 
 714. This comparison is to be foniid in several of the older 
 poets, Shakspeare, Beaumont and Fletcherj &c. 
 
374 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 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 assured. But conjugal affection 
 
 Prevailing over fear, and timorous doubt, 740 
 
 Hath led me on desirous to behold 
 
 Once more thy face, and know of thy estate. 
 
 If aught in my ability may serve 
 
 To lighten what thou suffer'st, and appease 
 
 Thy mind with what amends is in my power, 745 
 
 Though late, yet in some part to recompense 
 
 My rash but more unfortunate misdeed. 
 
 Sam. Out, out, hysena ; these are thy wonted arts, 
 And arts of every woman false like thee, 
 To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray, 750 
 
 Then, as repentant, to submit, beseech, 
 Aad reconcilement move with feign'd remorse. 
 Confess, and promise wonders in her change. 
 Not truly penitent, but chief to try 
 Her husband, how far urged his patience bears, Th'S 
 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 beguiled, 
 With goodness principled not to reject 760 
 
 The penitent, but ever to forgive, 
 Are drawn to wear out miserable days. 
 Entangled with a pois'nous bosom snake, 
 If not by quick destruction soon cut off 
 As I by thee, to ages an example. 765 
 
 Dal. Yet hear me, Samson; not that I endeavour 
 To lessen or extenuate my offence. 
 But that on the other side if it be weigh'd 
 By' itself, with aggravations not surcharged, 
 Or else with just allowance counterpoised, 77(J 
 
 I may, if possible, thy pardon ifind 
 The easier towards me, or thy hati'ed less. 
 First granting, as I do, it was a Aveakness 
 In me, but incident to all our sex, 
 Curiosity, inquisitive, importune 775 
 
 Of secrets, then with like infirmity 
 
 748. Hymna ; this animal is known to imitate tlie human voice 
 so well, as to have deceived travellers with its compluints. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 375 
 
 To publish them, both coiEsmoii female faults : 
 Was it not weakness also to make known 
 For importunity, that is for nought, 
 Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety ? 780 
 To what I did, thou shew'dst me first the way. 
 But I to enemies revea-i'd, and should not : [frailty : 
 Nor should'st thou have trusted that to woman's 
 Ere I to thee, thou to thyself v/ast cruel. 
 Let weakness then with weakness come to parle 785 
 So near related, or the same of kind, 
 Thine forgive mine: that men may censure thine 
 1'he gentler, if severely thou exact not 
 More strength from me than in thyself was found. 
 And what if love, which thou interpret'st hate, 790 
 Tiie jealousy of love, powerful of sway 
 In human hearts, nor less in mind tow'rds thee, 
 Caused what I did? I saw thee mutable 
 Of fancy, fear'd lest one day thoxi would'st leave me 
 As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore 795 
 How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest : 
 No better way I saw than by importuning 
 To learn thy secrets, get into my power 
 Thy key of strength and safety : thou wilt say, 
 Wiiy then reveal'd 1 I was assured by those 800 
 
 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 peinlous enterprises, 
 While I at hom?e sat full of cares and fears, 805 
 
 Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed ; 
 J ere 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. 810 
 
 These reasons in love's law have past for good. 
 Though fond and reasonless to some perhaps : 
 And love hath oft, well meaning, wrought n\uch woe, 
 Yet always pity' or pardon hath obtain'd. 
 Be not unlike all others, not austere 815 
 
 As thou art strong, inflexible as steel. 
 If thou in strength all mortals dost exceed, 
 In uncompassionate anger do not so. 
 Satn. How cimningly the sorceress displays 
 
 f 
 
376 SAMSON AGOMSTES. 
 
 Her own transgi-essions, to upbraid me mine ! 820 
 
 That malice, not repentance, brought thee hither, 
 
 By this appears : I g-ave, thou say*3t, th' example, 
 
 I led the way : bitter reproach, but true : 
 
 I to myself was false ere thou to me : 
 
 Such pardon therefore as I give my folly, 825 
 
 Take to thy wicked deed ; which when thou seest 
 
 Impartial, self-severe, inexorable, 
 
 Thou wilt renounce thy seeking", and much rather 
 
 Confess it feign'd : weakness is thy excuse 
 
 And I believe it, weakness to resist 830 
 
 Philistian gold : if weakness may excuse, 
 
 What murderer, what traitor, parricide, 
 
 Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it? 
 
 All wickedness is weakness : that plea therefore 
 
 With God or man will gain thee no remission. 835 
 
 But love constrain'd thee ; call it furious rage 
 
 To satisfy thy lust; love seeks to' have love; 
 
 My love how could'st thou hope, who took'st the way 
 
 To raise in me inexpiable hate. 
 
 Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd 1 84-Q 
 
 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, 845 
 What sieges girt me round, ere I consented ; 
 Which might have awed the best resolved 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 magistrates 
 And princes of my country came in person, 851 
 
 Solicited, commanded, threaten'd, urged, 
 Adjured by all the bonds of civil duty 
 And of religion, press'd how just it was. 
 How honourable, how glorious, to entrap 855 
 
 A common enemy, Avho had destroy'd 
 Such numbers of our nation ; and the priest 
 Was not behind, but ever at my ear. 
 Preaching* how meritorious with the gods 
 It would be to insnare an irreligious 860 
 
 Dishonourer of Dagon : what had 1 
 To' oppose against such powerful arguments'? 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 377 
 
 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 SQ6 
 
 Of wisest men, that to the public good 
 
 Private respects must yield, Avith grave authority 
 
 Took full possession of me and prevail'd : 
 
 Virtue, as I thought, truth, duty, so enjoining, [end; 
 
 Sam. I thought where all thy circling wiles would 
 In feign'd religion, smooth hypocrisy. 
 But had thy love, still odiously pretended, 
 Been, as it ouglit, sincere, it would have taught thee 
 Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds. 875 
 1 before all the daughters of my tribe 
 And of my nation chose thee from among 
 My enemies, loved thee, as too well thou knew'st. 
 Too well, unbosom'd all my secrets to thee. 
 Not out of levity, but overpower'd 880 
 
 By thy request, who could deny thee nothing; 
 Yet now am judged an enemy. Why then 
 Did'st 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 885 
 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 counti-y sought of thee, it sought unjustly 
 Against the law of nature, law of nations, 890 
 
 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 moved thee; 
 To please thy gods thou didst it ; gods unable 8f>6 
 To' 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. 900 
 These false pretexts and vamish'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. 904 
 
 Sam* For want of words no doubt, or lack of breath ; 
 
S78 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 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 shew what recompense 91f 
 
 Tow'rds thee I intend for what I have misdoue. 
 Misguided ; only what remains past cure 
 Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist 
 To' afflict thyself in vain : though sigiit be lost, 
 Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy'd 9 5 
 
 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 will intercede, not doubting 920 
 
 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 925 
 
 With all things grateful cheer'd, and so supplied. 
 That what by me thou' hast lost thou least shalt miss. 
 
 Sam. No, no, of my condition take no care ; 
 It fits not ; thou and I long since are twain : 
 Nor think me so unwary or accursed, 930 
 
 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 ; 
 Thy fair enchanted cup, and warbling charms 
 No more on me have power, their force is nuil'd. 
 So much of adder's wisdom I have learn'd 930 
 
 To fence my ear against thy sorceries. 
 If in my flower of* youth and strength, when all men 
 Loved, honour'd, fear'd me, thou alone could'st hate 
 
 me 
 Thy husband, slight me, sell me, and forego me ; 940 
 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 would'st thou insult, 
 
 934. There is no particular allusion here, as has teen supposed, 
 to the fable of Circe and her enchanted cup ; it is but the common 
 figurative language of poetry, and involves no iiTipropriety or 
 anachronism. 9^6. Psal. Iviii. 4, 5. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 379 
 
 When I must live uxorious to thy will 945 
 
 In perfect thraldom, how ag-ain betray me, 
 
 Bearing- my words and doings to the lords 
 
 To g-loss upon, and, censuring, frown or smile 1 
 
 This jail I count the house of liberty 
 
 To thine, whose doors my feet shall never enter. 950 
 
 Dal. Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand. 
 
 Sajn, Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance 
 wake 
 My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint. 
 At distance I forg-ive thee, go with that, 
 Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works 955 
 
 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 960 
 
 To prayers than winds and seas, yet winds to seas 
 Are reconciled at length, and sea to shore : 
 Thy anger unappeasable, still rag-es, 
 Eternal tempest never to be calm'd. 
 Why do I humble thus myself, and suing 965 
 
 For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate ? 
 Bid g-o with evil omen and the brand 
 Of infamy upon my name denounced? 
 To mix with thy concernments I desist 
 Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own. 970 
 Fame if not double-faced is double-mouth'd. 
 And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds ; 
 On both his wings, one black, the other white. 
 Bears greatest names in his wild aery flight. 
 My name perhaps among the circumcised 975 
 
 In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering tribes, 
 To all posterity may stand defamed. 
 With malediction mention'd, and the blot 
 Of falsehood most unconjugal ti*aduced. 
 But in my country, where I most desire, 980 
 
 In Ecron, Gaza, Ashdod, and in Gath, 
 I shall be named among the famousest 
 Of women, sung at solemn festivals. 
 Living and dead recorded who, to save 
 
 973. Milton is here contrary to his predecessors, they making 
 fame a goiidess, he a god. 
 
H80 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Her country from a fierce destroyer, choie S85 
 
 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 inltospitable guile 
 
 Smote Sisera sleeping-, through the temples nail'd. 
 
 Nor shall I count it heinous to enjoy 991 
 
 The public marks of honour and reward 
 
 Conferr'd upon me for tJie piety 
 
 Which to my country I was judg-ed to have shewn. 
 
 At this whoever envies or repines, 995 
 
 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 concealed. 
 
 Sam, So let her go, God sent her to debase me, 
 And aggravate my folly, who committed 1000 
 
 To such a viper his most sacred trust 
 Of secrecy, my safety, and my life. [power 
 
 Chor. Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange 
 After offence returning, to regain 
 Love once possess'd, nor can be easily 1005 
 
 Repulsed, without much inward passion felt 
 And secret sting of amorous remorse. 
 
 Sam. Love quarrels oft in pleasing concord end, 
 Not wedlock treachery endangering life. 
 
 Chor, It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, 1010 
 Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit 
 That woman's love can wiii or long inherit ; 
 But what it is, hard is to say. 
 Harder to hit 
 
 (Which way soever men refer it), 1015 
 
 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, 1020 
 Successor to thy bed. 
 Nor both so loosely disally'd 
 Their nuptials, nor this last so treacherously 
 Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head. 
 
 9a5. It is supposed that the annual visitation of tombs was an 
 eastern custom. 988. Judges iv. >. 
 
 1020. Paranympli ; brideaian. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 381 
 
 Is it for that such outward ornament 1025 
 
 Was lavish'd on their sex, that inward gifts 
 
 Were left for haste unfinish'd, judgment scant. 
 
 Capacity not raised to apprehend 
 
 Or value what is best 
 
 In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong t 1030 
 
 Or was too much of self-love mix'd, 
 
 Of constancy no root infix'd. 
 
 That either they love nothing, or not long? 
 
 Whate'er it be, to wisest men and best 
 Seeming at first all heav'nly under virgin veil, 1035 
 Soft, modest, meet, demure. 
 Once join'd, the contrary she proves, a thorn 
 Intestine, far within defensive arms 
 A cleaving mischief, in his way to virtue 
 Adverse and turbulent, or by her chai ms 1040 
 
 Draws him awry inslaved 
 With dotage, and his sense depraved 
 To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends 
 What pilot so expert but needs must wBeck 
 Imbark'd with such a steers-mate at the helm 1 1045 
 
 Favour'd of Heav'n who finds 
 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, 1050 
 And all temptation can remove. 
 Most shines and most is acceptable above. 
 Therefore God's universal law 
 
 Gave to the man despotic power 1055 
 
 Over his female in due awe, 
 Nor from that right to part an hour 
 Smile she or lour: 
 So shall he least confusion draw 
 On his own life, not sway'd 
 
 By female usurpation, or dismay'd. 1060 
 
 But had we best retire, I see a storm "? 
 
 Sa7n. Fair days have oft contracted wind and rain. 
 
 Chor. But this another kind of tempest brings. 
 
 Sa77i. Be less abtruse, my riddling days are past. 
 
 Chor. Look now for no enchanting voice, nor fear 
 
 1034. There is a similar change of numbers to that in this pas* 
 faj^e of men, and the singular pronoun, in Par. Lost, ix. 1183. 
 
382 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 The bait of honied words ; a roughei tongue lOOfi 
 Draws hitherward, I know him by his stride, 
 The giant Harapha of Gath, his look 
 Haughty as is his pile, high-biiilt and proud. 
 Conies he in peace ? what wind hath blown him hither 
 I less conjecture than when first I saw 1071 
 
 The sumptuous Dalila floating- this way : 
 His habit carries peace, his brow defiance. 
 
 Sam. Or peace or not, alike to me he comes. 
 
 Chor. His fraught we soon shall know, he now ar- 
 rives. 1075 
 
 Har. I come not, Samson, to condole thy chance^ 
 As 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 108& 
 
 That Kiriathaim held ; thou know'st me now 
 If thou at all art known. Much I have heard 
 Cf thy prodigious might and feats perform'd, 
 Incredible to nae, in this displeased. 
 That I was never present on the place 1085 
 
 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. 1090 
 
 iSam. The way to know were not to see but taste. 
 
 Har. Dost thou already single me ? I thought 
 Gyves and the mill had tamed thee. O that Fortune 
 Had brought me to the field, where thou art famed 
 To have wrought such wonders with an ass's jaw ; 
 I should have forced thee soon with other arms, 1095 
 Or left thy carcase where the ass lay thrown : 
 So had the glory' of prowess been recover'd 
 To Palestine, won by a Philistine, 
 From the unforeskinn'd race, of whom thou bear'st 
 The highest name for valiant acts ; that honour 1101 
 Certain to' have won by mortal duel from thee, 
 
 1075. His frmight ; freight is proposed as a better reading. 
 
 1079. Harapha is a fictitious character, but the name was sus^- 
 gested to Milton by Arapha or Rapha being- mentioned in Scrip- 
 ture as the father of the giants of Rephaim. — See Deut. ii. 10, ' 1. 
 iii. 11. Gen, xiv. 5. 
 
 1093. Gyves, fetters or chains. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 383 
 
 r lose, prevented by thy eyes put out. [but do 
 
 Sam. Boast not of what thou would'st have done, 
 What then thou would'st, thou seest it in thy hand. 
 
 Har. To combat with a blind man I disdain, 1106 
 And thou hast need much washing- to be touch'd. 
 
 Sam. Such usage as your honourable lords 
 Afford me', assassinated and betray'd, 
 Who durst not with their whole united powers 1110 
 In fight withstand me sing'le and unarm'd, 
 Nor in the house with chamber ambushes 
 Close-banded durst attack me, no not sleeping", 
 Till they had hired a woman with their gold 
 Breaking* her marriage faith to circumvent me. 1115 
 Therefore, without feign'd shifts let be assign'd 
 Some narrow place inclosed, where sight may give 
 Or rather flight, no great advantage on me ; [thee, 
 Then put on all tliy gorgeous arms, thy helmet 
 And brigandine of bi-ass, thy broad habergeon, 1120 
 Vant-brass and greves, and gauntlet, 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, 1120 
 Thou oft shalt wish thyself at Gath to boast 
 Agaiu in safety what thou would'st have done 
 To Samson, but shalt never see Gath more. 
 
 liar. Thou durst not thus disparage glorious arms, 
 Which greatest heroes have in battle worn, 1131 
 
 Their ornament and safety, had not spells 
 And black inchantments, some magician's art, 
 Arm'd thee orcharm'd thee strong, which thou from 
 Heav'n 1134 
 
 Feign'dst at thy birth was given thee in thy hair, 
 Where sti-ength can least abide, though all thy hairs 
 Were bristles ranged like those that ridge the back 
 Of chafed wild boars, or ruffled porcupines. 
 
 Sum. I know no spells, use no forbidden arts ; 
 My trust is in the living God, who gave me 1140 
 
 1120. Brigandine, ?i. coat o^ mm\.-~Habergenn, a covering- of 
 mail for the head and shoulders, — Vant-brass or brace, covering 
 for the arms; greves, for tlie lears ; gannltet, an iron g-love. 
 1138. Shakspcare, Hamlet, Act 1, Sc. 8. 
 
 I c 
 
384 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 At my nativity this strength, diffused 
 
 No less through all my sinews, joints and bones. 
 
 Than thine, while I preserved these locks unshorn. 
 
 The pledge of my unviolated vow. 
 
 For proof hereof, if Dagon be thy god, 1145 
 
 Go to his temple, invocate his aid 
 
 With solemnest 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 1150 
 
 Avow, 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 1154 
 
 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 
 Into thy enemies' hand, permitted them 1159 
 
 To put out both thine eyes, and fetter'd send thee 
 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 lloj 
 
 Of noble warrior, so to stain his honour, 
 But by the barber's razor best subdued. 
 
 Sam. All these indignities, for such they are 
 From thine, these evils I deserve and more. 
 Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me 1170 
 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, 1175 
 
 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, intrusting 
 He will accept thee to defend his cause, 1179 
 
 A murderer, a revolter, and a robber. [me these X 
 
 Sam. Tongue-doughty Giant, how dost thou prove 
 
 Har. Is not thy nation subject to our lords 1 
 Their magistrates confess'd it, when* they took thee 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 385 
 
 As a league-breaker and deliver'd bound 
 
 Into our hands : for hadst thou not committed 1185 
 
 Notorious murder on those thirty men 
 
 At Ascalon, who never did thee harm, 
 
 Then like a robber stripp'dst them of their robes 1 
 
 The Philistines, when thou hadst broke the league. 
 
 Went up with armed pow'rs thee only seeking, 1190 
 
 To others did no violence, nor spoil. 
 
 Sam. Among the daughters 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 loi'ds 1105 
 
 Under pretence of bridal friends and guests. 
 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 solved the riddle which I had proposed. 1200 
 When I perceived all set on enmity. 
 As on my enemies, wherever chanced, 
 I used hostility and took their spoil 
 To pay my underminers in their coin. 
 My nation was subjected to your lords, 1205 
 
 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, presumed 
 Single rebellion and did hostile acts. 1210 
 
 I was no private, but a person raised 
 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 nought, 1215 
 Th' unworthier they ; whence to this day they serve. 
 ■ I was to do my part from Heav'n 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, 1220 
 
 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 enrolVi, 
 Due by the law to capital punishment 1 1225 
 
 To fight with thee no man of arms will deign. 
 
386 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Sam. Camest thou for this, vain boaster, to survey 
 To descant on my strength, and g-ive thy verdict % [me, 
 Come nearer, part not hence so slight inform'd ; 
 But take good heed my hand survey not thee. 1230 
 
 Har. O Baal-zebub ! can my ears unused 
 Hear these dishonours, and not render death ? 
 
 Smn. No man withholds thee, nothing from tLy 
 Fear 1 incurable ; hring up thy van, [hand 
 
 My heels are fetter'd, but my fist is free. 1235 
 
 Har. This insolence other kind of answer fits. 
 
 Sam. Go baffled coward, lest I run upon thee, 
 Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast. 
 And with one buffet lay thy structure low. 
 Or swing thee in the air, then dash thee down 1240 
 To th' hazard of thy brains and shattered sides. 
 
 Har. By Astaroth, ere long thou shalt lamer>t 
 These braveries in irons loaden on thee. 
 
 Chor. His Giantship is gone somewhat crest-fairn, 
 Stalking with less unconscionable strides, 1245 
 
 And lower looks, but in a sultry chafe. 
 
 Sain. I dread him not, nor all his giant brood, 
 Though fame divulge him father of five sons. 
 All of gigantic size, Goliath chief. 
 
 Chor. He will directly to the lords, I fear, 1250 
 And with malicious counsel stir them up 
 Some way or other yet further to afflict thee. 
 
 Sam. He must allege some cause, and offer'd fight 
 Will not dare mention, lest a question rise 
 Whether he durst accept th' offer or not, 1255 
 
 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. 1261 
 
 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 1265 
 
 Is bate, not help to me, it may with mine 
 Draw their own ruin who attempt the deed. 
 
 1C31. Baalzebub, Astaroin, deities of the Philiatineo. 
 1846. 1 Sam. XI li ?» Sam. xx. i. 13. 
 
SAMSON ACONISTES. 387 
 
 Ckor. Oh how comely it is, and how reviving 
 To the spirits of just men long- oppressed, 
 When God into the hands «f their deliverer 1270 
 Puts invincible might 
 
 To quell the mighty of the earth, th' oppressor. 
 The brute and boist'rous force of violent men 
 Hai-dy and industrious to support 
 
 Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue 1275 
 
 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 ; 1280 
 
 Their armories and magazines contemns, 
 Renders them useless, while 
 With winged expedition 
 Swift as the lightning glance he executes 
 His errand on the wicked, who surprised 1285 
 
 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 1290 
 
 That Tyranny or Fortune can inflict. 
 Eitlier of these is in thy lot, 
 Samson, with might endued 
 Above the sons of men ; but sight bereaved 
 May chance to number thee with those 1295 
 
 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 troxible is behind, 1300 
 
 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 1305 
 
 A public oflicer, and now at hand. 
 His message will be short and voluble. 
 
 Of. Hebrews, the prisoner Samson here I seek. 
 
 Chor. His manacles remark him, there he sits. 
 
 Of. Samson, tp thee our lords thus bid me say : 
 
388 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 ''^his day to Dag'on is a solemn feast, 1311 
 
 With sacrifices, triumph, pomp, and games; 
 Tliy streng'th they know surpassinfj human rate, 
 -And now some public proof thereof require 
 To honour this g-reat feast, and great assembly ; 1315 
 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. 
 
 Sam. Thou knov/'st I am an Hebrew, therefore 
 tell them 
 Our law forbids at their religious rites 1320 
 
 My presence, for that cause I cannot come. 
 
 Of. This answer, be assured, will not content them. 
 
 Sam. Have they not sword-players, and every sort 
 Of gyranic artists, wrestlers, riders, runners, 
 Jugglers and dancers, antics, mummers, mimics, 1325 
 But they must pick me out with shackles tired, 
 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 raoi-e, 1330 
 
 Or make a game of my calamities 1 
 Return the way thou cam'st, I will not come. 
 
 Of. Regard thyself, this will olTend them highly. 
 
 Sairi. Myself? my conscience and internal peace. 
 Can they think me so broken, so debased 1335 
 
 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 shew them feats, and play before their god, 1340 
 The worst of ail indignities, yet on me 
 Join'd with extreme contempt ? T will not come. 
 
 Of My message was imposed on me with speed. 
 Brooks no dela^- ; is this thy resolution? 1344 
 
 Sam. So take it with v/hat speed thy message needs. 
 
 Of I am sorry what this stoutness v^dll produce. 
 
 Sam. Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow 
 indeed. 
 
 Chor. Consider, Samson, matters now are strain'd 
 Up to the highth, whether to hold or break ; 
 He's gone, and who knows how he may report 1350 
 Thy words by adding fuel to the flame I 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. JjSO 
 
 Expect another inessage more imperious. 
 
 More lordly thund'ring- than thou well wilt bear. 
 
 Sam. Shall I abuse this consecrated gift 
 Of strength, again returning with my hair 1355 
 
 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 ? 1360 
 Besides, how vile, contemptible, ridiculous. 
 What act more execrably unclean, profane ? 
 
 Chor. Yet with this strength thou serv'st the Phi- 
 Idolatrous, xincircumcised, unclean. [listines, 
 
 Sam. Not in their idol-worship, but by labour 1365 
 Honest and lawful to deserve my food 
 Of those v/ho have me in their civil power. [not. 
 
 Chor. Where the heart joins not, outward acts defile 
 
 Sam. Where outward force constrains, the sentence 
 But who constrains me to the temple of Dagon, [holds ; 
 Not dragging? the Philistian lords command. 137J 
 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 1376 
 
 Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness. 
 Yet that he may dispense witb 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 
 
 Satn. Be of good courage, I begin to feel [reach. 
 Some rousing motions in me which dispose 
 To something extraordinary my thoughts. 
 I with this messenger will go along, 
 .Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonour 1385 
 
 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. 1389 
 
 Chor. In time thou hast resolved, the man returns. 
 
 1377. It is not here intended to be said that God suffers any of 
 his creatures to share in the worship of idols, but that, for sonif 
 important purpose, he may permit them to enter temples devoted 
 to the false gods, whose blind votaries he intends to punish by 
 tlieir means. 
 
S90 SAMSON AGONLSTEb. 
 
 OJi. Samson, this second messag-e from our lords 
 To thee I am hid 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 ; 1353 
 
 Or we shall find such engines to assail 
 And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force. 
 Though thou wert firmlier fasten'd than a rock. 
 
 Sam. I could he well content to try their art 
 Which to no few of them would prove pernicious. 
 Yet knowing their advantages too many, 1401 
 
 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 : 1405 
 
 And for a life who 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. 
 
 Of. I praise thy resolution : doff these links : 1410 
 By this compliance thou wilt win the lords 
 To favour, and perhaps to set thee free. 
 
 Sam. Brethren, farewell; your company along 
 1 will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them 
 To see me girt with friends ; and how the sight 1415 
 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 well-feasted priest then soonest fired 
 With zeal, if aught religion seem concern'd ; 1420 
 No less the people on their holy-da3S 
 Impetuous, insolent, unquenchable : 
 Happen what may, of me expect to hear 
 Nothing dishonourable, impure, unworthy 
 Our God, our lav/, my nation, or myself, 1425 
 
 The last of me or no I cannot warrant. 
 
 Clior. Go, and the Holy One 
 Of Israel be thy guide 
 
 To what may serve his glory best, and spread his 
 Great among the Hea^'hen round; [name 
 
 Send thee the angel of thy birth to stand 1431 
 
 Fast by thy side, Avho from thy father's field 
 Rode up in flames after his message told 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 391 
 
 Of thy conception, and be now a shield 
 Of fire ; that Spirit that first rush'd on thee 1435 
 In the camp of Dan 
 Be efficacious in thee now at need. 
 For never was from Heav'n imparted 
 Measure of strength so great to mortal seed. 
 As in thy wondrous actions hath been seen. 1440 
 
 But wherefore comes old Manoah in such haste 
 With youthful steps'? much livelier than erewhile 
 He soems : supposing- here to find his son, 
 Or of him bringing to us some glad news ? 1444 
 
 Man. Peace with you, brethren ; my inducement 
 Was not at present here to find my son, [hither 
 
 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, 1450 
 
 Lest I should see him forced to things imseemly. 
 But that which moved my coming now was chiefly 
 To give ye part with me what hope I. have 
 With good success to work his liberty. 1454 
 
 Chor. That hope would much rejoice us to partake 
 With thee ; say, rev'rend Sire, we thirst to hear. 
 
 Man. I have attempted one by one the lords 
 Either at home, or through the high street passing. 
 With supplication prone and father's tears. 
 To' accept of ransom for my son their prisoner. 14G0 
 Some much averse I found and Avondrous harsh. 
 Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite ; 
 That part most reverenced Dagon and his priests : 
 Others more moderate seeming, but their aim 
 Private reward, for which both God and state 1465 
 They easily would set to sale : a third 
 , More g-enerous far and civil, who confess'd 
 They had enough revenged, having reduced 
 Their foe to misery beneath their fears, 
 The rest was magnanimity to remit, 1470 
 
 If some convenient ransom were pi'oposed. — 
 What noise or shout was that 1 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 shewn. 1476 
 
 Man. Hi* ransom, if my whole inheritance 
 May compass it, shall willina-lybe paid 
 
302 SAMSON AGONTST^S. 
 
 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. 14S0 
 
 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. 
 Char, Fathers are wont to lay up for their sons, 
 Thou for thy son art bent to lay out all : 1486 
 
 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, 1490 
 And view him sitting in the hoase, ennobled 
 With all those high exploits by him achieved. 
 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 1495 
 
 His strength again to grow up with his hair, 
 Garrison'd round about him like a camp 
 Of faithful soldiery, were not his purpose 
 To use him further yet in some great service ; 
 Not to sit idle with so great a gift 1500 
 
 Useless, and thence ridiculous about him. 
 And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost, 
 God will restore him eye-sight to his strength. 
 
 Chor. Thy hopes are not ill-founded nor seem vain 
 Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon 1505 
 
 Conceived agreeable to a father's love. 
 In both which we, as next, participate. [noise ! 
 
 Man. I know your friendly minds and — O what 
 Mercy of Heav'n, what hideous noise was that? 
 Horribly loud, unlike the former shout. 1510 
 
 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 heard the noise : 
 Oh it continues, they have slain my son. 1516 
 
 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 1 1520 
 Chor, Best keep together here, lest running: thither 
 
SAMSON AGOxNlSTES. 393 
 
 We unawares run iiUo Danger's mouth. 
 
 This evil on the Philistines is fallen ; 
 
 From v/hom could else a general cry be heard t 
 
 The sufferers then Avill scarce molest us here, 1525 
 
 From other lands we need not much to fear. 
 
 What if his eye-sight (for to Israel's God 
 
 Nothing is hard) by miracle restored, 
 
 He now be dealing dole among his foes. 
 
 And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way ? 1530 
 
 Man. That were a joy presumptuous 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 ; 
 Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief, 
 A little stay will bring some notice hither. 153S 
 
 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. 154C 
 
 Mes. O whither shall I run, or which way fly 
 The sight of this so hoi-rid spectacle. 
 Which erst my eyes beheld and yet behold 1 
 For dire imagination still pursues me. 
 But Providence or instinct of nature seems, 1545 
 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, 1550 
 Though 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. 
 
 Mes. It would burst forth, but I recover breath 
 And sense distract, to know well what I utter. 1553 
 
 Man. Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer. 
 
 Mes. Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are falle/i, 
 All in a moment overwhelm'd and fallen. 
 
 Man. Sad, bat thou know'st to Israelites not saddest 
 The desolation of a hostile city. 1531 
 
 Mes. Feed on that first, there may in grief be svir- 
 
 Man. Relate by whom. [feit. 
 
 Mes. By Samson. 
 
 1556. Distract , used also as an adjective by Shakspeare. 
 S2 
 
394 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Man. That still lesseiig 
 
 The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy. 
 
 Mes. Ah, Manoah, I refrain too suddenly 15G5 
 
 To utter what will come at last too soon ; 
 Lest evil tidings with too rude irruption 
 Hitting- thy ag-ed ear should pierce too deep, 
 
 Man. Suspense in news is torture, speak them out. 
 
 Mes. 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 wlio sets all free 
 Hath paid his ransom now and fall discharge. 
 What windy joy this day had I conceived 
 Hopeful of his delivery, which now proves 1575 
 
 Abortive as the first-born bloom of Spring- 
 Nipt with the lag'g-ing rear of winter's frost ! 
 Yet ere I give the reins to gTief, say first 
 How died he ; death to life is crown or shame. 
 All by him fell thou say'st, by whom fell he, 1580 
 What glorious hand gave Samson his death's wound ? 
 
 3Ies. Un wounded of his enemies he fell. 
 
 Man. Wearied with slaughter then, or how? ex- 
 
 Mes. By his own hands. [plain. 
 
 Man. Self-violence ? what cause 
 
 Brought him so soon at variance with himself 1585 
 Among- his foes 1 
 
 3Ies. 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 puU'd. 
 
 Man. O lastly over-strong- against thyself I 1590 
 A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenj^e. 
 More than enough we know; but while thing-s yet 
 Are in confusion, give us if thou canst, 
 Eye-witness of what first or last was done. 
 Relation more pai-ticular and distinct. 1595 
 
 Mes. Occasions 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 dispatch'd. 
 When all abroad was rumour'd that this day 1600 
 Samson should be brought forth to shew the people 
 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. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 395 
 
 The building- was a spacious theatre 1005 
 
 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 scalToidi;, under sky might stand ; 1610 
 
 I among these aloof obscurely stood. 
 
 The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice [wine, 
 
 Had fiU'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer, and 
 
 When to their sports they turn'd. Immediately 
 
 Was Samson as a pviblic servant brought, 1615 
 
 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 hitn the people with a shout 1620 
 
 Rifted the air, clamouring their god with praise. 
 
 Who' had made their dreadful enemy their thrall. 
 
 He patient but undaunted where they led him, 
 
 Came to the place, and what was set before him, 
 
 Which without help of eye might be assay'd 1625 
 
 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 requested 1630 
 
 (For so from such as nearer stood we heard) 
 
 As over-tired 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 1036 
 
 Felt in his arms, with head a while inclined. 
 
 And eyes fast lix'd, he stood, as one who pray'd. 
 
 Or some great matter in his mind revolved : 
 
 At last with head erect thus cry'd aloud, 
 
 * Hitherto, Lords, what your commands imposed 1640 
 
 I have perform'd, as reason was, obeying. 
 
 Not without wonder or delight beheld : 
 
 1603. Buildings are mentioned by Pliny the naturalist which 
 were supported only by one pillar, and Dr. Shaw says in hit 
 Travels, that the eastern theatres are built in the form of an ad- 
 vanced cloister or penthouse, supported by one or two pillars ir> 
 the front or centre. Supposing-, therefore, that the house of Dag-on 
 was built, as is most probable, in tliis manner, the destruction 
 which followed the exertion of Samson's streng-th was inevitable. 
 1619 Cataphracts, me!; pr horses completely armed. 
 
Sli6 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Now of my own accord such other trial 
 I mean to shew you of my strength, yet greater; 
 As with amaze shall strike all who hehold.* 1645 
 
 This utter'd, straining- all his nerves he how'd. 
 As with the force of winds and w^aters pent 
 When mountains tremble, those two miassy pillariS 
 With horrible convulsion to and fro 1649 
 
 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, 1655 
 
 Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. 
 Samson with these immix'd, inevitably 
 PuU'd down the same destruction on himself; 
 The vulgar only 'scaped who stood without. 
 
 Chor. dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious! 1660 
 Living- or dying thou hast fulfill'd 
 The woT-k for which thou wast foretold 
 To Israel, and now ly'st victorious 
 Among thy slain self-kill'd. 
 
 Not willingly, but tangled in the fold 1665 
 
 Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd 
 Thee with thy slaughter'd foes, in number more 
 Than all thy life hath slain before. [sublime, 
 
 1 Sejnichor. W^hile their hearts were jocund and 
 Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, 1670 
 
 And fat regorged of bulls and goats, 
 Chaunting their idol, and preferring 
 Before our living Dread who dwells 
 In Silo, his bright sanctuary ; 
 
 Among them he a spirit of frenzy sent, 167.5 
 
 Who hurt their minds. 
 And urged them on with mad desire 
 To call in haste for their destroyer ; 
 They only set on sport and play 
 
 Unweetingly importuned 1680 
 
 Their own destruction to come speedy upon them. 
 So fond are mortal men 
 Fallen into wrath divine. 
 As their own ruin on themselves to* invite, 
 
 1667. Judg-. xvi. 30. 
 1674. Si/v, tlie tabernacle and ark were there ut thi3 t^ije 
 
SAMSON AGOIJISTES. 397 
 
 Insensate left, or to sense reprobate, 1685 
 
 And with blindness internal struck. 
 
 2 Semichor. But he, though blind of sight> 
 Despised and thoug-ht exting-uish'd quite 
 With inward eyes illuminated, 
 
 His fiery virtue roused 1091) 
 
 From under ashes into sudden flame, 
 And as an eveniiig dragon came. 
 Assailant on the perched roosts. 
 And nests in order ranged 
 
 Of tame villatic fowl; but as an eag-le 1695 
 
 His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads. 
 So virtue g'iven for lost, 
 Depress'd, and overthrown, as seem'd, 
 Like that self-begotten bird 
 
 In the Arabian woods imbost, 1700 
 
 That no second knows nor third, 
 And lay ere while a holocaust, 
 Fi'om out her ashy womb now teem'd, 
 Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most 
 When most unactive deem'd, 1705 
 
 ^.\\A. though her body die, her fame sui'vives 
 A secular bird ages of lives. 
 
 Man. Come, come, no time for lamentation now. 
 Nor much more cause ; Samson hath quit himself 
 Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd 1710 
 
 A life heroic, on his enemies 
 
 Fully revenged, hath left them years of mourning. 
 And lamentation to the sons of Caphtor 
 Through all Philistian bounds, to Israel 
 Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them 1715 
 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. 
 But favouring and assisting to the end. 1720 
 
 Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
 Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt. 
 Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair 
 
 1695. ViUattc, domestic, from the Latin Villa. 
 
 1700. Imbost, embowered or concealed, from the Ftalian word 
 imboscaref I conjecture. — Spenser uses it. Faery Queen, B. 1. 
 Can. 3. St. 24. 
 
 1713. Sons of Caphtor, Philistines from the island of Caphtor, 
 who settled in Palestine. 
 
39$ SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 And what may quiet us in a death so noble. 
 
 Let us go find the body where it lies 1725 
 
 Soak'd in his enemies' blood, and from the stream 
 
 With layers pure and cleansing- herbs wash off 
 
 The clotted gore. I vrith what speed the while 
 
 (Gaza is not in plight to say us nay) 
 
 Will send for all my kindred, all my friends, 1730 
 
 To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend 
 
 With silent obsequN^ 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, 1735 
 
 With all his trophies hung, and acts inroU'd 
 
 In copious legend, or sv/eet lyric song*. 
 
 Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, 
 
 And from his memory inflame their breasts 
 
 To matchless valour, and adventures high : 1740 
 
 The virgins also shall on feastful days 
 
 Visit his tomb with flow'rs, only bewailing' 
 
 His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice. 
 
 From whence captivity and loss of eyes. 
 
 Chor. All is best, though v/e oft doubt 1745 
 
 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, 1750 
 
 And to his faithful champion hath in place 
 Bore witness gloriously ; whence Gaza mourns 
 And all that band them to resist 
 His uncontrollable intent .; 
 
 His servants he with new acquist 1755 
 
 Of true experience, from this great event. 
 With peace and consolation hath dismist. 
 And calm of mind, all passions spent. 
 
 1730. This circumstance is founded on Judg'. xvi. 31. 
 
 To the lovers of the classical drama, Samson Ag-onistes is full 
 of beauty ; its regularity, the clearness and solemnity of its dic- 
 tion, the" pathos of Manoah's character, and the well-sustained 
 Feverity of Samson's, are all calculated to secure their admira- 
 tion. But it is not the g-enerality of readers who can see beauty 
 in propriety, or feel sympathy with a passion which is more 
 etrong than 'vehement ; and to these tliis poem will always fail of 
 jLiiterest. 
 
C O M U S, 
 
 A MASK : 
 
 Presented at Ludloio Castle, 1634, hefore the Eurl 
 of Bridgewater, then President of Wales. 
 
 THE PERSONS. 
 
 The attendant Spirit, | The Lady, 
 
 afterwards in the habit ] First Brother. 
 
 of Thyrsi.-,. I Second Brother, 
 
 Comus with liis crew. | Sabrina, the Nymph. 
 
 The chief perbons who presented were. 
 
 The Lord Brackley. 
 
 Mr. Thom^is Eg-erton, liis brother. 
 
 The Lady Alice Egerton. 
 
 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 insphered 
 
 In regions mild of calm and serene air. 
 
 Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot, 5 
 
 Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care 
 
 Confined, 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 '^ 
 
 Among-st the enthroned Gods on sainted seats. 
 
 Yet some there be that by due steps aspire 
 
 1. Thispxquisite little drama is, next to Paradise Lost, ti e rro- 
 splendid offsprins: of Milton's ffenins. Never were the Jr'eliest 
 graces of natural description more felioitouslv employed, cnr the 
 union of what ii beautiful in the moral and imaginative of poetry 
 wore comulcte. 
 
 2D 
 
400 COMUS. 
 
 To lay their just hands on that golden key 
 
 That opes the palace of Eternity : 
 
 To such nay errand is : and hut for such, 15 
 
 1 would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds 
 
 With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould. 
 
 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 20 
 
 Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles. 
 That like to rich and various gems inlay 
 The unadorned bosom of tlie deep. 
 Which he to grace his tributary gods 
 By course commits to several go\ernment, 25 
 
 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 30 
 
 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 nursed in princely lore 
 Ai-e coming to attend their father's state, 35 
 
 And new intrusted sceptre ; but their way 
 Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear wood» 
 The nodding horror of whose shady brows 
 1-ireats the foi-loi-n and wand'ring passenger; 
 And here their tender age might suffer peril, 40 
 
 But that by quick command from sovereigTi Jove 
 I was dispatch'd for their defence and guard ; 
 And listen why, for 1 will tell you now 
 What never yet was heard in tale or song. 
 From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. 45 
 
 Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape 
 Crush'd the sweet poison of mis-used wine, 
 After the Tuscan mariners transfoi'm'd, 
 Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed, 
 On Circe's island fell : (who knows not Circe 50 
 
 The daughter of the Sun? whose charmed cup 
 
 48. The Tuscan Mariners ; they were transformed by Bacchus, 
 whom they had ang-ered, into ships and dolphins. — See Ovid, 
 Met. iii. 8. The story of Circe and her transformations is well 
 Kuown. — Homer, Odyss. x. 
 
COMUS. 401 
 
 Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape, 
 And downward fell into a gTovelling- sv/ine :) 
 This nymph, that gazed upon his clust'ving locks. 
 With ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe yooith, 55 
 Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son 
 -^uch like his father, but his mother more, 
 Whom therefore she brought iip, and Com us named ; 
 Who ripe, and frolic of his full grown age, 
 Roving- the Celtic and Iberian held, 60 
 
 At last betakes him to this ominous wood. 
 And in thick shelter of black shades imbower'd 
 Excels his mother at her mighty art, 
 Offering' to every weary traveller 64 
 
 His orient liquor in a crystal glass, [taste 
 
 To quench the drought of Phoebus, which as they 
 (For most do taste through fond intemp'rate thirst) 
 Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance, 
 Th' express resemblance of the g'ods, is rhanged 
 Into some brutish form of wolf, or bear, 70 
 
 Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded g'oat. 
 All other parts remaining- as they were ; 
 And they, so perfect is their miser}', 
 Not once perceive their foul disfigurement. 
 But boast themselves move comely than before, 75 
 And all their friends and native home forget, 
 To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty. 
 Therefore v^hen any favour'd of high Jove 
 Chances to pass through this advent'rous glade, 
 /'Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star / 80 
 
 I shoot from heav'n, to give him safe convoy, 
 As now I do : but first I must put ofi 
 These my sky robes spun out of Iris woof. 
 And take the weeds and likeness of a swain, 
 That to the service of this house belongs, 85 
 
 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 99 
 
 Of this occasion. But I hear the tread 
 Of hateful steps. I must be viewless now. 
 
 60. Celtic and Iberian field ; France and Spain, 
 83. Par. Lost, xi. 274. 
 
402 COMUS. 
 
 Cotnus enters with a charming rod in one hand, his 
 glass in the other ; ivith him a rout of monsters, 
 headed like sundry sorts of wild beasts, but other- 
 wise like men and women, their apparel glittering ; 
 they come in making a riotous and unruly noise, 
 with torches in their hands. 
 
 Com. The star that bids the shepherd fold. 
 Now the top of Heav'ii doth hold, 
 And the g-ilded car of Day, 95 
 
 His glowing- axle doth allay 
 In the steep Atlantic stream, 
 And the slope Sun his upward beam 
 Shoots ag'ainst the dusky pole, 
 
 Pacing- toward the other g'oal 100 
 
 Of his chamber in the East. 
 Meanwhile welcome Joy and Feast, 
 Midniglit Shout and Revelry, 
 Tipsy Dance, and Jollity, 
 
 Braid your locks with rosy twine, 105 
 
 Dropping odoui's, 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. 110 
 
 V/e that are of purer fire 
 Imitate the starry quire, 
 Who in their nightly watchful spheres. 
 Lead in swift round the months and years. 
 The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove, 115 
 Now to the moon in v/avering morrice move ; 
 And on the tav/ny sands and shelves 
 Trip the pert faeries and the dapper elves. 
 By dimpled brook and fountain brim, 
 The wood-nymphs deok'd with daisies trim, 120 
 
 Their merry wakes and pastimes keep : 
 
 „.— ^' 
 
 93. It would be impossible, perbaps, to find a niore exquisite 
 piece of iimsical versification tiian the following-. The beauty and 
 variety of the imag-ery are equally unsurpassed. 
 
 lOS. It would be useless to point out the many trifling' altera- 
 tions which appear in the nianuscript and first "editions of this 
 poem ; a few, however, are worth observing, and among then;, 
 that of this line, which originally stood — 
 
 And quick law with her scrupulovs head. 
 117. Tawmj ; originally, yf^Zi)?^. 
 
Trap the pert faeries -and the dapper elves. 
 Ey clmiplecl Lrook snA foLmtaxn. liuTni, 
 me wood-n.yin-p]i-S , deci'cl "with daisjr- 
 Their merry l^^a"kes and pasliin 
 
COMUS. 403 
 
 What hath nig'ht to do with sleep? 
 
 Niu,ht hath better sweets to prove, 
 
 Venus now wakes, and wakens Love. 
 
 Come let us our rites begin, 125 
 
 'Tis only day-light that makes sin. 
 
 Which these dun shades will ne'er report. 
 
 Hail Goddess of nocturnal sport, 
 
 Dark-veil'd Gotytto, t' whom the secret flame 
 
 Of midnight torches bums ; mysterious dame, 130 
 
 That ne'er art call'd, but when the dragon womb 
 
 Of St5-gian darkness spits her thickest gloom, 
 
 And makes one blot of all the air. 
 
 Stay thy cloudy ebon chair. 
 
 Wherein thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend 133 
 
 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 ]\roni on the Indian steep 
 
 From her cabind loop-hole peep, 140 
 
 And to the tell-tale Sun descry 
 
 Our conceal 'd solemnity. 
 
 Come, knit hands, and beat the ground 
 
 In a light fantastic round. 
 
 The Pleasure. 
 Break off, break off, I feel the different pace 145 
 
 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, 150 
 And to my wily trains ; I shall ere long 
 Be well stock'd with as fair a herd as grazed 
 About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl 
 My dazzling spells into the spung-y air. 
 Of power to cheat the e^e with blear illusion, 155 
 And give it false presentments, lest the place 
 And my quaint habits breed astonishment. 
 And put the damsel to suspicious flight, 
 ^\ hich must not be, for that 's against my course ; 
 I under fair pretence of friendly ends, 160 
 
 120. Cotytto; the goddess of licentioiis pleasure^:. 
 4i. Tell-tale; discovering' the secrets of the iiighu 
 
404 COMU'J. 
 
 And well-placed words of glozing" courtecy 
 
 Baited with reasons not implausible, 
 
 Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 
 
 And hug' him into snares. When once her eye 
 
 Hath met the virtue of this magic dust, 165 
 
 1 shall appear some harmless villager 
 
 Whom thrift keeps up about his country g-ear. 
 
 But here she comes, I fairly step aside, 
 
 And hearken, if I may, her business here. 
 
 The Lady enters. 
 This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, 170 
 
 My best g-uide nov/ ; methought it v/as the sound 
 Of riot and ill-managed merriment. 
 Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipe 
 Stirs up among- the loose unletter'd hinds, 
 When for their teeming flocks, and grang-es full, 175 
 In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan, 
 And thank the Gods amiss. I should be loath 
 To meet the mdeness and swill'd insolence 
 Of such late wassailers; yet O where else 
 Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 180 
 
 In the blind mazes of this tangled wood 1 
 My brothers, when they saw me wearied out 
 With this long way, resolving here to lodge 
 Under the spreading favour of these pines, 
 Stept, as they said, to the next thicket side 185 
 
 To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit 
 As the kind hospitable woods provide. 
 They left me then, when the grey-hooded Even 
 Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, 
 Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain. 190 
 But where they are, and why they came not back. 
 Is nov/ the labour of my thought ; 'tis likeliest 
 They had engaged their wand'ring steps too far, 
 And envious Darkness, ere they could return. 
 Had stole them from me : else, O thievish Night, 19o 
 Why should'st thou, but for some felonioiis end, 
 In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars. 
 That Nature hung in Heav'n, and fill'd their lamps 
 With everlasting oil, to give due light 
 
 181. Ori^nally, 
 
 In the blind alleys of this arched wood. 
 
COM us. 
 
 405 
 200 
 
 205 
 
 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 my listening ear. 
 
 Yet nought but single darkness do T find. 
 
 What mig'lit this be 'I A thousand fantasies 
 
 Begin to throng- into my memory, 
 
 Of calling- shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire. 
 
 And aery tongues, that syllable men's names 
 
 On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses. 
 
 These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 210 
 
 The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 
 
 By a strong siding chanapion, Conscience. — 
 
 welcome pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope, 
 Thou hovering angel gii-t with golden wings, 
 
 And thou xinblemish'd form of Chastity ; 215 
 
 1 see ye visik>ly, 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. 
 CvVas I deceived, 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. 
 I cannot hallow to my brothers, btit 
 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. 
 
 220 
 
 225 
 
 Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen 230 
 Within thy aery shell, 
 By slow Meander's margent green. 
 And in the violet-embroider'd vale, 
 
 Where the love-lorn nightingale 
 Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well ; 235 
 Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair 
 That likest thy Narcissus are ? 
 
 208. This beautiful expression was not at first written. The 
 line was, Tliat lure night-wanderers, 
 
 226. This is a very ing-enious invention to introduce the bcaufl 
 ful sonfj which follows. 
 
406 COMUS. 
 
 O if thou liave 
 Hid them in some flow'ry cave. 
 
 Tell me but where, 240 
 
 Sweet queen of parly, daughter of the sphere ; 
 So niay'st thou be translated to the skies, 
 And give resounding' grace to all Heav'n's harmonies. 
 
 Com. Can any mortal mixture of Earth's mould 
 Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment 1 245 
 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 Ni_,ht, 250 
 At ev'ry fall smoothing the raven down 
 Of Darkness till it smiled ! I have oft heard 
 My mother Circe with the Sirens three, 
 Amidst the flow'ry-kirtled Naiades 
 Culling their potent herbs, and baleful drugs, 255 
 Who, as they sung, would take the prison 'd soul. 
 And lap it in Elysium ; Scylla wept. 
 And chid her barking waves into attention. 
 And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause : 
 Yet they in peaceful slumber luU'd the sense, 260 
 And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself; 
 But such a sacred and home-felt delight, 
 Such sober certainty of waking bliss, 
 I never heard till now. I'll speak to her. 
 And she shall be my queen. Hail foreign wonder, 2S5 
 Whom certain these rough shades did never breed. 
 Unless the goddess that in rural shrine 
 Dwell'st here with Pan, or Sylvan, by blest song- 
 Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog 
 To touch the prosp'rous growth of this tall wood. 270 
 
 La. Nay, gentle Shepherd, ill is lost that praise 
 That is address'd to unattending ears ; 
 Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift 
 How to regain my sever'd company, 
 Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo 275 
 
 To give me answer from her mossy couch. 
 
 Com. What chance, good Lady, hath bereft you thus T 
 
 J54. This and the following verse were added by Milton to the 
 original copy, ana inserted in the margin. 
 
COMUS 407 
 
 La. Dim darkne^■s, and this leafy labyrinth. 
 Com. Could that divide you from near-ushering 
 La. They left me weary on a grassy turf, [guides! 
 Com. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why? 281 
 La. To seek i' th' valley some cool friendly spring-. 
 Com And left your fair side all ung-uarded, Lady'? 
 La. They were but twain, and purposed quick re- 
 turn. 
 Com. Perhaps forestalling Night prevented them. 
 La. How easy my misfortune is to hit ! 286 
 
 Com^. ImpoT'ts their loss, beside the present need \ 
 La. No less than if I should my brothers lose. 
 Com. Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom ? 
 La. As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips. 290 
 Com. Two such I saw, what time the labour'd ox 
 [n his loose traces from the furrow came, 
 And the swinkt hedger at his supper sat ; 
 I saw them under a green mantling* vine 
 That crawls along the side of yon small hill, 295 
 Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots ; 
 Their port was more than human, as they stood : 
 1 took it for a faery vision 
 Of some gay creatures of the element, 
 That in the colours of the rain-bow live, 300 
 
 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 Heav'n, 
 To help you find them. 
 
 I^a. Gentle Villager, 
 
 What readiest way would bring me to that place ? 
 Com. Due west it rises from this shnibby point. 306 
 La. 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-practised feet. 310 
 / Com. I know each lane, and every alley green, 
 /Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood, 
 And every bosky bourn from side t© side. 
 My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood; 
 And if your stray-attendants be yet lodged, 315 
 
 Or shroud within these limits, I shall know 
 Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark 
 uoi. Plightedf instead of plaited, to avoid its jarring whli ptay, 
 
 h 
 
408 COM US 
 
 From her tliatcli'd pallat rouse ; if otherwise, 
 
 I can conduct you, Lady, to a low 
 
 But loyal cottage, where 3'ou may be safe ?20 
 
 Till further quest. 
 
 La. Shepherd, I take thy word. 
 
 And trust thy honest offer'd courtesy, 
 Whijh oft is sooner found in lowly sheds 
 With smoky rafters, than in tapestry halls. 
 And courts of princes, where it first was named, 325 
 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, blest Providence, and square my trial 
 To my proportion'd strength. Shephei'd, lead on. 330 
 
 The Two Brothers. 
 
 E. Bro. Unmufiie, ye faint Stars, and thou fair 
 That wont'st to love the traveller's benizon, [Moon, 
 Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, 
 And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here 
 In double night of darkness and of shades ; 335 
 
 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, 340 
 And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, 
 Or Tyrian Cynosure. 
 
 Y. 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 pastoral reeds with oaten stops, 343 
 
 Or whistle from the lodge or village cock 
 Count the night watches to his feathery dames, 
 'T would be some solace yet, some little cheering 
 In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. 
 But O that hapless virgin, our lost Sister, 350 
 
 Where may she wander now, whither 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 
 of Arcad- kc the greater and lesser 
 
COMUS. 409 
 
 What if in wild amazement and affriglit ? 356 
 
 Or, while we speat, within the direful g-rasp 
 Of savag^e hung*er or of savage heat 1 
 
 E. Bro. Peace, Bi-other, be not over-exquisite 
 To cast the fashion of uncertain evils : \ 360 
 
 ' 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 1 
 Or, if they be but false alarms of fear, 
 How bitter is such self-delusion 1 365 
 
 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 slie is not) 370 
 
 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 s\in and moon 
 Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self 375 
 Oft seeks to sweet retired Solitude, 
 Where with her best nurse, Contemplation, 
 She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings. 
 That in the various bustle of resort 
 Were all too ruffled, and sonietimes impair'd. 380 
 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 : 
 Himself is his own dungeon. 
 
 Y. Bro. 'Tis most true, 3S5 
 
 That musing meditation most affects 
 The pensive secrecy of desert cell. 
 Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds. 
 And sits as safe as in a senate house ; 
 For who would rob a hermit of his weeds, 390 
 
 His few books, or his beads, or mfl,ple 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, 395 
 
 To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit 
 From the rash hand of bold Incontinence. 
 T 
 
410 COMUS. 
 
 You may as well spread cut the unsiinn'd. heaps 
 
 Of miser's treasure by an outlaw's den, 
 
 And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 400 
 
 Danger v/ill wink on Opportunity^ 
 
 And let a single helpless maiden pass 
 
 Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste. 
 
 Of night, or loneliness, it recks me not ; 
 
 I fear the dread events that dog them both, 405 
 
 Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt the person 
 
 Of our unowned Sister. 
 
 E. 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 410 
 
 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 
 As you imagine ; she has hidden strength, 415 
 
 Which you remember not. 
 
 y. Bro. What hidden strength. 
 
 Unless the strength of Heav'n, if you mean that ? 
 
 E. Bro. I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength, 
 Which if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own : 
 'Tis Chastity, my brother, Chastity: 420 
 
 She that has that is clad in complete steel. 
 And like a quiver'd nymph witli arrows keen 
 May trace huge forests, and unharbour'd heaths, 
 Infamous hills and sandy perilous wilds. 
 Where, through the sacred rays of Chastity, 425 
 
 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 v/ith unblench'd majesty, 430 
 
 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 curfeu time, 435 
 No goblin, or swart faery of the mine, 
 
 432. This passage is in very clooe imitation of one in Fletcher's 
 * Faithful Shepherdess.' 
 
COMUS. 411 
 
 Hath hurtful powea* o'er true virg-iriity. 
 Do ye believe me yet, or shall 1 call 
 Antiquity from the old schools of Greece 
 To testify the arms of Chastity "? 440 
 
 lleuce had the huntress Dian her dread bow. 
 Fair silver-shafted queen, for ever chaste, 
 Wherev/ith she tamed the brinded lioness 
 And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought 
 The frivolous bolt of Cupid : Gods and men 445 
 
 Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen o' th' 
 What was that snaky-headed Gorg'on shield [woods. 
 That wise Minerva v/ore, unconquer'd virgin. 
 Wherewith she freezed her foes to congeal'd stone. 
 But rigid looks of chaste austerity, 450 
 
 And noble grace that dash'd brute violence 
 With sudden adoration, and blank awe ? 
 So dear to Heav'n is saintly Chastity, 
 That when a soul is found sincerely so, 
 A thousand liveried Angels lacky her, 455 
 
 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 convei'se with heav'nly habitants 
 Begin to cast a beam on th' outv/ard shape, 460 
 
 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, 465 
 
 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 470 
 Oft seen in charnel vaults, and sepulchres, 
 
 462. The same strong' appearance of complete materialism in 
 pentinient, is discoverable in this passasre as in several parts of 
 Paradise Lost —It, however, admits of the sanie partial explena- 
 tion, as it may be taken to refer solely to that perfect change 
 which shall be'produced in the body when it puts on immortality, 
 and which I imagine will not be a' mere renovation of youth or 
 beautv, but a chanire in the corporeal essence, if I may so sfieak, 
 of our eartlily frauTes. For at present it is their nature to decay, 
 hereafter it will be their nature to exist unchanged. It is nothing 
 fa«t their essence becoming different, can effect this. 
 
412 COMUS. 
 
 Lingering", and sitting- by a new-made grave, 
 
 As loath to leave the body that it loved, 
 
 And link'd itself by carnal sensuality 
 
 To a degenerate and degraded state. 475 
 
 Y. 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. 
 
 E. Bro. List, list, I hear 480 
 
 Some far off halloo break the silent air. 
 
 Y. Bro, Methought so too ; what should it be ? 
 
 JS. 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. 485 
 
 Y. Bro. Heav'n keep my Sister. Again, again. 
 Best draw, and stand upon our guard. [and near ; 
 
 E. Bro. I'll halloo ; 
 
 If he be friendly, he comes well ; if not, 
 Defence is a good cause, and Heav'n be for us. 
 
 The attendant Spirit, habited like a shepherd. 
 
 That halloo I should know, v/hat are you? speak ; 
 Come not too near, you fall on iron stakes else. 491 
 
 Spi. What voice is that 1 my young Lord \ speak 
 again. 
 
 Y. Bro. O Brother, 'tis my father's shepherd, sure. 
 
 E. Bro. Thyrsis '? whose artful strains have oft de- 
 The huddling brook to hear his madrigal, [lay'd 
 
 And sweeten'd every musk-rose of the dale. 496 
 
 How cam'st thou here, good Swain 1 hath any ram 
 Slipt fi'om the fold, or young kid lost his dam. 
 Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook 1 
 How could 'st thou find this dark sequester'd nook 1 
 
 Spi. my loved master's heir, and his next joy, 
 I came not here on such a tiivial toy 
 As a stray 'd ewe, or to pursue the stealth 
 Of pilfering wolf ; not all the fleecy wealth 
 That doth enrich these downs is worth a thought 
 To this my errand, and the care it brought. 506 
 
 But, O my virgin Lady, where is she 1 
 How chance she is not in your company ? 
 
COMUH. 413 
 
 E^ Bro. To tell thee sadly. Shepherd, without 
 blame. 
 Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 510 
 
 Spi. Aye me unhappy! then my fears are true. 
 
 JE. Bro. What fears, good Thyrsis 1 Prithee briefly 
 
 Spi. I'll tell ye; 'tis not vain or fabulous [shew. 
 (Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance) 
 What the sage poets, taught by th' heav'nly Muse, 
 Story 'd of old in high immortal verse, 516 
 
 Of dire chimeras and enchanted isles. 
 And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to Hell ; 
 For such there be, but unbelief is blind. 
 
 Within the navel of this hideous wood, 520 
 
 Immured 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, 525 
 
 With many murmurs 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 hare I learnt 530 
 
 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 abhon*ed rites to Hecate 535 
 
 In their obscured haunts of inmost bov/ers. 
 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 540 
 tiad 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, 545 
 
 Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy. 
 To meditate my rural minstrelsy. 
 Till Fancy had her fill ; but ere a close, 
 
 503. Sadly , not sorrowfully, but gravely, soberiy. 
 331. Crofts, little pasture fields. 
 
414 COMUS. 
 
 The wonted roar was up amidst the woods, 
 
 And fill'd the air with barbarous dissonance ; 55C 
 
 At which I ceased, and listen 'd them a while. 
 
 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 555 
 
 Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes, 
 
 And stole upon the air, that even Silence 
 
 Was took, ere she was ware, and wish'd she might 
 
 Deny her nature, and be never more 
 
 Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, 560 
 
 And took in strains that might create a soul 
 
 Under the ribs of Death : but 0, ere long. 
 
 Too well I did perceive it was the voice 
 
 Of my most honoured Lady, your dear sister. 
 
 Amazed I stood, harrow 'd with grief and fear, 565 
 
 And O poor hapless nightingale, thought I, 
 
 How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare! 
 
 Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste, 
 
 Thrcugh paths and turnings often trod by day, 
 
 Till guided by mine ear I found the place, 570 
 
 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, 575 
 
 Supposing him some neighbour villager. 
 
 Longer I durst not stay, but soon I gaess'd 
 
 Ye were the tv/o she meant ; v/ith that 1 sprung 
 
 Into sv/ift flight, till I had found you here ; 
 
 But further know I not. 
 
 Y. Bro. O Night and shades, 580 
 
 How are ye join'd with Hell in triple knot. 
 Against the unarm'd weakness of one virgin. 
 Alone and helpless! Is this the confidence 
 You gave rae. Brother? 
 
 E. Bro. Yes, and keep it still. 
 
 Lean on it safely ; not a period 585 
 
 Shall be unsaid for me : against the threats 
 
 561. There is an old emblem representing a soul in the form 
 of ail infant under the ribs of a skeleton. It is to be found Ja 
 Quarlee. 
 
COMUS. 415 
 
 Of Malice or of Sorcery, or that power 
 
 Which erring' men call Chance, this I hold firm, 
 
 Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt. 
 
 Surprised by unjust force, but not enthrall'd; i&O 
 
 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 aA last 
 
 Gather'd like scum, and settled to itself, 595 
 
 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 600 
 
 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 form's COS 
 
 '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, 
 
 Cursed as his life. 
 
 Spi. Alas ! good venturous Youth, 
 
 £ love thy courage yet, and bold emprise : 610 
 
 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. 615 
 
 £. Bro. Why, prithee. Shepherd, 
 How durst thou then thyself approach so near. 
 As to make this relation ? 
 
 Spi. 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, 37et well skill'd G20 
 
 In every virtuous pJ.ant and healing herb. 
 That spreads her verdant leaf to th' morning ray : 
 He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing. 
 Which when I did, he on the tender grass 
 Would sit, and hearken even to ecstasy, Qi5 
 
 And in requital ope his leathern scrip, 
 4nd shew me simples of a thousand names, 
 2 E 
 
416 COMUS. 
 
 Telling their strange and visrorous faculties: 
 
 Among- the rest a small unsightly root, 
 
 But of divine effect, he cuU'd me out ; 630 
 
 The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, 
 
 But in another country, as he said. 
 
 Bore a bright golden flower, but aiot in this soil : 
 
 Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain 
 
 Treads on it daily v/ith his clouted shoon ; 635 
 
 And yet more medcinal is it than that Moly 
 
 That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave ; 
 
 He call'd it Harmony, and gave it me. 
 
 And bade me keep it as of sovereign use 
 
 'Gainst all enchantments, mildew, blast, or damp. 
 
 Or ghastly furies' apparition. 641 
 
 I pursed it ir^, but little reckoning made. 
 
 Till now that this extreixiity compell'd : 
 
 But now I find it true ; for by this means 
 
 I knew the foul enchanter though disguised, 645 
 
 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 hai'dihood G50 
 
 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 cursed crew 
 
 Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high, 
 
 Or, like the sons of Vulcan, vomit smoke, 655 
 
 Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink. 
 
 E. Bro. Thyrsis, lead on apace, 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 deliciousness : soft music, tablta 
 spread 7vith all daijities. Comus appears ivith Ids 
 rabble, and the Lady set in an enchanted chair, 
 to whom he offers his glass, which she puts by, and 
 goes about to rise. 
 
 Com. Nay, Lady, sit; if I but wave this wand, 
 
 636. The commentators are not at all determined what plants 
 a'e here meant; nor can I discover any information in their ela- 
 oorate inc^niries which would serve to eiilierhten the reader c n the 
 subject. I'he herbs mentioned were probably known in Milton's 
 time, for some supposed power which the superstitious attributed 
 to them, and their names altered by iiim to suit his poeticaJ 
 phraseology. 
 
\ 
 
 COMUS. 417 
 
 Your nerves are all cliain'd up in alabaster, 660 
 
 And you a statue, or as Daphne was 
 Root-bound, that fled. Apollo. 
 
 La. Fool, do not boast, 
 
 Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 
 With all thy charms, although this corporal rind 
 Thou hast immanacled, while Heaven sees g-ood. 665 
 
 Com. Why are you vex'd, Lady ? why do you frown 1 
 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 grov/s lively, and returns 670 
 Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season. 
 And first behold this cordial julep hei-e, 
 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 675 
 In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena, 
 [s of such power to stir up joy as this, 
 To life so friendly, or so cool to thiust. 
 Why should you be so cruel to yourself, 
 And to those dainty limbs which nature lent 680 
 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 received on other teinns, 
 Scorning the unexempt condition 685 
 
 By which all mortal frailty must subsist, 
 Refreshment after toil, ease after pain. 
 That have been tired all day without repast. 
 And timely rest have wanted ; but, fair Virgin, 
 This will restore all soon. 
 
 La. 'Twill not, false traitor, 6D0 
 
 •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 nie ! 695 
 Hence with thy brew'd enchantments, foul deceiver : 
 
 662. This speech and the first line of the next, were added to 
 the orig-inal draus^lit of the poem. 
 
 675. A liquor, which it is said, in Homer, Odyss. iv. 219, Heleni 
 had been taimiit to make by the wife of Tlione, an Egyptian 
 Kinj, See also Spenser, Fae. Qu. B. 4. Can. 3. St. 43 
 T 2 
 
4TS COMUS. 
 
 Hast thou betray'd my credulous innocence 
 
 With visor'd falsehood and base forgery ? 
 
 And would 'st thou seek again to trap me here 
 
 With liquorish baits, fit to insnare a brute ? 700 
 
 Were it a draft 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 which is not good is not delicious 
 
 To a well-g'ovem'd and wise appetite. 703 
 
 Com, O foolishness of men! that lend their ears 
 To those budg'e 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 710 
 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, 715 
 
 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 ow^n loins 
 She hutcht th' all-worshipp'd ore, and precious gems 
 To store her children with : if all the world 720 
 
 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 unpraised, 
 Not half his riches known, and yet despised. 
 And we should serve him as a grudging master, 725 
 As a penurious niggard of his wealth, 
 And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons, 
 Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight, 
 And strangled with her waste fertility, 723 
 
 Th' earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark'd with 
 The herds would over-multitude their lords, [plumes, 
 The sea o'erfraught would swell, and th' unsought 
 
 diamonds 
 Would so imblaze the forehead of the deep. 
 And so bestud with stars, that they below 
 Would grow inured to light, and come at last 735 
 To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows. 
 
 707. Budge, fwTved.. 
 719. Htitcht, concealtU, or kept as in a coflfer. 
 
COMUS. 419 
 
 List Lady, be not coy, and be not cozen'd 
 
 Witli that same vaunted name Virginity. 
 
 Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, 
 
 But must be current, and the good thereof f-lO 
 
 Consists in mutual and partaken bliss. 
 
 Unsavoury in th' enjoyment of itself; 
 
 If you let slip time, like a neglected rose 
 
 It withers on the stalk with lang-uish'd head. 
 
 Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shewn 745 
 
 In courts, at 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 complexions 
 
 And cheeks of soi-ry grain will serve to ply 750 
 
 The sampler, and to tease the housewife's wool. 
 
 What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that. 
 
 Love-darting eyes, or tiesses like the Morn? 
 
 There was another meaning in these gifts ; 754 
 
 Think what, and be advised, you are but young yet. 
 
 La. I had not thought to have unlock'd my lips 
 In this uuhaWow'd air, but that this juggler 
 Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes 
 Obtruding fal^e rules prank'd in Reason's garb. 
 I hate when Vice can bolt her arguments, 760 
 
 Aiid Virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 
 Impostor, do not charge most innocent Nature 
 As if she would her children should be riotous 
 With her abundance ; she, good catewess^ 
 Means her provision only to the good, 705 
 
 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 770 
 
 Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, 
 Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed 
 In unsuperduous even proportion. 
 And she no whit encumber'd with her store : 
 And then the Giver would be better thank'd, 775 
 His praise due paid ; for swinish Gluttony 
 
 751. To tease ; in its orig-inal sense, and like the Latin carpere, 
 to comb or prepare for spinning-. 
 
 760. Can bolt, dart or shoot forth. 
 
423 
 
 COMUS 
 
 Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidst his g-orgeous feast. 
 
 But with besotted base ingratitude 
 
 Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on ? 
 
 Or have I said enough ? To him that dares 780 
 
 Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words 
 
 Ag-ainst 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, 785 
 
 That must be utter'd to unfold the sage 
 
 And serious doctrine of Virg-inity, 
 
 And thou art worthy, that thou should'st not know 
 
 More happiness than this thy present lot. 
 
 Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 790 
 
 That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence. 
 
 Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced ; 
 
 Yet should I try, the uncontrolled worth 
 
 Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits 
 
 To such a flame of sacred vehemence, 795 
 
 That dumb things would be moved to sympathize. 
 
 And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and 
 
 Till all thy magic structures, rear'd so high, [shake, 
 
 Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head. 
 
 Com. She fables not, I feel that I do fear 800 
 
 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 Saturn's crew. I must dissemble, 805 
 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 : 810 
 
 But this will cure all straight, one sip of this 
 Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight 
 Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste. — 
 
 The Brothers rush in with swords drawn, wrest his 
 glass out of his hand, and break it against the 
 ground ; his rout make sign of resistance, but are 
 all driveii in ; the attendant Spirit comes in, 
 
 Spi. What, have you let the false enchanter 'scape ? 
 
COML'S. 421 
 
 O ye mistook, ye should have snatch'd his wand 
 And bound him fast : without his rod reversed, 8i0 
 And backward mutters of dissevering power, 
 We cannot free the Lady that sits here 
 In stony fetters fix'd, and motionless : 
 Yet stay, be not disturb'd ; novv- I bethink me, S20 
 Some other means I have which may be used. 
 Which once of Meliboeus old 1 learnt, 
 The soothest shepherd that e'er piped on plains. 
 
 There is a gentle nympli not far fi-om hence, 824 
 That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn 
 Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure ; [stream. 
 
 Whilome she was the daughter of Locrine, 
 That had the sceptre from his father Brute. 
 She, guiltless damsel, fl3ing the mad pui-suit 
 Of her enraged stepdame Guendolen, 830 
 
 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 pearled wrists and took her in. 
 Bearing: her straight to aged Nereus' hall, 835 
 
 Who, piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head. 
 And gave her to his daughters to imbathe 
 In nectar'd lavers strow'd with asphcdil, 
 And through the porch and inlet of each sense 
 Dropt in ambrosial oils till she revived, 840 
 
 And underwent a quick immortal change, 
 IMade 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 845 
 
 That the shrewd meddling elfe delights to make, 
 Which she with precious vial'd liquors heals; 
 For which the shepherds, at their festivals, 
 Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays. 
 And throw sweet garland vrreaths into her stream 
 Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils. 851 
 
 And, as the old swain said, she can unlock 
 The clasping charm, and thaw the uumming spell, 
 
 S26. The story of Sabrina is related at full in the first book of 
 Milton's History of England. See also Fae. Qu. B. 2. Can. 10. 
 St. 17. 
 
 846. The meddling elfe is Robin Good fellow, or Puck, the well- 
 known frolicsome fairy. 
 
422 COMUS. 
 
 If she be right invoked in warbled song', 
 
 For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 855 
 
 To aid a virgin, such as was herself. 
 
 In hard besetting need ; this will I try, 
 
 A.nd add the power of some adjuring verse. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Sabrina fair, 
 
 Listen where thou art sitting 800 
 
 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, SC5 
 
 Listen and save. 
 Listen, and appear to us 
 In name of great Oceanus, 
 By th' earth-shaking Neptune's mace. 
 And Tethys' grave majestic pace, 870 
 
 By hoary Nereus' wriiikled look. 
 And the Carpathian wizard's hook, 
 By scaly Triton's winding shell, 
 And old sooth-saying Glaucus' spell. 
 By Leucothea's lovely hands, 875 
 
 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. 
 And fair Ligea's golden comb, 880 
 
 Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks. 
 Sleeking her soft alluring locks, 
 By all the nymphs that nightly dance 
 Upon thy streams with wily glance. 
 Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 885 
 
 From thy coral-paven bed. 
 And bridle in thy headlong wave. 
 Till thou our summons answer'd have. 
 Listen and save. 
 
 872. The Carpathian ivizard ; Proteus, who had a cave at Car- 
 pathus, an island in the Mediterranean. 
 
 879. Parthenope and Ligca were two sirens; the former had, it 
 is said, a tomb at Naples; the latter is here introduced according 
 to the usual representations of mermaids. 
 
 889. The almost unparalleled beauty of this and the following 
 passajce, the variety of epithets and imas^es, the rapidity of the 
 verse, sparkling' and g-leaming- with the brightest sunshine o/ 
 poetry, are a feast of roses to the imagination. ' 
 
COMUS. 42:5 
 
 Sabrina rises j attended by water nymphs, and sings. 
 By the rxishy-fringed bank, 890 
 
 Where g-rows the willow and the osier dank. 
 
 My sliding- chariot stays, 
 Thick set with agate, and the azure sheen 
 Of turkois blue, and emerald g^reen. 
 
 That in the channel strays ; 895 
 
 Whilst fi'om off the waters fleet 
 Thus I set my priatless feet 
 O'er the cowslip's velvet head, 
 
 That bends not as I tread ; 
 Gentle Swain, at thy request 900 
 
 I am here. 
 Spi. Goddess dear, 
 We implore thy powerful hand 
 To undo the charmed band 
 
 Of true Virgin here distress'd, 905 
 
 Through the force and through the wile 
 Of unblest enchanter vile. 
 
 Sab. Shepherd, 'tis my office best 
 To help ensnared chastity : 
 
 Brightest Lady, look on me ; 910 
 
 Thus I sprinkle en thy breast 
 Drops that from my fountain pure 
 I have kept of precious cure, 
 Thrice upon thy fingers' tip, 
 
 Thrice upon thy rubied lip ; 915 
 
 Next this marble venom'd seat, 
 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 920 
 
 To wait in Amphitrite's bower. 
 
 Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat. 
 
 Spi. Virgin, daughter of Locrine, 
 
 Sprung from old Anchises' line, 
 
 May thy brimmed waves for this 
 
 Their full tribute never miss 925 
 
 From a thousand petty rills. 
 
 That tumble down the snowy hills : 
 
 923. Locrine was the son of Brutus, who was immediateiy 
 descended from Anchises. 
 
124 COMUS. 
 
 Summer droiwht, or singed air, 
 
 Never scorch thy tresses fair, 
 
 Nor wet October's torrent flood 930 
 
 Thy molten crystal till with mud: 
 
 May thy biUovs roll ashore 
 
 The beryl, and the golden oi'e ; 
 
 May thy lofty head be crown'd 
 
 With many a tower and terras round, 935 
 
 A.nd here and there thy banks upon 
 
 With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 
 
 Come, Lady, while Heav'n lends us grace. 
 Let us fly this cursed place. 
 
 Lest the Sorcerer us entice 910 
 
 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, 915 
 
 And not many fui'longs thence 
 Is your father's residence. 
 Where this night are met in state 
 Many a friend to gratulate 
 
 His wish'd presence, and beside 950 
 
 All the swains that near abide 
 With j Igs and rural dance resort ; 
 We shall catch them at their sport, 
 And our sudden coming there 
 Will double all their mirth and cheer ; 9^."^ 
 
 Come, let us haste, the stars grow high. 
 But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky. 
 
 7'he scene changes, presenting Ludloiv town and the 
 Presidents castle ; then come iit country dancers, 
 after them the attendant Spirit, with the tivo 
 Brothers and the Lady. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Spi. Back, Shepherds, back; enough your play 
 Till next sun-shine holiday. 
 
 Here be without duck or nod 960 
 
 Other trippings to be trod 
 Of lighter toes, and such court guise 
 As Mercury did first devise 
 
 936. Upon , crown'd, understood from line 934. 
 
COMUS. 425 
 
 With the mincing Dryades 
 
 On the lawns, and on the leas. 965 
 
 This second song presents them to their Father 
 and Mother. 
 Nohle Lord, and Lady bright, 
 I have brought ye new delight, 
 Here behold so goodly g-rown 
 Three fair branches of your own ; 
 Heav'n hath timely tried their youth, 970 
 
 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. 975 
 
 The dances ended, the Spirit epilognizes. 
 
 Spi. To the ocean now I liy. 
 And those happy climes that lie 
 Where Day never shuts his eye, 
 Up in the broad fields of the sky • 
 There I suck the liquid air 080 
 
 All amidst the g-ardens fair 
 Of Hesperus, and his daughters three 
 That sin<^ about the g-olden ti'ee ; 
 Along' the crisped shades and (jowers 
 Revels the spruce and jocund Spring*, 9S5 
 
 The Graces, and the rosy-bosom'd Hours, 
 Thither all their bounties bring" ; 
 There eternal Summer dwells. 
 And west-winds with musky wing- 
 About the cedar'd alleys fling- 990 
 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 shew, 995 
 And drenches with Elysian dew 
 (List, mortals, if your ears be true) 
 Beds of hyacinth and roses, 
 Where young Adonis oft reposes, 
 
 976. This farewell of the spirit is in close imitation of Ariel's 
 
 eonsT in the Teiiipest, Act 5. So. 3. 
 
 '895. Purjicd, embroidered. 
 
426 L'ALLEGRO. 
 
 Waxing well of his deep wound 1000 
 
 In slumber soft, and on the ground 
 
 Sadly sits th' Assyrian queen ; 
 
 But far above in spangled sheen 
 
 Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced. 
 
 Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced, 1005 
 
 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, 1010 
 
 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 low doth bend, 1015 
 And from thence can soar as soon 
 To the corners of the moon. 
 
 Mortals that would follow me, 
 Love Virtue ; she alone is free, 
 She can teach ye how to climb 1020 
 
 Higher than the sphery chime ; 
 Or, if Virtue feeble were, 
 Heav'n itself would stoop to her. 
 
 1002, r/t' Assyrian queen ; Venus, so called because 
 
 first worshipped by the Assyrians. 
 
 There is a moral in this poem as sweetly and purely delicate 
 
 as the verse is exquisite for its lovely images and melody. !t was 
 
 performed as a drama at Ludlow Castle, in 1634, before the Earl 
 
 of iiridgewater, President of Wales, and was printed in 1637. 
 
 L'ALLEGRO. 
 
 Hence, loathed Melancholy, 
 
 Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born. 
 In Stygian cave forlorn, [unholy* 
 
 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights 
 
 This celebrated little descriptive poem and its companion, have 
 preserved their distinct ori<^inality amid tlie crowii of similar 
 compositions with which they are snrroundcd. They owe boti 
 their excellence and their popularity to the domestic character of 
 their imagery, and to their direct appeal to the emotions whicli 
 belons? to Uie enjoyment of external nature. In o-lher poems of 
 the same kind, the sentiments introduced are frequently those of 
 # tiie writer only, and no' those which must, by the most general 
 
L'ALLEGRO. 427 
 
 Find out some uncouth cell, 5 
 
 Where brooding- Darkness spreads his jealous 
 
 And the night raven siug-s ; [wings^ 
 
 There under ebon shades and low-brow'd rocks, 
 
 As ragged as thy locks, 
 
 In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 10 
 
 But come, thou Goddess fair and free, 
 
 In Heav'n yclep'd Euphrosyne, 
 
 And by men, heart-easing" Mirth, 
 
 Whom lovely Venus at a birth 
 
 With two sister Graces more 15 
 
 To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore ; 
 
 Or whether (as some sages sing) 
 
 The frolic wind that breathes the spring, 
 
 Zephyr, with Aurora playing. 
 
 As he met her once a-Maying, 20 
 
 There on beds of violets blue. 
 
 And fresh-blown I'oses wash'd in dew, 
 
 Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair. 
 
 So buxom, blithe, and debonair. 
 
 Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee 25 
 
 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 ; SO 
 
 Sport that wrinkled Care derides. 
 
 And Laughter holding both his sides. 
 
 Come, and trip it as you go 
 
 On the light fantastic toe, 
 
 ind in thy right hand lead with thee 3b 
 
 The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty; 
 , And, if I give thee honour due. 
 
 laws of human thoug'ht and feeling-, belon.q: to both the author and 
 tlie reader. Sensations of ^-ladnessor nielanclioly may be infinite- 
 ly varied, and in a poem of sentiment or character should bear tlie 
 deep impress of personality ; but when nature is described in her 
 cheerful or sombre aspect, the connexion between the object and 
 the emotion .should be certain and instantaneous. If the reader 
 compare these poenss with other descriptive compositions, and the 
 feelings with which he reads them, he will better perceive the 
 peculi;vr excellence of the former. 
 
 IJAHegro, che cheerful man, and II Penseroso, the melancholy 
 man, both Italian terms, and well adapted to the author's purpose. 
 For the mythology of the poems, Milton is his own authority. 
 
428 "^ ALLEGRO. 
 
 Mirth, admit me of thy crew 
 
 To live with her, and live with thee 
 
 In unreproved pleasures free ; ^ 
 
 To hear the lark beg-in his flight. 
 
 And singing- startle the dull Nig-ht, 
 
 From his watch-tower in the skies, 
 
 Till the dappled Dawn doth rise ; 
 
 Then to come in spite of Sorrov/, 45 
 
 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, 50 
 
 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, 5-5 
 
 Through the high wood echoing- shrill: 
 
 Some time walking- not unseen 
 
 By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green 
 
 Right against the eastern gate, 
 
 Where the great sun begins his state, 60 
 
 Robed in flames, and amber light, 
 
 The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; 
 
 While the ploughman near at hand 
 
 Whistles o'er the furrow'd land. 
 
 And the milkmaid singeth blithe, 65 
 
 And the mower whets his scythe, 
 
 And every shepherd tells his tale 
 
 Under the hawthorn in the dale. 
 
 Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures 
 
 Whilst the landskip round it measures, 70 
 
 Russet lawns and fallows grey, 
 
 Where the nibbling flocks do stray. 
 
 Mountains on whose barren breast 
 
 The labouring clouds do often rest. 
 
 Meadows trim with daisies pied, 75 
 
 Shallow brooks and rivers wide. 
 
 Towers and battlements it sees 
 
 Bosom'dhigh in tufted trees, 
 
 Where perhaps some beauty lies. 
 
 The C ynosure of neighbouring eyes 80 
 
L'ALLEGRO. 
 
 429 
 
 Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes. 
 
 
 From betwixt two aged oaks. 
 
 
 Where Cory don and Thyrsis met. 
 
 
 Are at their savoury dinner set 
 
 
 Of herbs and other country messes. 
 
 85 
 
 Which the neat-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. 
 
 bO 
 
 Sometimes with secure delight 
 
 
 The upland hamlets will invite. 
 
 
 When the merry bells ring round. 
 
 
 And the jocund rebecs sound, 
 
 
 To many a youth and many a maid, 
 
 95 
 
 Dancing in the chequer'd shade ; 
 
 
 A.nd young and old come forth to play 
 
 
 On a sunshine holy-day, 
 
 
 Till the live-long day-light fail ; 
 
 
 Then to the spicy nut-brown ale. 
 
 JOO 
 
 With stories told of many a feat. 
 
 
 How faery Mab the junkets eat ; 
 
 
 She was pinch'd, and pull'd, sh said. 
 
 
 And he by friar's lantern led ; 
 
 
 Tells how the drudging goblin swet, 
 
 105 
 
 To earn his cream-bowl duly set. 
 
 
 When in one night, ere glimpse of morn. 
 
 
 His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn 
 
 
 That ten day-labourers could not end ; 
 
 
 Then lies him down the lubber fiend, 
 
 lie 
 
 And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length 
 
 
 Basks at the fire his hairy strength. 
 
 
 . And crop-full out of door he flings. 
 
 
 Ere the first cock his matin rings. 
 
 
 Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 
 
 115 
 
 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. 
 
 120 
 
 With store of ladies, whose bright eyes 
 
 
 Rain influence, and judge the prize 
 
 
 Of wit, or arms, while both contend 
 
 
430 IL PENSEROSO. 
 
 To win her grace whom all corauiend. 
 
 There let Hj'men oft appear 125 
 
 In saffron 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. 130 
 
 Then to the well-trod stage anon. 
 
 If Jonson's learned sock be on, 
 
 Or sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child, 
 
 Warble his native wood-notes wild. 
 
 And ever against eating' cares, 135 
 
 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 long drawn out, 140 
 
 With wanton heed, and giddy Gunning-, 
 The melting voice through mazes running 
 Untwisting all the chains that tie 
 The hidden soul of harmoiiy ; 
 
 That Orpheus' self may heave his head 145 
 
 From golden slumber on a bed 
 Of heap'd Klysian flowers, and hear 
 Such strains as would have won the ear 
 Of Pluto, to have quite set free 
 
 His half-regain'd Eurydice. 150 
 
 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 I 
 How little you bested. 
 
 Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys ! 
 
 1 . The idea of this poem is said to have been taken from a song 
 in a comedy by Fletcher, called 'The Nice Valor; or. Passionate 
 Madman.' Tliere is, indeed, a slight general resemblance in the 
 tvvo pieces ; but, even supposing an imitation so far as it goes, it is 
 not enough to affect J:he originality of 11 Penseroso. 
 
CoirLe,peiisTve iN'mi, cleYout and joLire, 
 SoJjer, steadfast, and demiice, 
 An. ni a rolje of darirest grain, 
 ZLowng -wJLli niajestic tnara. 
 
IL PENSEROSO. 431 
 
 Dwell ill some idle brain, 5 
 
 And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, 
 
 A.S tliick and numberless 
 
 As the gay motes that people the sun-beams; 
 
 Or likest hovering dreams 
 
 The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. 10 
 
 But hail, thou Goddess, sag*e and holy. 
 
 Hail divinest Melancholy, 
 
 Whose saintly visage is too bright 
 
 To hit the sense of human sight, 
 
 And therefore to our weaker view 15 
 
 O'eilaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue ; 
 
 Black, but such as in esteem 
 
 Prince Memnon's sister might beseem. 
 
 Or that starr'd Ethiop queen that strove 
 
 To set her beauties* praise above 20 
 
 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 25 
 
 ^^uch mixture was not held a stain) : 
 
 10 ft 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. 30 
 
 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, 35 
 
 Over thy decent shoulders drawn. 
 
 Come, but keep thy Avonted state. 
 
 With even step, and musing gait. 
 
 And looks commercing with the skies, 
 
 Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyesy^ 40 
 
 There, held in holy passion still. 
 
 Forget thyself to marble, till 
 
 With a sad leaden downward cast 
 
 I'hou fix them on the earth as fast : 
 
 19. Ethiop queen; Cassiope, who was so beautiful that the 
 Nereids determined on her destruction. She was carried, it ia 
 said, to the skies, and made a star of: hence the epithet. 
 
 2 P 
 
432 IL PENSEROSO. 
 
 And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet 4S 
 
 Spare Fast, that oft with Gods doth diet> 
 And hears the Muses in a ring- 
 Ay round about Jove's altar sing: 
 And add to these retired Leisure, 
 That in trim gardens takes his pleasure. 60 
 
 But first, and chiefest, with thee bring. 
 Him that yon^soars on golden wing, :- 
 Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne. 
 The Cherub Contemplation; 
 
 And the mute Silence hist along, 56 
 
 '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 : 60 
 
 Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, 
 Most musical, most melancholy ! ; 
 Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among 
 I woo to hear thy even -song ; 
 
 And missing- thee, I walk unseen 05 
 
 On the dry smooth-shaven green, 
 To behold the wandering moon. 
 Riding near her highest noon. 
 Like one that had been led astray 
 Through the Heav'n's wide pathless way ; 70 
 
 And oft, as if her head she bow'd* 
 Stooping through a fleecy cloud. V 
 Oft, on a plat of rising ground, ' 
 I hear the far-off curfeu sound. 
 
 Over some wide-water'd shore, 76 
 
 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, 80 
 
 Far from all resort of mirth, 
 Save the ci-icket on the hearth. 
 Or the belman's drowsy charm. 
 To bless the doors from nightly harm : 
 
 56. The cheerful character ot the former poem rendered it 
 necessary to commence with a description of morning sights an 
 uleasures ; in 'his the poet properly begins with evening)?. 
 

 XL PENSEROSO. 43B 
 
 T let my lamp, at Tnictnight hour., )( 85 
 
 Be seen in some high lonely tower/ ' 
 Where I may oft out-watch the Bear, 
 With thrice great Hermes, or unsphere 
 The spirit of Plato to unfold 
 
 What worlds, or what vast reg-ious, hold 90 
 
 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. 
 Whose power hath a true consent 95 
 
 With planet, or with element. 
 Sometime let g-orgeous Tragedy 
 In scepter'd pall come sweeping T)y, 
 Presenting Thebes', or Pelop's line. 
 Or the tale of Troy divine, i09 
 
 Or what (though rare) of later age 
 Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. 
 
 But, O sad Virgin, that thy power 
 Might raise Musaeus from his bower ; 
 Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing 105 
 
 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, HO 
 
 Of Camball, and of Algarsife, 
 And who had Canace to wile. 
 That own'd the virtuous ring and glass, 
 And of the wondrous horse of brass. 
 On which the Tartar king did ride; 115 
 
 And if aught else great bards beside 
 In sage and solemn tunes have sung. 
 Of turneys and of trophies hung, 
 Of forests and enchantments drear, 
 Where more is meant than meets the ear. 120 
 
 88. Hermes Trismeg^islns. The great Es^yptiiin philosopher 
 who flourished, it is supposed, near the time of Moses. 
 
 99. The ancient tras^edians drew the subjects of their principal 
 
 dramas from the history of the kin^s of Thebes, &c. 
 
 104^ Mnseeus, a celebrated ancient poet. 
 
 109. An allusion toa tale which Chaucer left unfinished. Spenser 
 
 endeavoured to complete it. Fae. Ciu. B. 4. Can. 2. St. 32. 
 
 U 
 
434 
 
 IL PEiNSERUSO. 
 
 Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career, 
 Till civil-suited Morn appear. 
 Not trick'd and frounced as she was wont 
 With the Attic boy to hunt, 
 .-But kercheft in a comely cloud, 
 I^Vhile 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. 
 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 Avaters murmuring. 
 With such concert as they keep. 
 Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep : 
 And let some strange mysterious dream 
 Wave at his wings in aery stream 
 Of lively portraiture display'd. 
 Softly on my eye-lids laid, y 
 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 cloister's pale, 
 4nd love the high-embowed roof. 
 With antique pillars massy proof. 
 ;And storied windows richly dightj 
 Casting a dim religious light. ' 
 There let the pealing organ blow. 
 To the full-voiced qiiire below 
 
 123 
 
 130 
 
 135 
 
 145 
 
 150 
 
 159 
 
 160 
 

 ARCADES. 
 In service high, and anthems clear, 
 
 
 435 
 
 
 As may with sweetness, through mine ear. 
 
 
 
 Dissolve me into extasies. 
 
 
 163 
 
 
 And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes. 
 
 , 
 
 
 
 And may at last my weary age 
 
 
 
 
 Find out the peaceful hermitage, 
 
 
 
 
 The hairy gown and mossy ceK, 
 
 
 
 
 Where I may sit and rightly spell 
 
 
 170 
 
 
 Of every star that Heav'n doth shew. 
 
 
 
 
 And every herb that sips the dew ; 
 
 
 
 
 Till old experience do attain 
 
 
 
 
 To something like prophetic strain. 
 
 
 
 
 These pleasures, Melancholy, give 
 
 
 175 
 
 
 And I with thee will choose to live. 
 
 
 
 
 ARCADES. 
 
 
 
 
 Part of an Entertainment* 'presented to the Countess 1 1 
 
 
 Dowager of Derby, at Ilarefield, by some 
 
 noble 
 
 y)er- 
 
 
 sons of her family, tvho appear on the scene i7i 
 
 pas- 
 
 
 toral habit, moving toward the seat of state, 
 
 tvitk 
 
 
 this song. 
 
 
 
 
 I. SONG. 
 
 
 
 
 Look Nymphs, and Shepherds look. 
 
 
 
 
 What sudden blaze of majesty 
 
 
 
 
 Is that which we from hence descry. 
 
 
 
 
 Too divine to be mistook I 
 
 
 
 
 This, this is she 
 
 
 5 
 
 
 To whom our vows and wishes bend ; 
 
 
 
 
 Here our solemn se?^rch hath end. 
 
 
 
 
 Fame, that, her high worth to raise. 
 
 
 
 
 Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse. 
 
 
 
 
 We may justly now accuse 
 
 
 10 
 
 
 Of detraction from her praise ; 
 
 
 
 
 Less than half w^e find exprest, 
 
 
 
 
 Envy bid conceal the rest. 
 
 
 
 
 * This frag-mentis called a mask in Milton's manuscript, 
 
 andie 
 
 
 is supposed to have been completed by other hands. 
 
 There 
 
 was a 
 
 
 connexion by marriag-e between the Countess of Derby a 
 
 jd the 
 
 
 Earl of Bridg-ewater, before whom Conius was performed. 
 
 The 
 
 
 Arcades in a chronological arrangement ou^ht to 
 
 precede tJie 1| 
 
 
 latter. 
 
 
 
436 ARCADES. 
 
 Mark what radiant state she spreads, 
 lu circle rovmd her shining- throne, 15 
 
 Shooting- her beams like silver threads; 
 Thia, this is she alone, 
 
 Sitting like a Goddess bright, 
 
 In the centre of her light. 
 
 Might she the wise Latona be, 20 
 
 Or the tower'd Cybele, 
 
 Mother of a hundred gods ; 
 
 Juno dares not give her odds ; 
 
 Who hath thought this clime had held 
 
 A deity so unparalleled 1 25 
 
 -4.5 they come forward the Genius of the wood appears 
 and turning towards thenit speaks. 
 
 Gen. Staj^, gentle Swains, for tho' 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 30 
 
 Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse ; 
 And ye, the breathing roses of the wood, 
 \Fair silver-buskin'd Nymphsjas great and good, 
 I know this quest of yours, and free intent, 
 Was all in honour and devotion meant 35 
 
 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 40 
 
 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"! am the power 
 Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower 45 
 
 To nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove 
 With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove. 
 And all my plants I save fi'om nightly ill 
 Of noisome winds, and blasting vapours chill: 
 
 30. Alpheus, a river of Arcadia, which runs for some way under 
 tlie sea, and rises again with the fountain Arethuse^ near Syra- 
 cuse in Sicily. 
 
ARCADES. 437 
 
 And from the boughs brush off the eril dew, 59 
 
 And he«*I the harms of thwarting thunder blue. 
 Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites. 
 Or hurtful worm with canker'd venom bites. 
 When Evening grey doth rise, I fetch my round 
 Over the mount, and j>ll this hallow'd ground ; 55 
 And early ere the odorous breath of Morn 
 Awakes the slumb'ring leaves, or tassel'd horn 
 Shakes the high thicket, ha&te I all about. 
 Number my ranks, and visit every sprout 
 With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless ; 
 But else i-u deep of night, when drowsiness 61 
 
 Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then listen I 
 To the celestial Sirens' harmony. 
 That sit upon the nine infolded spheres. 
 And sing to those that hold the vital shears, 65 
 
 And turn the adamantine ?pindle 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, 70 
 
 And the low world in measured 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, 75 
 
 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 shew, 
 I will assay, her worth to celebrate, 80 
 
 And so attend ye toward her glittering state ; 
 Where ye may all that are of nobie stem 
 Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture's hem. 
 
 0*e.r the smooth enamell'd green. 
 
 Where no print of step hath been, 83 
 
 Follow me as I sing. 
 
 And touch the warbled strings 
 Under the shady Koof 
 Of branching elm star-proof. 
 
438 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Follow me, Qn 
 
 I will bring' you where she sits, 
 Clad in splendour as befits 
 
 Her deity. 
 Such a rural queen 
 All Arcadia hath not seen. 99 
 
 III. SONG. 
 
 Nymphs and Shepherds dance no more 
 
 By sandy Ladon's lilied banks, 
 On old Lycaeus or Cyllene hoar 
 
 Trip no more in twilight ranks. 
 Though Erymanth your loss deplore, 100 
 
 A better soil shall give ye thanks. 
 From the stony Maenalus 
 Bring your flocks, and live with us. 
 Here ye shall have greater grace. 
 To serve the Lady of this place. 105 
 
 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 heivails a lear^ied Friend, nnfortU' 
 nately drowned in hia passage from Chester, on the Irish seas, 
 1637, a7id by occasion fore tels 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, 
 1 come to pluck your berries harsh and crude. 
 And with forced fingers rude 
 
 97. .Ladon, another beautiful river in Arcadia. — Lycisus, &c. 
 are celebrated mountains in the same country. 
 
 * This beautiful little poem, which partakes as much of the 
 character of the alleg-ory as of the pastoral, was written in me- 
 morial of Edward Kins', son of Sir John King, Secretary for 
 Ireland, who perished by shipwreck in a voyage to DubliVi, in 
 the 25th year of his ag-e. He was the fellow-colleg-ian and most 
 intimate friend of the poet, who at that lime was destined, as well 
 as himself, for holy orders. There are several allusions to the 
 latte'" circumstance in the monody. 
 
LYCIDAS. 439 
 
 Shatter your leases before the mellowing year. 5 
 
 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear. 
 
 Compels me to disturb your season due : 
 
 For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime. 
 
 Young Lycidas, and bath not left his peer : 
 
 Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew 10 
 
 Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 
 
 He must not float upon his watery bier 
 
 Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, 
 
 Without the meed of some melodious tear. 
 
 Begin then. Sisters of the Sacred Well, 15 
 
 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 destined urn, 20 
 
 And as he passes turn, 
 And bid fair peace be to my ssble shroud : 
 ' For we were nursed upon the self-same hill. 
 Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. 
 
 Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd 25 
 
 Under the opening eye-lids of the morn,«' 
 We drove a-field, and both together heard 
 What time the grey-fly winds her sultry horn, 
 Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night. 
 Oft till the star that rose at evening bright, 30 
 
 Towards Heaven's descent had sloped his westering 
 
 wheel. 
 Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, 
 j'Temper'd to the oaten flute, 
 
 \Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel 
 From the glad sound would not be absent long, 35 
 And old Damaetas loved to hear our song. 
 / But O the heavy change, now thou art gone| 
 iNow thou art gone, and never must return ! - ' 
 "^hee, Shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves, 
 With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown. 
 And all their echoes, mourn ; 41 
 
 The willows, and the hazel copses green, 
 Shall now no more be seen, 
 
 15. Sacred Well ; the fountain Hippocrene, sacred to the 
 muses, which springs from mount Helicon, on vhich there wa* 
 an altar to Jupiter. 
 
 19. Muse^ a raetonomy for poet, see Una 21. , 
 
440 LYCIDAS. 
 
 ( Fanning' their joyous leaves to thy soft lays J 
 "As killing as the canker to the rose, ""^ 45 
 
 Or taint-worm to the weanling- herds that graze, 
 Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear. 
 When first the white-thorn blows ;/ 
 Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear. 
 Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless 
 deep 50 
 
 Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas ? 
 For neither were ye playing on the steep, 
 Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, 
 I Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, 
 VNor yet where Deva spreads her wizard streajn: 53 
 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, CO 
 
 When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, 
 His gory visage down the stream was sent, 
 Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shoi'e 1 
 I Alas J what boots it with incessant care 
 To tend the homely, slighted shepherd's trade, 65 
 And strictly meditate the thankless Muse % 
 Were it not better done, as others use. 
 To sport with Amaryllis in the shade. 
 Or with the tangles of Nesera's hair 1 
 Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 70 
 (That last infirmity of noble minds; 
 To scorn delights, and live laborious days ; 
 But the fair guerdon when we hope to find. 
 And think to burst out into sudden blaze. 
 Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, 75 
 And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise, 
 Phoebus reply'd, and touch'd my trembling ears ; 
 (Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil. 
 Nor in the glistering foil 
 
 Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies; 80 
 But liyes and spreads aloft by those pure eyes 
 
 52. The steep ; supposed to be Kerigy Drudion, a druid sta- 
 tion in Denbighshire.- -iVfoJia ; the isle of Anglesey. — Deva; the 
 river Dee. 
 
 66. Meditate the Muse ; a classical phrase ; thus Virg-il, EcL 
 1. 2. Musam Meditaiis. 
 
LYCIDAS. 441 
 
 And perfect witness of all-judging Jove ; 
 
 As he pronounces lastly on each deed, . 
 
 Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed. )( 
 
 O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd flood, 85 
 .Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds. 
 That strain I heard was of a higher mood : 
 But now my oat proceeds, 
 And listens to the herald of the sea 
 That came in Neptune's plea ; 90 
 
 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, 95 
 
 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 100 
 
 Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, 
 That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. 
 ' Next Camus, reverend sii*e, went footing slow, 
 i His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge. 
 Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge, 105 
 Like to that sanguine flower. Inscribed with woe. 
 Ah ! 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 110 
 
 (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain). 
 He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake : 
 How well could I have spared for thee, young sw?in. 
 Enow of such as for their bellies' sake 
 Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold? 115 
 
 Of other care they little reck'ning make. 
 Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast. 
 And shove away the worthy bidden guest ; [hold 
 Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to 
 A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least 
 That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs ! 121 
 
 86. Mincius; a river near Manlua, where Virgil was born 
 89. T/ie herald; Trilon. — Hippotades ; yEolus, the son of Hlp- 
 potas. — Panope; a sea nyinph. — Camus; the Cani. 
 109. The pilot; Saint Peter. 
 U2 
 
442 LYCIDAS. 
 
 What reclcs it them 1 v/hat need they ? they are sped ; 
 And when they list, theii- lean and flashy song-s 
 Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ; 
 The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, 125 
 
 But swoll'n with wind, and the rank mist they draw, 
 Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : 
 Besides v/hat the grim wolf with privy paw 
 Daily devours apace, and nothing said ; 
 But that two-handed engine at the door, 130 
 
 Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. 
 jf 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. 135 
 Ye Valleys low, where the mild whispers use 
 Of shades, and wanton winds, and gaishing brooks. 
 On whose fresh lap the swai't star sparely looks. 
 Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes. 
 That on the green turf suck the honied showers, 140 
 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 fi'eak'd with jet. 
 The glowing violet, 145 
 
 The musk-rose, and the well-attired 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, 150 
 
 To strow the la\ireat hearse where Lycid lies. ]/ 
 For so to intei-pose a little ease. 
 Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. 
 Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas 
 Wash far aAvay, where'er thy bones are hurl'd, 155 
 Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, 
 Where thou perhaps und'er the whelming tide 
 Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world ; 
 Or whether thou to our moist vows denied, 
 
 124. Scrannel ; harsh. 
 128. k\\ allusion, it is probable, to lue supposed attempts at thi« 
 
 geriod to introduce a^aln the superstitious obsenances ol the 
 ■Oman church, which Archbishop Laud, it was thought, favoured, 
 142. Rathe ; t?arly. 
 
LYC.i DAb. 443 
 
 Sleep'st by the fable of Beilerus old, 160 
 
 Where the great vision of the guarded mount 
 Loots toward Namancos and Bayona's hold ; 
 Look homeward Angel nov/, and melt v/ith ruth : 
 And, O ye Dolphins, waft the hapless youth. 
 
 Weep no more, woful Shepherds, weep no more. 
 For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, ICO 
 
 Sunk though he be beneath the v/atery floor; 
 /So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, 
 And yet anon repairs his dj-oopina: head. 
 And tricks his beams, and with new-spang:led ore 170 
 Flames in thjg.-forehead of the morning sky ; / 
 So Lycidas sunk low, T)ut moaiifeS liigh, 
 f Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves, 
 iWhere, other groves and other streams along, 
 With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 1?5 
 
 And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 
 ,In the blest kingdoms meek of Joy and Lovfj. 
 There entertain him all the saints above. 
 In solemn troops and sweet societies, 
 That sing, and singing in their glory move, 180 
 
 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. 185 
 
 ^Thus sang the uncouth swain to th' oaks and rills, 
 j -^hile the still morn v/ent out with sandals grey, ) 
 \ I^e touch'd the tender stops cf various quills, "^"''^ 
 i With eag'er thought warbling his Doric lay : 
 i/'And now the sun had stretch'd out all the liiEs, 190 
 \ And. now was dropt into the western bay : 
 At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue : 
 To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new. 
 
 160. Beilerus; the Land's Ent, It is supposed, so called from 
 an old Cornish giant. — Namancos and Bayona , fortreeses on ihe 
 coast of Spain. 
 
POEMS 
 
 ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 
 
 I. 
 
 (Anno 5:tatis 17.) 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT, 
 DYING OF A COUGH. 
 
 O FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted, 
 boft 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 kill'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal bliss. 
 
 For since grim Aquilo his charioteer 
 
 By boisterous rape th' Athenian damsel got, 
 
 He thought it touch'd his deity full near, B 
 
 If likewise he some fair one wedded not, 
 
 Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot 
 
 Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, [held 
 Which 'mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach wa> 
 
 So mounting up in icj'-pearled car 1* 
 
 Through middle empire of the freezing air 
 He wander'd long, till thee he spy'd from far: 
 There ended was his quest, there ceased his care. 
 Down he descended from his snow-soft chair. 
 
 But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace 24 
 Unhoused thy Tirgin soul from her fair hiding-place. 
 
 Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate ; 
 
 For so Apollo, with unweeting hand, 
 
 Whilume did slay his dearly loved mate. 
 
 Young Hyacinth born on Eurota's strand, 25 
 
 Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land ; 
 
 23. Apollo, it is said by the poefc?, slew Hyacinth while plaving 
 at quoits, aud aften^-ards' changed him into the flower bearing hjs 
 
POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 445 
 
 But then transform'd him to a purple ilower : ^ 
 Alack, that so to change thee Winter had no power. 
 
 Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead. 
 Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, 30 
 Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed. 
 Hid from the world in a low delved tomb; 
 Could Heav'n for pity thee so strictly doom? 
 Oh no I for something- in thy face did shine 
 Above mortality, that shew'd thou wast divine. 35 
 
 Resolve me then, oh Soul, most surely blest 
 (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 there were) 40 
 
 O say me true, if thou wert mortal wight, [ilight. 
 And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy 
 
 Wert thou some star which from the ruin'd roof 
 Of shaked Olympus by mischance did'st fall ; 
 Which careful Jove in Nature's true behoof 45 
 
 Took up and in fit place did reinstall ? 
 Or did of late Earth's sons besiege the wall 
 
 Or sheeny Heav'n, and thou some goddess lied 
 Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head ? 
 
 Or wert thou that just maid who once before 50 
 
 Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth. 
 And cam'st again to visit us once more 1 
 Or wert thou that sweet smiling youth 1 
 Or that crown'd matron sage white-robed Truth 1 54 
 Or any other of that heav'nly brood [good ? 
 
 Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some 
 
 Or wert thou of the golden-winged host. 
 Who having clad thyself in human weed, 
 
 44. Shaked Olympus; in allusion to the virar of the giants who 
 besieg-ed Jupiter. 
 
 50. That jnst maid ; Astrea, the goddess of justice. 
 
 53. r am inclined to think that Truth only is meant both in this 
 and in the foUovring ex^-ression, and that it is, therefore, not ne- 
 cessary to introduce, as the commentators have done, mercy or 
 youth, in this line. Truth, for its purity, clear and unsoiled 
 beauty, has all the characteristics of xiveet smilins: youth : tor its 
 gravUy and unchana-ing- steadiness it has the marks of matronljf 
 g-race. The poet might hence very beautifully express a doubt as 
 to v/hether he was to "call it a youth or a matron. 
 
446 POEMS ON 
 
 To Earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, 
 
 And after short abode fly back with speed, 00 
 
 As if to shew what creatures HeaVn doth breed. 
 
 Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire 
 To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire? 
 
 But oh, why didst thou not stay here below 
 
 To bless us with thy Heav'n-loved innocence, 65 
 
 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 office where thouai*t. 
 
 Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child, 71 
 
 Her false imagined loss cease to lament. 
 
 And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild ; 
 
 Think what a present thou to God has sent. 
 
 And render him with patience what he lent ; 75 
 
 This if thou do, he will an offspring give 
 That till the world's last end shall make thy name 
 to live. 
 
 II. 
 CAnno^tatisig.) 
 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-uupronounced, slide through my infant-lips. 
 
 Driving dumb Silence from the portal door, 5 
 
 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 hence can come unto thee, 
 
 1 know my tongue but little grace can do thee: 10 
 
 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 dantiest dishes shall be served up last. 
 
 68. These verses were written while there was a ^rf 8»l 
 plague raging. 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 447 
 
 I pray thee then deny me not thy aid 15 
 
 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-fangied toys, and trimming slight 
 
 Which takes our late fantastics with delight, 20 
 
 But cull those richest robes, and gay'st attire 
 
 Which deepest spirits and choicest Avits 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 25 
 
 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 choose, 
 
 Thy service in some graver subject use, 30 
 
 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 blissful deity 35 
 
 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, 41 
 
 And hills of snow and lofts of piled thunder. 
 
 May tell at length how green-eyed Neptune raves. 
 
 In Heav'n's defiance must'ring all his waves ; 
 
 Then sing of secret things that came to pass 45 
 
 When beldam Nature in her cradle was ; 
 
 And last of kings, and queens, and heroes old. 
 
 Such as the v/ise Demodocus once told 
 
 In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast. 
 
 While sad Ulysses' soul and all the rest 50 
 
 Are held with his melodious harmony 
 
 In willing chains and sweet captivity. 
 
 48. Demodocus ; a musician and poet mentioned in the eighth 
 book of the Odyssey, in which kin^ Alcinous is represented as 
 entertaining' Ulysses. The reader, if he be curious to understand 
 the scope of what follows, must have reference to some book of 
 logic. 
 
 2G 
 
443 POEMS ON 
 
 But fie, my wand'rmg" Muse, how thou dost stray! 
 
 Expectance calls thee now another way ; 
 
 Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent 55 
 
 To keep in compass of thy predicament : 
 
 Then quick about thy purposed business come. 
 
 That to the next I may resign my room. 
 
 Then Ens is represented as father of the Predica- 
 ments, his ten sons, whereof the eldest stood for 
 Substance with his canons, which Ens, thus speak- 
 ing, explains. 
 
 Good luck befriend thee, son ; for at thy birth 
 The faery ladies danced upon the hearth; 60 
 
 Tfcy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy 
 Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie. 
 And sweetly singing round about thy bed 
 Strow all their blessings on thy sleeping head. 
 She heard thera give thee this, that thou should'st still 
 From eyes of mortals walk invisible : 66 
 
 Yet there is something that doth force my fear. 
 For once it was my dismal bap to hear 
 A Sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age. 
 That far events full wisely could presage, 70 
 
 And in Time's long and dark prospective glass 
 Foresaw what future days 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, 75 
 
 Yet every one shall make him underling, 
 And those that cannot live from him asunder 
 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 ; 80 
 From others he shall stand in need of nothing. 
 Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing. 
 To find 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 85 
 
 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? 90 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 449 
 
 The next Quantity and Quality spake in prosCf then 
 Relation was called hy his name 
 Rivers arise ; whether thou be the son 
 Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphy Dun, 
 Or Trent, who like some earth-born giant spi'eads 
 His thirsty arms along- th' indented meads ; 
 Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath, 95 
 
 Or Severn swift, guilty of maidens' death ; 
 Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee, 
 Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee, 
 Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythian's name. 
 Or Medway smooth, or royal tower'd Thame. 100 
 [The rest was prose.'] 
 
 IIL 
 
 ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIViTY. 
 (Composed 1629.) 
 This is the month, and this the happy morn, 
 Wherein the Son of Heav'n'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, 5 
 
 That he our deadly forfeit should release. 
 And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. 
 
 That glorious form, that light unsuiferable. 
 And that far-beaming blaze of majesty. 
 Wherewith he Avont at Heav'n's high council-table 10 
 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. 
 
 Say, heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 15 
 
 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 wliile the Heav'n by the sun's team untrod, 
 
 Hath took no print of the approaching light, 20 
 And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons 
 bright ? 
 
 See how from far upon the eastern road 
 
 The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet: 
 
450 POEMS ON 
 
 O run, prevent them with thy humble ode. 
 
 And lay it lowly at his blessed feet ; 25 
 
 Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, 
 
 And join thy voice unto the angel quire, 
 From out his secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. 
 
 THE HYMN. 
 
 It was the winter wild. 
 
 While the Heav'n-born child 30 ' 
 
 All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies ; 
 Nature in awe to him 
 Had dofF'd her gaudy trim. 
 
 With her great Master so to sympathize : 
 It was no season then for her 35 
 
 To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. 
 
 Only with speeches fair 
 She woos the gentle air 
 
 To hide her guilty front with innocent snow. 
 And on ner naked shame, 40 
 
 Pollute with sinful blame. 
 
 The saintly veil of maiden white to threw. 
 Confounded, that her Maker's eyes 
 Should look so near upon her foul deformities. 
 
 But he, her fears to cease, 45 
 
 Sent down the meek-eyed Peace ; 
 
 She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding 
 Down through the turning sphere 
 His ready harbinger. 
 
 With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, 50 
 And, waving wide her myrtle wand. 
 She strikes a universal peace through sea and land. 
 
 No war, or battle's sound, 
 Was heard the world around : 
 
 The idle spear and shield were high up hung, 55 
 The hooked chariot stood, 
 Unstain'd with hostile blood, 
 
 The trumpet spake not to the armed throng 
 And kings sat still with awful eye. 
 As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by 
 
 28. Isaiah vi. 6, 7. 
 52. She strikes ; so the Latin, faedus ferire. 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 451 
 
 But peaceful was the night, Gl 
 
 Wherein the Prince of light 
 
 His reign of peace upon the earth began : 
 The winds with wonder whist 
 Smoothly the waters kiss'd, 65 
 
 Whisp'ring- new joys to the mild ocean. 
 Who now hath quite forgot to rave. 
 While birds of calm sit brooding- on the charmed wave. 
 
 The stars with deep amaze 
 
 Stand fix'd in steadfast ^aze, 70 
 
 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 glimmering orbs did glow, 75 
 
 Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. 
 
 And though the shady gloom 
 Kad given day her room. 
 
 The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, 
 And hid his head for shame, 80 
 
 As his inferior flame 
 
 The new enlighten'd world no more should need ; 
 He saw a greater sim appear [bear. 
 
 Than his bright throne, or burning axle-tree coiAld 
 
 The shepherds on the lawn, 85 
 
 Or ere the point of dawn. 
 
 Sat simply chatting in a rustic row ; 
 Full little thought they then 
 That the mighty Pan 
 
 Was kindly come to live with them below ; 90 
 
 ■Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep. 
 Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. 
 
 When such music sweet 
 
 Their hearts and ears did greet, 
 
 As never Avas by mortal finger strook, 95 
 
 Divinely warbled voice 
 Answering the stringed noise. 
 
 As all their souls in blissful rapture took : 
 The air such pleasure loth to lose, [close. 
 
 With thousand echoes still prolongs each heav'nly 
 
452 POEMS ON 
 
 Nature that heard such souiid, 101 
 
 BeDeath the hollow round 
 
 Of C^Tithia's seat, the aerj" re^on thrilling. 
 Now was almost won 
 To think her part was done, 105 
 
 And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; 
 She knew such harmony alone 
 Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union. 
 
 At last surrounds their sig-ht 
 
 A globe of circiilar light, 110 
 
 That with long teams the shame-faced night ar- 
 The helmed cherubim [raj-'d ; 
 
 And sworded seraphim, 
 
 Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd. 
 Harping in loud and solemn quire, 1 15 
 
 With ujiexpressive notes to Heaven's new-bom Heir. 
 
 Such music (as 'tis said) 
 Before was never made, 
 
 But when of old the sons of morning sung, 
 While the Creator great 120 
 
 His constellations set. 
 
 And the well-balanced world on hinges hung. 
 And cast the dark foundations deep. 
 And bid the welt'ring v/aves their oozy channel keep. 
 
 Ring out, ye crystal spheres, 125 
 
 Once bless our human ears 
 
 (If ye have power to touch our senses so). 
 And let ^^our silver chime 
 Move in melodious time, 
 
 And let the base of Heav'n's deep organ blow, 130 
 And with your ninefold harmony. 
 Make up full concert to th' angelic symphony. 
 
 For if such holy song 
 In wrap our fancy long, 
 
 Time will rtin back, and fetch the age of Gold, 135 
 And speckled Vanits' 
 Will sicken soon and die. 
 
 And leprous Sm will melt from earthly mould. 
 And Hell itself will pass away, 139 
 
 And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 453 
 
 Yea, Truth and Justice then 
 Will down return to men, 
 
 Orb'd in a rainbow ; and, like glories wearing, 
 Mercy will sit between. 
 Throned in celestial sheen, I45 
 
 With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering. 
 And Heav'n as at some festiral. 
 Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. 
 
 But wisest Fate says no, 
 
 This must not yet be so, 150 
 
 The babe lies yet in smiling infancy 
 That on the bitter cross 
 Must redeem our loss ; 
 
 So both himself and us to g-lorif y ; 154 
 
 Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep, [the deep, 
 
 The wakeful trump of Doom must thunder through 
 
 With such a horrid clang 
 
 As on mount Sinai rang, [brake : 
 
 While the red fire and smouldering clouds out- 
 The aged Earth aghast, 100 
 
 With terror of that blast. 
 
 Shall from the surface to the centre shake ; 
 When at the world's last session, [throne. 
 
 The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his 
 
 And then at last our bliss 1G5 
 
 Full and perfect is. 
 
 But now begins ; for from this happy day 
 Th' old Dragon under ground 
 In straighter limits bound. 
 
 Not half 80 far casts his usurped sway, 170 
 
 And wroth to see his kingdom fail, 
 Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail. 
 
 The oracles are dumb. 
 No voice or hideous hum 
 
 Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving 
 Apollo from his shrine 176 
 
 Can no more divine. 
 
 With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. 
 No nightly trance or breathed spell 
 Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell. 
 
 173. In allusion to the opinion that the oracles ceased 
 at our Saviour's birth. 
 
•454 POEMS ON 
 
 / Tae lonely mountains o'er, 181 
 
 And the resounding- shore, 
 
 A voice of weeping- heard and loud lann.;nt; 
 From haunted spring, and dale 
 Edged with poplar pale, 1^6 
 
 The parting Genius is with sig-hing sent ; 
 With flower-inwoven tresses torn [mourn. 
 
 The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets 
 
 In consecrated earth, 
 
 And on the holy hearth, 190 
 
 The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint ; 
 In urns and altars round, 
 A drear and dying* sound 
 
 Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; 
 And the chill marble seems to sweat, 195 
 
 While each peculiar pow'r foregoes his wonted seat. 
 
 Peor and Baalim 
 
 Forsake their temples dim. 
 
 With that twice-batter'd God of Palestine ; 
 And mooned Ashtaroth, 200 
 
 Heaven's queen and mother both, 
 
 Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine ; 
 The LybicHammon shrinks bis horn, [moura. 
 
 In vain the Tyrian maids thcrir wounded Thammus 
 
 And sullen Moloch fled, 205 
 
 Hath left in shadows dread 
 
 His burning idol all of blackest hue ; 
 In Tain with cymbals' ring 
 They call the grisly king 
 
 In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; 21ft 
 
 The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 
 Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. 
 
 Nor is Osiris seen 
 In Memphian grove or green. 
 Trampling the unshow'r'd grass with lowingsloud: 
 
 191. The Lars and Lem:ires ; household gods and ni;;-ht spirits. 
 Flamens; priests. There is a remarkable resemblance in this 
 poem, one of Milton's earliest, to the later i^roductions of his 
 genius. It presents the same mixture of learnin;,'^ and fancy; of 
 original genius, forgetting iiseif amid the treasures of erudition. 
 Most of the mythological names have been mentioned in the notes 
 to tht' larger poems. 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 455 
 
 Nor can he be at rest 216 
 
 Within his sacred chest. 
 
 Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud ; 
 In vain with timbrell'd anthems dark 
 The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipp'd ark. 
 
 He feels from Juda's land 221 
 
 Tiie dreaded Infant's hand. 
 
 The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn ; 
 Nor all the gods beside, 
 Longer dare^ abide, 225 
 
 Nor Typhon huge ending in snaky twine : 
 Our Babe to shew his Godhead true. 
 Can in his swaddling-bands control the damned crew. 
 So when the Sun in bed, 
 Curtain'd with cloudy red, 230 
 
 Pillows his chin upon an orient wave. 
 The Hocking shadov/s pale 
 Troop to th' infernal jail. 
 
 Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave. 
 And the yellow-skirted Fayes 235 
 
 Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved 
 maze. 
 
 But see the Virgin blest 
 Hath laid her Babe to rest. 
 
 Time is our tedious song should here have ending : 
 Heav'n's youngest teemed star 240 
 
 Hath fix'd her polish'd car. 
 
 Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending : 
 And all about the courtly stable 
 Bright-harnest angels sit in order serviceable. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE PASSION. 
 
 Erewhile of music, and ethereal mirth. 
 
 Wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring, 
 
 And joyous news of heav nly Infant's birth. 
 
 My Muse with angels did invite to sing; 
 
 But headlong Joy is ever on the wing, 5 
 
 244. Bright-harnest ; arnese, from which the epithet is derived, 
 is an Italian word for any kind of ornament or dress. Harness, 
 in English, is commonly used for armour. See 1 Kings xx. II. 
 
456 POEMS 0^f 
 
 In wintry solstice like the shorten'd light 
 Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-liying night. 
 
 For now to sorrow must I tune my song', 
 
 And set my harp to notes of saddest woe. 
 
 Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long, 10 
 
 Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so. 
 
 Which he for us did freely undergo : 
 
 Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight, [wight ! 
 Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human 
 
 He sovereign Priest stooping his regal head, 15 
 
 That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes. 
 Poor fleshly tabernacle entered, 
 His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies ; 
 O what a mask was there, what a disguise ! 
 
 Yet more ; the stroke of death he must abide, 20 
 Then lies him meekly down fast by his brethren's side. 
 
 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 ; 25 
 
 Loud o'er the rest Cremona's trump doth sound ; 
 
 Me softer airs befit, and softer strings. 
 Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things. 
 
 Befriend me Night, best patroness of grief. 
 
 Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw, 30 
 
 And work my flatter'd fancy to belief. 
 
 That Heav'n and Earth are colour'd with my woe ; 
 
 My sorrows are too dark for day to know: 
 
 The leaves should all be black whereon I write, 
 And letters where my tears have wash'd a wannish 
 white. 35 
 
 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 Avhere the tow'rs of Salem stood. 
 Once glorious tow'rs, now sunk in guiltless blood ; 
 
 There doth my soul in holy vision sit 41 
 
 In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit. 
 
 26. Cremona was the birth-place of the poet Vjda, who wrote si 
 poem on the sufferings and history of Christ. 
 
 37. The prophet; Ezekiel. See Fzekiel, chap. i. 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 457 
 
 Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock 
 That was the casket of Heav'n's richest store. 
 And here though grief my feeble hands up lock, 4S 
 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. 
 
 Or should I thence, hurried on viewless wing, 50 
 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 beguiled) 
 
 Might think th' infection of my sorrows loud 55 
 Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud. 
 
 {This subject the Author finding to be above the years 
 he had, ivhen he ivrote it, and nothing satisfied with 
 what was begun, left it unfinished^ 
 
 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 what is false and vain, 5 
 And merely mortal dross ; 
 So little is our loss, 
 •So little is thy g-ain. 
 
 For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd. 
 And last of all thy greedy self consumed, 10 
 
 Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss 
 With an individual kiss ; 
 And Joy shall overtake us as a flood, 
 W^hen every thing that is sincerely good 
 And perfectly divine, 15 
 
 With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine 
 About the supreme throne 
 Of Him, to' whose happy-making sight alone 
 X 
 
458 POEMS ON 
 
 Wheu once our heav'tLly-guided soul shall climl), 
 Then, all this earthy gTossness quit, 20 
 
 Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit, 
 Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, 
 O Time. 
 
 VI. 
 
 UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. 
 
 Ye flaming Pow'rs, 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 ; 5 
 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 wbo with all Heav'n's heraldry whilere 10 
 
 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? 15 
 
 Just law indeed, but more exceeding love ! 
 For we by rightful doom remediless 
 Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above 
 High throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust 
 Emptied his glory,* even to nakedness ; 20 
 
 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 wounding smart 25 
 This day, but O ere long 
 Huge pangs and strong 
 
 Will pierce more near his heart. 
 
 * Philip, ii. 7. In our translation. He made himself of no re- 
 putation ; but Milton's expression, Emptied his glory , is nearer 
 (he originalt 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. ^59 
 
 VII. 
 
 AT A SOLEMN MUSIC. 
 
 Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'n's joy, 
 
 Sphere-born harmonious bisters, Voice and Verse, 
 
 Wed your divine sounds, and mix'd pow'r employ, 
 
 Dead thing-s Avith inbreath'd sense able to pierce, 
 
 A.iid to our high-raised phantasy present 5 
 
 That undisturbed song- of pure concert. 
 
 Ay sung before the sapphire-colour'd throne 
 
 To Him thai sits thereon 
 
 With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee, 
 
 Where the bright seraphim in buraing- row 10 
 
 Their loud up-lifted ang-el -trumpets bloA', 
 
 And the cherubic host in thousand quires 
 
 Touch their immortal harps of golden wires. 
 
 With those just spirits that wear Tictorious palms. 
 
 Hymns devout and holy psalms 15 
 
 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 20 
 
 Broke the fair music that all creatiu-es made 
 
 To their great Lord, Avhose love their motion sway'd 
 
 hi perfect diapason, whilst they stood. 
 
 In first obedience, and their state of g-ood. 
 
 O may we soon again renew that song-, 25 
 
 And keep in tune with Hear'n, till God ere long 
 
 To his celestial consort us unite. 
 
 To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light. 
 
 VIIL 
 
 AN EPITAPH. 
 ON THE MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER 
 
 This rich marble doth inter 
 The honour 'd wife of Winchester 
 
 6. Concent ; from the Italian concento, harmony. 
 7. Ezek. i. 26. 14. Rev. vii, 9. 
 
 pason, a harmony running' through the whole 
 scale of notcfe in every key. 
 
1G0 POEMS ON 
 
 A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir. 
 
 Besides what her virtues fair 
 
 Added to her noble birth, 5 
 
 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 10 
 
 Yet had the number of her days 
 
 Been as complete as was her praise. 
 
 Nature and Fate had had no strife 
 
 In giving limit to her life. 
 
 Her high bii'th, and her graces sweet, 15 
 
 Quickly found a lover meet; 
 
 The virgin quire for her request 
 
 The god that sits at marriage feast ; 
 
 He at their inv&king came 
 
 But with a scaixe well-lighted flame; 20 
 
 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 novv' with second hope she goes, 25 
 
 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 : 30 
 
 The hapless babe before his birth 
 
 Had buiial, 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, 35 
 
 Saved with care from Winter's nip, 
 
 The pride of her carnation train, 
 
 riuck'd up by some unheedy swain. 
 
 Who only thought to crop the flow'r 
 
 New shot up from vernal show'r; 40 
 
 But the fair blossom hangs the head 
 
 Side-ways as on a dying bed, 
 
 96. Lucina, the groddess said by the ancienis to be present 
 at birlhs. — Atropos, one of die fates. 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 461 
 
 And those pearls of dew she wears. 
 
 Prove to be presaging tears. 
 
 Which the sad Morn had let fall 45 
 
 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, 50 
 
 That to give the world increase, 
 
 Shorten 'd hast thy own life's lease. 
 
 Here, beside the sorrowing 
 
 That thy noble house doth brin^. 
 
 Here be tears of perfect moan 55 
 
 Wept for thee in Helicon, 
 
 And some flowers, and some bays. 
 
 For thy hearse, to strow the ways. 
 
 Sent thee from the banks of Carae, 
 
 Devoted to thy virtuous name ; 60 
 
 Whilst thou, bright Saint, high sitst in giOry, 
 
 Next her much like to thee in story. 
 
 That fair Syrian shepherdess 
 
 Who, after years of barrenness. 
 
 The highly-favour'd Joseph bore 65 
 
 To him that served for her before. 
 
 And at her next birth, much like thee. 
 
 Through pangs fled to felicity. 
 
 Far within the bosom bright 
 
 Of blazing Majesty and Light: 70 
 
 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. 
 
 IX. 
 
 SONG. — ON MAY MORNING. 
 
 Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger. 
 Comes dancing fi-om the East, and leads with her 
 The flow'ry May, who from her gTeen lap throws 
 The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. 
 
 Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire 5 
 
 Mirth and yoxith and warm desire ; 
 
 63. Syrian shepherdess, Rachel. See Gen. xxix. 9, 
 
162 POEMS ON 
 
 Woods and groves are of thy dressing. 
 Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing". 
 Thus we salute thee with our early song-. 
 And welcome thee, and wish thee long. 
 
 ON SHAKSPEARE. 1630. 
 
 What needs my Shakspeare for his hpnour'd bones 
 
 The labour of an age in piled stones, 
 
 Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid 
 
 Under a starry-pointing- pyramid? 
 
 Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame, 5 
 
 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-endeavouring Art 
 
 Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart 10 
 
 Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book 
 
 Those Delphic lines with deep impression took. 
 
 Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving, 
 
 Dost make us marble with too much conceiving ; 
 
 And so sepulcher'd in suph^pomp, 4o?Lil?> ^^ 
 
 That kings for such a tomb would wish to die. 
 
 XI 
 
 ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER. 
 
 TVho 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 laid him in the dirt. 
 Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one. 
 He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 
 
 * Hobson is reckoned amon? the most celebrated Cambridsc 
 characters. He was the first who set up an establishment for 
 hack horses, and his resolution in obliging whoever came to hire 
 to take the one whicti stood next him, g-ave birtii to the well- 
 known sayin? of Hohsun^i choice, this or none. He made a con- 
 siderable fortune, and there is a picture of him at Cambrid«:e, for 
 which a very considerable sum has been repeatedly offered and 
 refused. \^'hen I was there, it was in the Norwich wag-aron- 
 office, to the walls of which 1 was told it belonged by an inalien- 
 able right. 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 463 
 
 'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, 3 
 
 Death was half glad when he had got him down ; 
 
 For he had any time this ten years full 
 
 Dodged with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull. 
 
 And surely Death could never have prevail'd 
 
 Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd ; 10 
 
 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 
 
 She w'd him his room where he must lodge that night, 
 
 PuU'd off his boots, and took away the light : 16 
 
 If any ask for him, it shall be said, 
 
 Hobson has supp'd, and 's newly gone to bed. 
 
 XII. 
 
 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 5 
 
 Until his revolution was at stay. 
 Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime 
 'Gainst old Truth) motion number'd out his time ; 
 And like an engine moved with wheel and v/eight. 
 His principles being ceased, he ended straight. 10 
 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, 15 
 
 Fainted, and died, nor v;ould with ale be quicken'd; 
 Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd, 
 If I mayn't 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 six bearers. 20 
 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 Avas come, 
 And lack of load made his life burthensome, 
 2H 
 
464 POEMS ON 
 
 That even to his last breath (there he that say't) 25 
 
 As he were press'd to death, he cry'd more weight ; 
 
 But had his doings lasted as they were. 
 
 He had been an immortal caiTier. 
 
 Obedient to the moon he spent his date 
 
 In course reciprocal, and had his fate 30 
 
 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, 
 
 XIII. 
 
 AD PYRRHAM. — ODE V. 
 
 Horatius ex PyrrlitB illecehris tanquam 6 naufragio 
 enataverat, cujus amore irretitoSf affirmat esse 
 miseros. 
 
 Quis multa gracilis te puerin rosa 
 Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus, 
 
 Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro % 
 
 Cui flavam relig^as com am 
 Simplex raunditiis ? heu quoties fidem 5 
 
 Mutatosque deos flebit, et aspera 
 
 Nigris sequora ventis 
 
 Emirabitur insolens ! 
 Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea, 
 Qui semper vacuam semper amabilem 10 
 
 Sperat, nescius aur» 
 
 Fallacis. Miseri quibus 
 Intentata nites. Me tabula sacer 
 Votiva paries indicat uvida 
 
 Suspendisse potenti 15 
 
 Vestimenta maris Deo. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE, LIB. 1. 
 
 Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa, rendered almost 
 word for word, without rhyme, according to the 
 Latin measure, as near as the language ivill permit. 
 What slender youth bedew'd with liquid odours 
 Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave. 
 
SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 465 
 
 , Pyrrha 1 for whom bind'st thou 
 f In wreaths thy golden hair, 
 
 ' Plain in thy neatness f. O how oft shall he 5 
 
 I On faith and changed (j^ods complain, and seas 
 Roug-h with black winds and storms 
 Unwonted shall admire ! 
 Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold. 
 Who always vacant, always amiable, 10 
 
 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 15 
 
 To the stern God of sea. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE, UNDER THE 
 LONG PARLIAMENT. 
 
 Because you have thrown off your Prelate lord. 
 And with stiff vows renounced his liturgy. 
 
 To seize the Avidow'd whore Plurality 
 From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr'd. 
 Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword 5 
 
 To force our consciences that Christ set free. 
 
 And ride us with a classic hierarchy 
 Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotberford? 
 
 Men whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent. 
 Would have been held in high esteem with Paul, 10 
 
 Must now be named and printed Heretics, 
 By shallow Edwards and Scotch what-d'ye-call : 
 
 But we do hope to find out all your tricks. 
 
 Your plots and packing* worse than those of Trent, 
 That so the Parliament 15 
 
 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. 20 
 
 X2 
 
SONNETS. 
 
 TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 O NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray 
 Warblegt 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, 5 
 
 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 
 
 Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh ; 10 
 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. 
 
 II. 
 
 Donna leggiadra il cui bel nome honora 
 L'herbosa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco. 
 
 Bene e colui d'ogni valore scarco 
 
 Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora, 
 
 Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora 5 
 
 De sui atti soavi giamai parco, 
 E i don', che son d'amor saette ed arco. 
 
 La onde I'alta tua virtu s'infiora. 
 
 Quando tu vaga parli, o lieta canti 
 
 Che mover possa duro alpestre legno, 10 
 
 Guardi ciascun a gli occhi, ed a gii orecchi 
 
 Le'eiicranta, chi di te si truova indegno ; 
 
 Gratia sola di su gli vaglia, inanti 
 
 Che'l disio amoroso al cuor s'invecchi. 
 
 III. 
 
 Qual in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera 
 L'avezza gioviuetta pastorella 
 Va bagnando I'herbetta strana e bella 
 
 Che nial si spande a disusata spera 
 
SONNETS. 467 
 
 Fuor di sua natia alma primavera, 5 
 
 Cosi Amor meco insii la lingua snella 
 
 Desta il fior novo di strania favella, 
 Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera. 
 
 Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso 
 E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno. 10 
 
 Amor lo volse, ed io a I'altrui peso 
 Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indamo. 
 
 Deh ! foss' il mio cuor lento e'l duro seno 
 
 A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno. 
 
 CANZONE. 
 
 RiDONSi donne e giovani amorosi 
 
 M' accostaudosi attorno, e perche scrivi, 
 
 Pei'che tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana 
 Verseg-giando d' amor, e come t' osi 1 
 
 Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana, 5 
 
 E de pensieri lo miglior t' an-ivi ; 
 Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi 
 
 Altri lidi t' aspettan, et altre onde 
 
 Nelle cui verdi sponde 
 Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma 10 
 
 L'immo7-tal guiderdon d' eterne frondi 
 Percbe alle spalle tue soverchia soma? 
 
 Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi 
 Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, e il mio cuore 
 Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore. 15 
 
 IV. 
 
 DiODATi, e te'l dir6 con maraviglia, 
 
 Quel ritroso io ch'amor spreggiar solea 
 
 E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridea 
 Gia caddi, ov'huom dabben talhor s'impiglia. 
 Ne treccie d' oro, ne guancia vermiglia 5 
 
 M' abbaglian si, ma sotto nova idea 
 
 Pellegrina bellezza cbe'l cuor bea, 
 Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglia 
 
 Quel sei-eno fulgor d' amabil nero. 
 Parole adorne di lingua piu d* una, 10 
 
 E'l cantar che di mezzo I'hemispero 
 Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna, 
 
 E degli occhi suoi auver.ta si gran fuoco 
 Ch^ rincerar gli oreccM mi iia poco. 
 
468 SONNETS. 
 
 Per cei*to i bei vostr'occhi, Donna mia 
 
 Esser non puo che non sian lo mio sole 
 
 Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole 
 Per I'arene di Libia cbi s'invia, 
 Mentre un caldo vapor (ne senti pria) H 
 
 Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole, 
 
 Che forse amanti nelle lor parole 
 Chiaman sospir, io non so che si sia : 
 
 Parte rinchiusa, e turbida si cela 
 Scosso mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco IC 
 
 Quivi d'attorno o s'ag-ghiaccia, o s'ingiela : 
 Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loco 
 
 Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose 
 
 Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose. 
 
 VI. 
 
 GiovANE piano, e semplicetto amante 
 
 Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono. 
 
 Madonna a voi del mio cuor Fhumil done 
 Faro divoto ; io certo a prove tante 
 L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, costante, 5 
 
 De pensieri leg'giadro, accorto, e buono ; 
 
 Quando rug-g'e il gran mondo, e scocca 11 tuono, 
 S*arma di se, e d' intero diamante, 
 
 Tanto del forse, e d' invidia sicuro, 
 Di timori, e speranze al popol use 10 
 
 Quanto d'ingegno, e d'alto valor vago, 
 E di cetta sonora, e delle muse : 
 
 Sol troverete in tal parte men duro 
 
 Ove Amor mise I'insanabil ago. 
 
 VII. 
 
 ON HIS BEING ARRIVED TO THE AGE OF 
 TWENTY-THREE. 
 
 How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth. 
 Stolen 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. 
 
SONNETS. 469 
 
 Perhaps my semblance might deceivo the truth, 5 
 That I to manhood am arrived so near, 
 And inward ripeness doth much less appear, 
 
 That some more timely-happy spirits indueth. 
 Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow. 
 
 It shall be still in strictest measure even 10 
 
 To that same lot, however mean or high, 
 
 Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven ; 
 All is, if I have grace to use it so, 
 As ever in my great Task-master's eye. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 "WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED 
 TO THE CITY. 
 
 Captain or Colonel, or Knight in arms. 
 Whose chance on these defenceless doors 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 5 
 
 That call fame on such g-entle acts as these. 
 And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas. 
 
 Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. 
 Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower : 
 
 The great Emathian conqueror* bid spare 10 
 
 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 the Athenian walls from ruin bare. 
 
 IX. 
 
 TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY. 
 
 Lad\ , that in the prime of earliest youth 
 Wisely hath shunn'd the broad way and the green. 
 And with those few art eminently seen. 
 That labour up the hill of heavenly truth. 
 The better part with Mary and with Ruth 5 
 
 * Emathian conqueror; Alexander, who spared the house of 
 Pindar when he destroyed Thebes.— jBZ^c^ra'* poet; Euripides, 
 6ome lines in whose tragedy saved Athens frona being totally de- 
 stroyed by Lysander. 
 
470 SONNETS. 
 
 Chosen thou hast ; and they that overween. 
 And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen. 
 No anger find in thee, but pity' and ruth. 
 Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends 9 
 
 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. 
 
 X. 
 
 TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY. 
 
 Daughter to that good Earl, once president 
 Of England's council, and her treasury. 
 Who lived in both, unstain'd with gold or fee, 
 
 And left them both, more in himself content. 
 
 Till sad the breaking of that Parliament* 5 
 
 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 
 Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you, 
 
 Madam, methinks I see him living yet; II 
 
 So well your words his noble virtues praise. 
 That all both judge you to relate them true. 
 
 And to possess them, honour'd Margaret. 
 
 XI. 
 
 ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON 
 MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES. 
 
 A BOOK was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,+ 
 And woven close, both matter, form and style ; 
 The subject new ; it walk'd the town a while. 
 
 Numbering good intellects ; now seldom pored on. 
 
 Cries the stall-reader, Bless us ! what a word on 5 
 
 * The parliament here mentioned was dissolved March 10, 
 1628. The victory was that gained by Philip of Macedon over 
 the Athenians : and the old man was Isocrates, who died with 
 grief when the tidings were broug-ht to him of the event. 
 
 t The treatise on divorce, which Milton wrote, is here alluded 
 to. The persons mentioned were some ri?id presbyterians, who 
 look offence, and very justly, at some of the opinions started. 
 
SONNETS 471 
 
 A title-pag'e is this! and some in file 
 
 ^tand spelling- false, while one might walk to Mile 
 End-Green. Why is it harder. Sirs, than Gordon, 
 
 Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp? 9 
 
 Those rugg'ed names to our like mouths grow sleek, 
 
 That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. 
 Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek, 
 
 Hated not learning worse than toad or asp. 
 When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward, 
 Greek. 
 
 XII. 
 
 ON THE SAME. 
 
 I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs 
 By the known rules of ancient lib* rty, 
 When straight a barbarous noise environs me 
 
 Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs : 4 
 
 As when those hinds that were transform'd to frogs 
 Rail'd at Latona's twin-boi-n progeny, 
 W^hich 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. 10 
 
 Licence 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 wealth, and loss of blood. 
 
 XIIL 
 
 TO MR. H. LAWES* ON HIS AIRS. 
 
 Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured 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 ; 4 
 
 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'st humour best our tongue. 
 
 « Mr. Lawes was one of the Kind's musicians, and an intimate 
 friend of Milton. He is supposed to have been frequently a^ 
 luded to in the Coraus and Arcades of our author. 
 
472 SONNETS. 
 
 Thou honour'st verse, and verse must Lend her wing 
 To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire, 10 
 
 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. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OP 
 
 M S. CATHARINE THOMSON, MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND, 
 
 DECEASED 16 DEC. 1646. 
 
 I When faith and love, which parted from thee never, 
 I 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 5 
 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 drest, 11 
 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. 
 
 XV. 
 
 TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX. 
 
 Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings, 
 Filling each mouth with envy or with praise. 
 And all her jealous monarchs with amaze. 
 
 And rumours loud that daunt remotest kings, 
 
 Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings 5 
 
 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 ?) 10 
 
 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. 
 
SONNETS. 473 
 
 XVI. 
 
 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 plough'd. 
 
 And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud 5 
 
 Hast rear'd God's trophies, and his work pursued, 
 While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots imbued, 
 And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud, 
 
 And Worcester's laureat wreath. Yet much remains 
 To conquer still ; Peace hath her victories 10 
 
 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 paw 
 Of hireling wolves, whose g'ospel is their maw. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 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 the African bold. 
 
 Whether to settle peace, or to unfold 5 
 
 The drift of hollow 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 pow'r and civil, what each means. 
 
 What severs each, thou' hast learn'd, which few 
 have done : H 
 
 The bounds of either sword to thee we owe : 
 Therefore on thy firm hand Religion leans 
 
 In peace, and reckons thee her eldest sen. 
 
4T4 SONNETS. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 ON THE LA.TE MASSACRE IN PIEMONT.* 
 
 Avenge, O Lord, thy slaug-liter'd saints, whose bonefi 
 
 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, 
 Forget not ; in thy book record their groans 5 
 
 Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold 
 
 Slain by the bloody Piemontese that roll'd 
 Mother with infant down the I'ocks. Their moans 
 
 The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
 To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow 10 
 
 O'er all th' Italian fields, where still doth sway 
 The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow 
 
 A hundred fold, who having learn'd thy way 
 Early may fly the Babylonian woe. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 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. 
 
 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 
 
 To serve therewith my Maker, and present 5 
 
 My true account, lest he returning chide ; 
 
 * Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd V 
 
 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 10 
 /^ 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.* \ 
 
 * The massacre in Piemont formed a part of the fearful perse- 
 cutions which the Vaudois, or Protestants of that country, suf- 
 fered from the Church of Rome. An abstract of this appalling 
 portion of modern church history may be found in Dr. M'Crie's 
 admirable work on the Reformation in Italy, and in Mr. Gillie's 
 lourney to the \ alleys of the Vaudois. 
 
SONNETS. 
 
 m 
 
 XX. 
 
 TO MU. 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 1 time will run 5 
 
 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 10 
 To hear the lute well touched, 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. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 TO CYRIAC SKINNER.f 
 
 Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench 
 Of British Themis, with no mean applause 
 Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws, 
 
 Which others at their bar so often wrench ; 
 
 To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench 5 
 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 
 
 Toward solid good what leads the nearest way ; 10 
 
 For other things mild Heav'n 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. 
 
 * Mr, Lawrence was son of the president of 
 
 Croravvell's council. 
 t Cyriac. Skinner was a pupiJ of Milton's. 
 
476 SONNETS. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 
 Cyriac, this three years' day these eyes, tho' clear. 
 To outward view, of bler^ish 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, 5 
 
 Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not 
 Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot 
 
 Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer 
 Right onward. What supports me 1 dost thou ask : 
 
 The conscience. Friend, to' have lost them overply'd 
 In Liberty's defence, my noble task, 11 
 
 Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 
 This thought might lead me thro' the world's vain 
 
 Content though blind, had I no better guide. Tmask 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 ON HIS DECEASED WIFE.* 
 
 Methought I saw my late-espoused 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. 
 
 Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint 
 Purification in the old law did save, 6 
 
 And such, as yet once more I trust to have 
 
 Full sight of her in Heav'n without restraint. 
 Came vested all in white, pure as her mind : 
 
 Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied sight 10 
 
 Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined 
 
 So clear, as in no face with more delight. 
 But O, as to embrace me she inclined, 
 
 I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night. 
 
 * On his deceased wife y his second wife, who died about a year 
 after their inarriag"e. — Alcestis was kina: of Tiiessaly, and bein<j 
 on the point of death, was restored to life by liis wife's voluntarily 
 offering herself to Apollo in his stead. Hercules afterward suc- 
 ceeded in rescuing her from the shades. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 PSALM I. 
 
 (Done into 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 gi*eat 
 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 watery 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. ID 
 
 Not so the wicked, but as chaff v/hich 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 raen. 
 For the Lord knows th' upright way of the just, 15 
 And the way of bad men to ruin must. 
 
 PSALM II. 
 
 (Done Au^. 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 congi-egations 
 
 Lay deep their plots together through each land 
 Against the Lord and his Messiah dear 1 5 
 
 Let us break oif, say they, by strength of hand 
 Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear 
 
 Their twisted cords : he who in Heav'n doth dwell 
 Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe 
 
 Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 10 
 
 And fierce ire trouble them ; But I, saith he. 
 
 Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) 
 On Sif.n my holy hill. A firm decree 
 
 1 will declare ; the Lord to me hath said. 
 
478 PSALMS. 
 
 Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee 15 
 
 This day ; ask of me, and the grant is made ; 
 As thy possession I on thee bestow 
 
 Th' Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway'd 
 Earth's utmost bounds ; them shalt thou bring full low 
 
 With iron sceptre bruised, and them disperse 20 
 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 25 
 
 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 in. 
 
 (Aug. 9, 1653.) 
 
 JVhen he Jled from Absalom. 
 
 Lord, how many are my foes? 
 How many those 
 
 That in arms against me rise ! 
 Many are they 
 That of my life distrustfully thus say, 5 
 
 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 ' 10 
 
 Unto Jehovah, he full soon replied 
 
 And heard me from his holy mount. 
 I lay and slept, I waked again, 
 For my sustain 
 
 Was the Lord. Of many millions 15 
 
 The populous rout 
 I fear not, though encamping round about 
 
 They pitch against rae their pavilions. 
 Rise, Lord, save me, my God, for thou 
 Hast smote ere now 20 
 
 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. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 479 
 
 PSALM IV. 
 
 
 CAug. 10, 1653.) 
 
 
 Answer me when I call. 
 
 
 God of my righteousness. 
 
 
 In straits and in distress 
 
 
 Thou didst me diseuthraJ 
 
 5 
 
 And set at large ; now spare, 
 
 
 Now pity me, and hear my earnest prayr. 
 
 
 Great ones how long* will ye 
 
 
 My glory have in scorn, 
 
 
 How long be thus foreborn 
 
 
 Still to love vanity. 
 
 10 
 
 To love, to seek, to prize 
 
 
 Things false and vain, and nothing else but lies? | 
 
 Yet know, the Lord hath chose, 
 
 
 Chose to himself a part. 
 
 
 The good and meek of heart. 
 
 5 
 
 (For whom to choose he knows) 
 
 
 Jehovah from on high 
 
 
 Will hear my voice what time to him 1 cry. 
 
 
 Be awed, and do not sin. 
 
 
 Speak to your hearts alone, 
 
 20 
 
 Upon your beds, each one. 
 
 
 And be at peace within. 
 
 
 Offer the offerings just 
 
 
 Of righteousness, and in Jehovah trust. 
 
 
 Many there be that say 
 
 25 
 
 Who yet will shew us good 1 
 
 
 Talking like this world's brood ; 
 
 
 But, Lord, thus let me pray. 
 
 
 On us lift up the light. 
 
 
 Lift up the favour of thy oount'nance bright. 
 
 30 
 
 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 
 
 35 
 
 With vast increase their com and wine abounds. || 
 
 In peace at once will I 
 
 
 Both lay me down and sleep. 
 
 
 21 
 
 
480 PSALMS. 
 
 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. 
 
 CAu?. 12, 1653.) 
 
 Jehovah, to my words give ear, 
 
 My meditation weigh, 
 The voice of ray complaining- hear 
 
 My God and King ; for unto thee I pray. 
 Jehovah, thou my early voice 5 
 
 Shalt in the morning hear, 
 I* th' morning I to thee with choice 
 
 Will rank my pray'rs, and watch till thou appear. 
 For thou art not a God that takes 
 
 In wickedness delight. 10 
 
 Evil with thee no biding makes. 
 
 Fools or bad men stand not within thy sight. 
 All workers of iniquity 
 
 Thou hat'st ; and them unblest 
 Thou wilt destroy that speak a lie ; 15 
 
 The bloody' and guileful man God doth detest. 
 But I will in thy mercies dear, 
 
 Tliy numerous mercies, go 
 Into thy house ; I in thy fear 
 
 Will tow'rds -hy holy temple worship low. 20 
 
 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 falt'ring mouth unstable 25 
 
 No word is firm or sooth ; 
 Their inside, troubles miserable ; 
 
 An open grave their throat, their tongue they 
 God, find them guilty, let them fall [smooth. 
 
 By their own counsels quell'd ; 30 
 
 Push them in their rebellions all 
 
 Still on ; for against thee they have rebell'd. 
 Then all who trust in thee shall bring 
 
 Their joy, while thou from blame 
 
PSALMS. 481 
 
 Defend'st them, they shall ever sin^ 35 
 
 And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name. 
 
 For thou, Jehovah, wilt he found 
 To bless the just man still. 
 
 As with a shield thou wilt surround 
 
 Him with thy lasting favour and good will. 40 
 
 PSALM VL 
 
 (Aug-. 13, 1653.^ 
 
 Lord, in thine ang-er 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 ev'n with anguish ache, 5 
 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 prais;e ? 10 
 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. 15 
 
 Depart all ye that work iniquity. 
 
 Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping 
 The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my 
 My supplication with acceptance fair [pray'r. 
 
 The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 
 
 Mine enemies shall be all blank and dash'd 20 
 
 With much confusion ; then grown red with shame. 
 They shall return in haste the v/ay they came, 
 
 And in a moment shall be quite abash'd. 
 
 PSALM vn. 
 
 (Au?. 14, 1653.) 
 
 Upon the words of Cush the Benjamite against Mm* 
 
 Lord, my God, to thee I fly. 
 
 Save me, and secure me under 
 Thy protection while I cry. 
 
 Lest a lion (and no wonder) 
 Y 
 
482 PSALMS. 
 
 He haste to tear my soul asunder, 5 
 
 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. 
 And not freed my foe for nought ; 
 Let th' enemy pursue my soul 
 
 And overtake it, let him tread 
 My life down to the earth, and roll 15 
 
 In the dust my glory dead, 
 
 In the dust, and there out-spread 
 Lodge it with dishonour foul. 
 Rise, Jehovah, in thine ire, 
 
 Rouse thyself amidst the rage 20 
 
 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 25 
 
 Will surround thee, seeking right. 
 Thence to thy glorious habitation 
 
 Return on high and in their sight. 
 
 Jehovah judgeth most upright 
 All people from the world's foundation. 30 
 
 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 35 
 
 And their pow'r 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, 40 
 
 In him who, both just and wise, 
 Saves th' upright of heart at last. 
 God is a just judge and severe. 
 
 And God is every day offended ; 
 If the unjust will not forbear, 45 
 
 His sword he whets, his bow hath bended 
 
PSALMS. 483 
 
 Already, and for him intended 
 The tools of death, that waits him near. 
 (His an-ows purposely made he 
 
 For them that persecute.) Behold 5U 
 
 He travels big with vanity. 
 Trouble he hath conceived of old 
 As in a womb, and from that mould 
 Hath at length brought forth a lie. 
 He digg'd a pit, and delved it deep, 55 
 
 And fell into the pit he made ; 
 His mischief that due course doth keep, 
 Turns on his head, and his ill trade 
 Of violence will undelay'd 
 Fall on his crown with ruin steep. GO 
 
 Then will I Jehovah's praise 
 According to his justice raise, 
 And sing the Name and Deity 
 Of Jehovah the Most High. 
 
 PSALM VIIL 
 
 (Aug. 14, 1653.) 
 
 Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 
 
 And glorious is thy name through all the earth 1 
 So as above the Heav'ns thy praise to set 
 
 Out of the tender mouths of latest birth. 
 Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou 5 
 
 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 Heav'ns, thy fingers' art, 9 
 
 The moon and stars which thou so bright hast set 
 In the pure firmament, 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, 15 
 
 With honour and with state thou hast him crov/n'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, 20 
 
484 PSALMS. 
 
 Fowl of the Heav'ns, and fish that through the wet 
 Sea paths in shoals do slide, and know no dearth.. 
 
 O Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous g-reat 
 And glorious is thy name through all the earth! 
 
 Nhie of the Psalms done into metre^ wherein all, 
 hut what is in a different character, are the very 
 words of the text, translated from the original. — 
 April, 1648. J. M. 
 
 PSALM LXXX. 
 
 1 Thou Shepherd that dost Israel keef 
 Give ear in time of need. 
 
 Who leadest like a flock of sheep 
 
 Thy loved Joseph's seed, 
 That sit'st between the Cheruhs bright, 6 
 
 Between their wings out-svread, 
 Shine forth, and from thy cloud give light, 
 
 And on our foes thy dread, 
 
 2 In Ephraim's view and Benjamin's, 
 
 And m Manasse's sight, 10 
 
 Awake * thy strength, come, and be seen * Gnorera, 
 To save vis by thy might, 
 
 3 Turn us again, thy grace divine 
 To us, O God, vouchsafe ; 
 
 Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 16 
 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 4 Lord God of Hosts, how long wilt thou. 
 How long wilt thou declare 
 
 Thy * smoking wrath, and angry brow * Gnashanta, 
 Against thy people's pray 'r I 20 
 
 5 Thou feed'§t them with the bread of tears. 
 Their bread with tears they eat, 
 
 And niak'st them * largely drink the tears * Shalish, 
 Wherewith their cheeks are wet, 
 
 6 A strife thou mak'st us and a prey 25 
 To every neighbour foe. 
 
 Among themselves they * laugh, they * plfiy, 
 
 And * flouts at us they throw, * Jilgnagu, 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 485 
 
 f Return us, and thy grace divine, 
 
 
 God of Hosts, vouchsafe. 
 
 30 
 
 Cause thou thy face ou us to shine. 
 
 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 
 8 A vine fi-om Egypt thou hast broug"ht. 
 
 
 Thy free love made it thine. 
 
 
 And drov'st out nations, 'proud and haut. 
 
 35 
 
 To plant this lovely vine. 
 
 
 9 Thou didst prepare for it a place. 
 
 
 And root it deep and fast. 
 
 
 That it began to grow apace, 
 
 
 And fill'd the land at last. 
 
 40 
 
 19 With her green shade that cover'd all 
 
 
 The hills were over-spread, 
 
 
 Her boughs as high as cedars tall 
 
 
 Advanced their lofty head. 
 
 
 11 Her branches on the western side 
 
 45 
 
 Down to the sea she sent. 
 
 
 And upward to that river tvide 
 
 
 Her other branches went. 
 
 
 12 Why hast thou laid her hedges low. 
 
 
 And broken down her fence. 
 
 50 
 
 That all may pluck her, as they go. 
 
 
 With rudest violence ? 
 
 
 13 The tusked boar out of the wood 
 
 
 Up turns it by the roots, 
 
 
 Wild beasts there brouze, and make their food 
 
 55 
 
 Her grapes and tender shoots. 
 
 
 14 Return now, God of Hosts, look down 
 
 
 From Heav'n, thy seat divine. 
 
 
 Behold us, but zvithout a frown. 
 
 
 And visit this thy vine. 
 
 GO 
 
 15 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. 
 
 
 16 But now it is consumed with fire. 
 
 85 
 
 And cut with axes down. 
 
 
 They perish at thy dreadful ire. 
 
 
 At thy rebuke and frown. 
 
 
486 PSALMS 
 
 17 Upon the Man of thy right hand 
 
 Let thy good hand be laid, tQ 
 
 Upon the Son of man, -whom thou 
 Strong' for thyself hast made. 
 
 18 So shall we not go back from thee 
 To loays of sin and shame. 
 
 Quicken iis thou, then gladly we 7a. 
 
 Shall call upon thy name. 
 
 19 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. 80 
 
 PSALM LXXXI 
 
 1 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'. 
 
 2 Prepare a hymn, prepare a song", 5 
 The timbrel hither bring, 
 
 Ihe cheerful psaltry bring along-. 
 And harp with pleasant string. 
 
 3 Blow, as is ivont, in the new moon 
 
 With trumpet's lofty sound, 10 
 
 Tb' appointed time, the day whereon 
 Our solemn feast comes round. 
 
 4 This Avas a statute giveti of old 
 For Israel to observe, 
 
 A law of Jacob's God, to hold, 15 
 
 From vjhence they might not swerve, 
 
 5 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. 20 
 
 6 From burden a7id from slavish toil 
 1 set his shoulder free ; 
 
 His hands from pots and miry soil 
 Deliver'd were by me. 
 
PSALMS. 487 
 
 7 When trouble did thee sore assail 25 
 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 * Besetherragnam, 
 
 With clouds encompass'd round ; 30 
 
 I tried thee at the water steep 
 
 Of Meriba renowti'd. 
 
 8 Hear, O my people, hearken well, 
 I testify to thee, 
 
 Thou ancient stock of Israel, 35 
 
 If thou wilt list to me, 
 
 9 Throughout the land of thy 
 Mo alien g-od shall be. 
 
 Nor shalt thou to a foreign god 
 In honour bend thy knee. 40 
 
 10 I am the Lord thy God which brought 
 Thee out of Egypt land ; 
 
 Ask large enough, and I, besought, 
 Will grant thy full demand. 
 
 11 And yet my people would not hear 45 
 Nor hearken to my voice ; 
 
 And Israel, whom I loved so dear, 
 Misliked me for his choice. 
 
 12 Then did I leave them to their will. 
 
 And to their wand'ring mind ; 60 
 
 Their own conceits they follow 'd still. 
 Their own devices blind. 
 
 13 O that my people would be wise, 
 To serve me all their days, 
 
 And O that Israel would advise 55 
 
 To Avalk my righteous ways ! 
 
 14 Then would I soon bring down their foes. 
 That now so proudly rise, 
 
 And turn my hand against all those 
 
 That are their enemies. 60 
 
 15 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 
 
488 PSALMS. 
 
 16 And he would feed them from the shock 65 
 
 With flour of finest wheat. 
 And satisfy them from the rock 
 
 With honey /or their meat, 
 
 PSALM LXXXII 
 
 1 God in the * great assembly stands * Bagna- 
 Of kings and lordly states, dath-el, 
 
 * Among the gods, * on both his hands * Bekerev* 
 He judges and debates. 
 
 2 How long will ye * pervert the right * Tishphetu 
 With * judgment false and wrong, [gnavel. 
 
 Favouring the wicked by your might. 
 Who thence grow bold and strong ? 
 
 3 * Regard the * weak and fatherless, 
 
 * Dispatch the * poor man's cause, * Shiphtu-dal. 
 
 And t raise the man in deep distress, 11 
 
 By -t just and equal laws. t Hatxdiku. 
 
 4 Defend the poor and desolate. 
 And rescue from the hands 
 
 Of wicked men the low estate 15 
 
 Of him that help demands. 
 
 5 They know not, nor will understand, 
 in darkness they walk on. 
 
 The earth's foundations all are * moved. 
 
 And * out of order gone. * Jimmotu, 
 
 6 I said that ye were Gods, yea all 21 
 The sons of God most high ; 
 
 7 But ye shall die like men, and fall 
 As other princes die. 
 
 8 Rise God, * judge thou the earth in might, 25 
 Tliis wicked earth * redress, * Shiphta. 
 
 For thou art he who shalt by right 
 The nations all possess. 
 
 PSALM LXXXIII. 
 
 1 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* 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 489 
 
 2 For lo ! thy furious foes 710 w * swell, 
 
 5 
 
 And * storm outrageously, * 
 
 Jchemojun. 
 
 And they that hate thee 'jn'oud and fell 
 
 
 Exalt their heads full high. 
 
 
 3 Ag-ainst thy people they * contrive * 
 
 Jagnarinm. 
 
 t Their plots and counsels deep. 
 
 t Sod. 
 
 * Them to ensnare they chiefly strive *,firthjagnatsu gnaU 
 
 t Whom thoa dost hide and keep, f Tsephuncka 
 
 4 Come let us cut them off, say they, 
 
 
 Till they no nation be, 
 
 
 That Israel's name for ever may 
 
 15 
 
 Be lost in memory. 
 
 
 5 For they consult * with all their might. 
 
 * Levjach 
 
 And all as one in mind, 
 
 [dau. 
 
 Themselves against thee they unite. 
 
 
 And in firm union bind. 
 
 20 
 
 6 The tents of Edom, and the brood 
 
 
 Of scornful Ishmael, 
 
 
 Moab, with them of Hagar's blood, 
 
 
 That in the desert dwell. 
 
 
 7 Gebal and Ammon there conspire, 
 
 i5 
 
 And hateful Amalec, 
 
 
 The Philistines, and they of Tyre, 
 
 
 Whose bounds the sea doth check. 
 
 
 8 With them great Ashur also bands, 
 
 
 And doth confirm the knot : 
 
 30 
 
 All these have lent their armed hands 
 
 
 To aid the sons of Lot. 
 
 
 9 Do to them as to Midian bold. 
 
 
 That wasted all the coast. 
 
 
 To Sisera, and as is told 
 
 3d 
 
 Thou didst to Jabin's host. 
 
 
 When at the brook of Kishon old 
 
 
 They were repulsed and slain. 
 
 
 10 At Endor quite cut off", and roU'J 
 
 
 As dung upon the plain. 
 
 to 
 
 11 As Zeb and Oreb evil sped. 
 
 
 So let their princes speed. 
 
 
 As Zeba and Zalmunna bled, 
 
 
 So let their princes bleed i 
 
 
 Y2 
 
 
490 PSALMS. 
 
 12 For they amidst their 'pride have said, 45 
 By right now shall we seize 
 
 God's houses, and tvill nozu invade 
 t Their stately palaces, f Neoth Elohim bears both. 
 
 13 My God, oh make them as a wheel. 
 
 No quiet let them find y 50 
 
 Giddy and restless let them reel 
 Like stubble from the wind. 
 
 4 As tvhen an aged \yood takes lire 
 
 Which on a sudden strays. 
 The greedy flames run higher and higher, 55 
 
 Till all the mountains blaze, 
 
 15 So with thy whirlwind them pursue. 
 And witb thy tempest chase ; 
 
 16 + And, till they i yield thee honour due. 
 
 Lord, flU with shame their face. 60 
 
 t Heb. They seek thy Name. 
 
 17 Ashamed and troubled let them be, 
 Troubled, and shamed for ever. 
 
 Ever confounded, and so die 
 With shame, and 'scape it never. 
 
 18 Then shall they know that thou, whose name 65 
 Jehovah is alone. 
 
 Art the Most High, a7id thou the same 
 O'er all the earth art one. 
 
 PSALM LXXXIV. 
 
 1 How lovely are thy dwellings fair! 
 O Lord of Hosts, how dear 
 
 The jileasa7it tabernacles are. 
 Where thou dost divell so near i 
 
 2 My soxxl doth lon^ and almost die 
 Thy courts O Lord to see. 
 
 My heart and flesh aloud do cry, 
 O living God, for thee. 
 
 3 There ev'n the sj^slttow freed from wrong 
 
 Hath found a house of rest, 10 
 
 The swallow there, to lay her young'. 
 Hath built her brooding nest. 
 
PS>LMS. 
 
 491 
 
 Ev'n "by thy altars, Lord of Hosts, 
 
 
 They find their safe abode. 
 
 
 And home they fly from round the coasts 
 
 15 
 
 Toward thee, my King, iny God. 
 
 
 4 Happy, who in thy house reside. 
 
 
 Where thee they ever praise, 
 
 
 5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide. 
 
 
 And in their hearts thy ways. 
 
 20 
 
 (J They pass through Baca's thirsty vale. 
 
 
 That dry and barren ground. 
 
 
 As through a fruitful watery dale 
 
 
 Where springs and show'rs abound. 
 
 
 7 They journey on from strength to strength 
 
 25 
 
 With Joy and gladsome cheer. 
 
 
 Till all before our God at length 
 
 
 In Sion do appear. 
 
 
 8 Lord God of Hosts, hear now my pray'r. 
 
 
 Jacob's God, give ear, 
 
 SO 
 
 9 Thou God, our shield, look on the face 
 
 
 Of thy anointed dear. 
 
 
 10 For one day in thy courts to be 
 
 
 Is better, and more blest. 
 
 
 Than in the joys of vanity 
 
 35 
 
 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 /or evermore. 
 
 40 
 
 .11 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. 
 
 
 12 If rd God of Hosts, that reign*st on high, 
 
 45 
 
 That man is truly blest. 
 
 
 Who only on thee doth rely. 
 
 
 And in thee only rest. 
 
 
492 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 PSALM LXXXV 
 
 1 Thy land to favour graciously 
 Thou hast not, Lord, been slaci 
 
 Thou hast from hard captivity 
 Returned Jacob back. 
 
 2 Til' iniquity thou didst forgive 5 
 That wrought thy people woe. 
 
 And all their sin, that did thee grieve. 
 Hast hid tvhere none shall know. 
 
 3 Thine ane:er all thou hadst removed. 
 
 And calmly didst return 10 
 
 From thy \ fierce wrath which we had proved 
 Far worse than fire to burn. 
 
 t Heb. The burning heat of thy wrath, 
 
 4 God of our saving- health and peace, 
 Turn us, and us restore, 
 
 Thine indignation cause to cease 15 
 
 Tow'rds us, and chide no more. 
 
 5 Wilt thou be angry without end. 
 For ever angry thus, 
 
 Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 
 
 From age to age on us 1 20 
 
 6 Wilt thou not * turn, and Iiear our voice, 
 
 And us again * revive, * Heb. Turn to quicken us. 
 That so thy people may rejoice 
 By thee preserved alive 1 
 
 7 Cause us to see thy goodness. Lord, 25 
 To us thy mercy shew, 
 
 Thy saving health to us afford, 
 
 A nd life in us reneiv. 
 % And now what God the Lord will speak, 
 
 I will ^0 straight and hear, 30 
 
 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 
 Return to folly, but surcease ^^ 
 
 To trespass as before. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 493 
 
 9 Surely to such as do )iim fear 
 Salvation is at hand. 
 And glory shall ere long appear 
 To dwell within our land. 
 
 40 
 
 10 Mercy and truth that long were miss'd 
 Now joyfuliy are met, 
 Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kiss'd, 
 Atid hand in hand are set. 
 
 
 11 Truth from the earth, like to a flower. 
 Shall bud and blossom then. 
 And Justice from her heavenly bower 
 Look down on mortal men. 
 
 45 
 
 12 The Lord will also then bestow 
 Whatever thing is good, 
 Our land shall forth in plenty throw 
 Her fruits to be our food. 
 
 50 
 
 13 Before him Righteousness shall go. 
 His royal harbinger, 
 Then* will he come, and not be slow. 
 His footsteps cannot err. 
 
 55 
 
 PSALM LXXXVL 
 
 
 1 Thy gracious ear, Lord, incline, 
 hear me I thee pray. 
 For I am poor, and almost pine 
 With need, and sad decay. 
 
 
 2 Preserve my soul, for t I have trod 
 Thy ways, and love the just ; 
 Save thou thy servant, my God, 
 Who still in thee doth trust. 
 
 5 
 
 3 Pity me. Lord, for daily thee 
 I call ; 4. make rejoice 
 Thy servant's soul ; for. Lord, to thee 
 I lift my soul and voice. 
 
 10 
 
 * Heb. He will set his steps to the way. 
 t Heb. I am good, loving; a doer of good and holy things* 
 
494 PSALMS. 
 
 
 
 5 For thou art good, thou Lora art prone 
 
 
 
 To pardon, thou to all 
 
 
 
 Art full of mercy, thou alone 
 
 IS 
 
 
 To them that on thee call. 
 
 
 
 6 Unto my supplication, Lord, 
 
 
 
 Give ear, and to the cry 
 
 
 
 Of my incessant prayers afford 
 
 
 
 Thy hearing graciously. 
 
 ae 
 
 
 7 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. 
 
 
 
 8 Like thee among- the gods is none. 
 
 25 
 
 
 Lord, nor any works 
 
 
 
 Of all that other gods have dofie 
 
 
 
 Like to thy glorious works. 
 
 
 
 9 The nations all whom thou hast made 
 
 
 
 Shall come, and all shall frame 
 
 ^0 
 
 
 To bow them low before thee, Lord, 
 
 
 
 And glorify thy name. 
 
 
 
 10 For great thou art, and wonders great 
 
 
 
 By thy strong hand are done. 
 
 
 
 Thou in thy everlasting seat 
 
 35 
 
 
 Remainest God alone. 
 
 
 
 11 Teach me, Lord, thy way 7nost right, 
 
 
 
 I in thy truth will bide, 
 
 
 
 To fear thy name my heart unite, 
 
 
 
 So shall it fiever slide. 
 
 4*1 
 
 
 12 Thee will I praise, Lord my God, 
 
 
 
 Thee honour and adore 
 
 
 
 With my whole heart, and blaze abroad 
 
 
 
 Thy name for evermore. 
 
 
 
 13 For great thy mercy is toward me. 
 
 45 
 
 
 And thou hast freed my soul. 
 
 
 
 Even from the lowest Hell set free, 
 
 
 
 Fro?n deepest darkness foul. 
 
 
 
 14 God, the proud against me rise. 
 
 
 
 And violent men are met 
 
 SQ 
 
 
 To seek my life, and in their eyes 
 
 
 
 No fear of thee have set. 
 
 
 
PSALMS. 495 
 
 15 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild, 
 
 Readiest thy g-race to shew, 
 Slow to be angry, and art styled 55 
 
 Most merciful, most true. 
 
 16 turn to me tJiy face at lengthy 
 
 And me have mercy on. 
 Unto thy servant give thy strength, 
 And save thy handmaid's son. 60 
 
 17 Some sign of good to me afford, 
 
 And let my foes then see, 
 And be ashamed, because thou Lord 
 Dost help arid comfort me. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVIL 
 
 1 Among the holy mountains high 
 
 Is his foundation fast, 
 There seated is his sanctuary ^ 
 His temjple there is placed. 
 
 2 Sion's fair gates the Lord loves more 5 
 
 Than all the dwellings fair 
 Of Jacob's land, though there be store. 
 And all within his care. 
 
 3 City of God, most glorious things 
 
 Of thee abroad are spoke ; 10 
 
 mention Egypt, where 'proud kings 
 Did our forefathers yoke, 
 
 4 I mention Babel to my friends, 
 
 Philistia full of scorns 
 And Tyre with Ethiops' utmost ends, 15 
 
 Lo this man there was born : 
 
 5 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. 20 
 
 6 The Lord shall write it in a scroll 
 
 That ne'er shall be out- worn, 
 When he the nations doth inroU, 
 That this maa there was born. 
 2K 
 
496 PSALMS. 
 
 7 Both they who sing, and they who dance, 25 
 
 With sacred songs are there, 
 
 In thee fresh brooks and soft streams glance. 
 
 And all my fountains clear. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVIIL 
 
 1 Lord God, thou dost me save and keep. 
 
 All day to thee I cry ; 
 
 And all night long before thee weep, 
 
 Before thee prostrate lie. 
 
 2 Into thy presence let my prayer 5 
 
 With sighs devout ascend, 
 
 And to my cries that ceaseless are, 
 
 Thine ear with favour bend. 
 
 3 For cloy'd with woes and trouble store 
 
 Surcharged my soul doth lie, 10 
 
 My life at death's uncheerfal door 
 
 Unto the grave draws nigh. 
 
 \ Reckon'd I am with them that pass 
 
 Down to the dismal pit ; 
 
 I am a * man, but weak alas, 15 
 
 And for that name unfit. 
 
 5 From life discharged and parted quite 
 
 Among the dead to sleep, 
 
 And like the slain in bloody fight 
 
 That in the grave lie deep, 20 
 
 Whom thou rememberest no more, 
 
 Dost never more regard, 
 
 Them from thy hand deliver'd o'er. 
 
 Death's hideous house hath barr'd. 
 
 6 Thou in the lowest pit profound 25 
 
 Hast set me all forlorn. 
 
 Where thickest darkness hovers rounds 
 
 In horrid deeps to mourn. 
 
 7 Thy wrath, /row ivhich no shelter saves, 
 
 Full sore doth press on me ; 30 
 
 t Thou break'st upon me all thy waves, 
 
 t And all thy waves break me. 
 
 * Heb. A man without manly strength* 
 
 t The Heb. bears both. 
 
PtSALMS. 
 
 497 
 
 6 Thou dost my friends from me estrange. 
 And mak'st me odious. 
 Me to them odious, /or they change. 
 And I here pent up tlius. 
 
 35 
 
 9 Through sorrow, and affliction great. 
 Mine eyes grow dim and dead, 
 Lord, all the day 1 thee entreat. 
 My hands to thee I spread. 
 
 40 
 
 10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead ? 
 Shall the deceased arise. 
 And praise thee from their loathsome bed 
 With pale and hollow eyes ? 
 
 
 11 Shall they thy loving kindness tell 
 On whom the grave hath hold ? 
 Or they who in perdition divelly 
 Thy faithfulness unfold ? 
 
 45 
 
 12 In darkness can thy mighty hand 
 Or wondrous acts be known 1 
 Thy justice in the gloomy land 
 Of dark o\i\i\ion% 
 
 50 
 
 13 But I to thee, Lord, do cry. 
 Ere yet my life he spent. 
 And up to thee my pray'r doth hie 
 Each morn, and thee prevent. 
 
 55 
 
 14 Why wilt thou. Lord, my soul forsake. 
 
 And hide thy face from me ; 
 
 15 That am already bruised, and * shake 
 
 With terror sent from thee ? 
 Bruised, and afflicted, and so loio 
 
 As ready to expire. 
 While I thy terrors undergo 
 
 Astonish'd with thine ire. 
 
 61 
 
 16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow. 
 
 Thy threat'nings cut me through • 
 
 17 All day they round about me go. 
 
 Like waves they me pursue. 
 
 65 
 
 * Heb, Pra concusstone. 
 
 
498 PSALMS. 
 
 18 Lover and friend thou hast removed. 
 And severed from me far : 
 They Jly me now whom I have loved. 
 And as in darkness are. 
 
 A PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CXIV. 
 
 77iis and the following Psalm were done by the 
 Author at ^f teen years old. 
 
 When the blest seed of Terah's faithful son 
 After long' toil their liberty had w^on, 
 And past from Pharian fields to Canaan land, 
 Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand, 
 Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shewn, 5 
 
 His praise and glory was in Israel knov/n. 
 That saw the troubled sea, and shivering lied, 
 And sought to hide his froth-becurled head 
 Low in the earth ; Joi'dan's clear streams recoil. 
 As a faint host that hath received the foil. 10 
 
 The high, huge-bellied mountains skip like rams 
 Amongst their ewes, the little hills like lambs. 
 Why fled the ocean'? and why skipt the mountains? 
 Why turned Jordan tow'rd his crystal fountains 1 
 Shake, earth, and at the presence be aghast 15 
 
 Of Him that ever was, and ay shall last ; 
 That glassy floods from rugged rocks can crush. 
 And make soft rills from fiery flint-stones g-ush. 
 
 PSALM CXXXVI. 
 
 Let us with a gladsome mind 
 Praise the Lord, for he is kind ; 
 
 For his mercies ay endure. 
 
 Ever faithful, ever sure. 
 
 Let us blaze his name abroad, 5 
 
 For of gods he is the God ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 O, let us his praises tell, 
 
 Who doth the wrathful tyrants quell ; 10 
 
 For his. Sec. 
 
PSALMS. .499 
 
 Who with his miracles doth make 
 Amazed Heaven and Earth to shake ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who by his wisdom did create 
 The painted Heav'ns so full of state ; 
 For his, &c. 20 
 
 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, 8cc. 
 
 And caused the golden-tressed sun 
 All the day long his course to run ; 30 
 
 For his, «&c. 
 
 The horned moon to shine by night. 
 Amongst her spangled sisters bright ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He v/ith his thunder-clasping hand 
 Smote the first-born of Egypt land ; 
 For his, &c. 40 
 
 And in despite of Pharaoh fell, 
 He brought from thence his Israel 
 For his, &c. 
 
 The riiddy waves he cleft in twain 
 Of the ErythrEean main ; 
 For his, «&c 
 
 The floods stood still like walls of glass^ 5^ 
 
 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. 
 
 Elis chosen people he did bless 
 In the wasteful wilderness* 
 For his, &c. 
 
500 PSALM ;^. 
 
 In bloody battle he brought down 
 Kings of prowess and renown ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He foil'd bold Seon and his host. 
 That ruled the Amorrean coast ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And large-limb'd Og he did subdue, 70 
 
 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. 80 
 
 And freed us from our slavery 
 Of the invading enemy ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 All living creatares he doth feed. 
 And with full hand supplies their need; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Let us therefore warble forth ©0 
 
 His mighty majesty and worth; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 That bis mansion hath on high 
 Above the reach of mortal eye ; 
 
 For his mercies ay endure^ 
 
 Ever faithful, ever sure* 
 
JOANNIS MILTONI 
 
 LONDINENSTS 
 
 POEMATA. 
 
 Quorum plerague intra Annum JStatis 
 Vigesimum conscripsit. 
 
 HiEC qxias sequuntur de Authore testimonia, tametsi 
 ipse intelligebat non tarn de se quam supra se esse 
 dicta, eo quod praeclaro ingenio viri, nee non aitiici 
 ita fere solent laudare, ut omnia suis potius virtuti- 
 bus, quam veritati congruentia nimis cupide affin- 
 gant, nolu.it tamen horum egregiam in se voluntatem 
 non esse notam ; cum alii praesertim ut id faceret 
 iriagnopere suaderent. Dum enim nimise laudis 
 invidiam totis ab se viribus amolitur, sibique quod 
 plus aequo est non attributum esse mavult, judicium 
 interim hominum cordatorum atque illustrium quin 
 summo sibi honori ducat, negare non potest. 
 
 Joannes Baptista Mansus, Marchio Villensis, Nea- 
 politaiiuSy ad Joannem Miltonium Angium. 
 
 Ut mens, forma, decor, facies, mos, si pietas sic, 
 Non Anglus, verum hercle Angeius ipse fores. 
 
 Ad Joannem Miltonem Angium triplici poeseos lau- 
 rea coronandnm, Graca 7iiiniruin, Latina^ atque 
 Hetrusca, epigramma Joannis SalsiUi Romani, 
 
 Cede Meles, cedat depressa Mincius urna ; 
 
 Sebetus Tassum desinat usque loqui : 
 At Thamesis victor cunctis ferat altior undas. 
 
 Nam per te, Milto, par tribus unus erit. 
 
 Ad Joannem Miltonum. 
 
 Gb^cia Meeonidera, jactet sibi Koma Maronem, 
 Anglia Miltonum jactat utrique parem. 
 
 Seivag'gi 
 
502 DE AUTHORE TESTIMONIA. 
 
 Al Signior Gio. Miltoni nobile Jnglese, 
 
 Ergimi air Etra 6 Clio 
 Perche di stelle iiitrecciei*6 corona 
 
 Non piii del Biondo Dio 
 La Fronde eterna in Pindo, e in Elicona, 
 
 Diensi a raerto raag'g:ior, maggiori i fregi, C 
 
 A' celeste virtii celesti pregi. 
 Non puo del tempo edace 
 Rimaner preda, eterno alto valore 
 
 Non puo r oblio lapace 
 Furar dalle memorie eccelso onore, 10 
 
 Su r arco di niia cetra un dardo forte 
 Virtii m'adatti, e ferird la morte. 
 Del Ocean profondo 
 Cinta dagii arapi gorgbi Ang-lia resiede 
 
 Separata dal mondo, 15 
 
 Perd che il suo valor I'umana eccede : 
 Questa feconda sa produrre Eroi, 
 Ch' hanno a ragion del sovruman tra noi. 
 Alia virtii sbandita 
 Danho ne i petti lor fido ricetto, 20 
 
 Quella gli e sol g-radita, 
 Perche in lei san trovar gioia, e diletto ; 
 Ridillo tu, Giovanni, e mostra in tanto 
 Con tua vera virtii, vero il mio Canto. 
 
 Lungi dal Patrio lido 25 
 
 Spinse Zeusi V industre ardente brama ; 
 
 Ch' udio d' Helena il grido 
 Con aurea tromba rimbombar la fama, 
 E per poterla effigiare al paro 
 Dalle piii belle Idee trasse il piu raro. 30 
 
 Cosi I'Ape Ingegnosa 
 Trae con industria il suo liquor pregiato 
 
 Dal giglio e dalla rosa, 
 E quanti vaghi fiori ornano il prato ; 
 
 Formano un dolce suon diverse Chorde, 35 
 
 Fan varie voci melodia Concorde. 
 Di bella gloria amenta 
 Milton dal Ciel natio per varie parti 
 
 ^=:^:=d\ 
 
DS AUTHORE TESTIMONIA. 503 
 
 Le peregrine piante 
 Volgesti a ricercar scienze, ed arti ; 40 
 
 Del Gallo regnator vedesti i Regni, 
 E deir Italia ancor gi' Eroi piu degni. 
 Fabro quasi divino 
 Sol vii-tii rintracciando il tuo pensiero 
 
 Vide ill ogni coniino 45 
 
 Chi di nobil valor calca il sentiero; 
 L' ottimo dal rniglior dopo scegliea 
 Per fabbricar d' ogiii virtu 1' Idea. 
 Quanti nacquero in Flora 
 O in lei del parlar Tosco appreser 1' arte, S'O 
 
 La cui memorio onora 
 II mondo fatta eterna in dotte carte, 
 Volesti ricercar per tuo tesoro, 
 E parlasti con lor nell' opre lore. 
 Neir altera Babelle 55 
 
 Per te il parlar confuse Giove in vano, 
 
 Che per varie favelle 
 Di se stessa trofeo cadde su'l piano : 
 
 Ch' Ode oltr' all Anglia il suo piu degno Idioma 
 Spagna, Francia, Toscana, e Grecia e Roma. 60 
 I piu profondi arcani 
 Ch' occulta la natura e in cielo e in terra 
 
 Ch' a Ingegni sovrumani 
 Troppo avaro tal' hor gli chiude, e serra, 
 
 Chiaromente conosci, e giungi al fine 65 
 
 Delia moral virtude al gran confine. 
 Non batta il Tempo Tale, 
 Fermisi immoto, e in un fermin si gl' anni, 
 
 Che di virtu immortale 
 Scorron di troppo ingiuriosi a i danni ; 70 
 
 Che s'opre degne di Poema o storia 
 Furon gia, Thai presenti alia memoria. 
 Dammi tua dolce Cetra 
 Se vuoi ch* io dica del tuo dolce canto, 
 
 Ch' inalzandoti all' Etra 75 
 
 Di farti huomo celeste ottiene il vanto. 
 In Tamigi il dira che gl' e concesso 
 Per te suo cigno parreggiar Permesso. 
 Io che in riva del Arno 
 Tento spiegar tuo merto alto, e preclaro SO 
 
d04 DK AUTHORE TESTIMONIA. 
 
 So clie fatico indarno, 
 E ad ammirar, non a lodarlo imparo ; 
 
 Freno dunque la lingua, e ascolto il core 
 Che ti prende a lodar con lo stupore. 
 
 Del Sig. Antonio Francini gentilhuomo 
 
 Fiorentino. 
 
 JOANNI MILTONI 
 
 LONDINENSI. 
 
 Juveni patria, virtutibus eximio, 
 
 ViRO qui inulta peregrination e, stwdia cuncta orbis 
 terrarum loca perspexit, ut novus Ulysses omnia 
 ubique ab omnibus apprehend eret : 
 
 Pol3^glotto. in cujus oie hngivde jam deperditas sic re- 
 viviscunt, ut idiomata omnia sint in ejus laudibus 
 infacunda: et jure ea percallet, ut admirationes et 
 plausus populorum ab propria sapientia excitatos 
 intelligat : 
 
 Illi, CUJUS animi dotes corporisque sensus ad admira- 
 tionem commovent, et per ipsam motuni cuique 
 auferunt ; cujus opera ad plausus hortantur, sed 
 venustate vocem laudatoribus adimunt. 
 
 Cui in memoria totus orbis ; in intellectu sapientia ; 
 in voluntate ardor gloriae ; in ore eloquentia ; har- 
 monicos coelestium sphasrarum sonitus astronomia 
 duce audienti ; characteres mirabilium natur<e per 
 quos Dei mag'nitudo describitur magistra philoso- 
 phia legenti ; antiquitatum latebras, vetustatis ex- 
 cidia, eruditionis ambages, comite assidua autorum 
 lectione, 
 
 Exquirentf, restaurant!, percurrenti. 
 At cur nitor in arduuin ? 
 
 Illi in cujus virtutibus evulgandis ora Famte non suf- 
 ficiant, nee liommum stujjor in laudandis satis est, 
 reverentiie et amoris ergo hoc ejus meritis debitum 
 •\dmirationis ti'ibutum ofiert Carolus Deodatus Pa- 
 tincius Florentinus, 
 
 Tanto horafni servu?,, tantie virf'tis upvator 
 
ELEGIARUM LIBER. 
 
 Elegia Prima, ad Carolum Deodaium. 
 
 Tandem, chare, tuaj mihi pervenere tabellae, 
 
 Pertulit et voces nuncia charta tuas ; 
 Pertulit occidua Devae Cestrensis ab ora 
 
 Verg'ivium prono qua petit amne salum. 
 Multum, crede, juvat terras aluisse remotas 5 
 
 Pectus amans iiostri, tanique fidele caput, 
 Quodque milii lepidum tellus longinqua sodalem 
 
 Debet, at unde brevi reddere jussa velit. 
 Me tenet urbs reflua quam Thamesis alluit unda, 
 
 Meque nee invitum patria dulcis habet. 10 
 
 Jam nee arundiferum mihi cura revisere Camuiri, 
 
 Nee dudum vetiti nie laris angit amor. 
 Nuda nee ai'va placent, urabrasque negantia molles, 
 
 Quam male Phcebicolis convenit ille locus I 
 Nee duri libet usque minas perferre magistri 15 
 
 Casteraque ingenio non subeunda meo. 
 Si sit hoc exilium patrios adiisse penates, 
 
 Et vacuum curis otia grata sequi, 
 Non ego vel profugi nomen, sortemve recuso, 
 
 Laetus et exilii condition e fruor. 20 
 
 O utinam vates nunquam graviora tulisset 
 
 Ille Tomitano flebilis exul agro ; 
 Non tunc lonio quicquam cecisset Homero, 
 
 Neve foret victo laus tibi prima Ma,ro, 
 Tempora nam licet hie placidis dare libera Musis, 25 
 
 Et totum rapiunt me niea vita libri. 
 Excipit hine fessum sinuosi pompa theatri, 
 
 Et vocat ad plausus garrula scena suos. 
 Seu catus auditur senior, sou prodigus haerss, 
 
 Seu pi'ocus, aut posita casside miles adest, 30 
 
 Si^.e decennali foecundus lite patronus 
 
 Detonat inculto barbara verba foro ; 
 Z 
 
508 POEMATA. 
 
 Stepe yafer gnato succurrit servus anianti, 
 
 Et nasura rigidi fallit ubique patris ; 
 Saspe novos illic virgo mirata calores 35 
 
 Quid sit amor nescit, dum quoque nescit, amat. 
 Sive cruentatum furiosa Tragoedia sceptrum 
 
 Quassat, et effusis crinibus ora rotat, * 
 
 Et dolet, et specto, javat et spectasse dolendo, 
 
 Interdum et lacrymis dulcis amator inest: 40 
 
 Seu puer infelix indelibata reliquit 
 
 Gaudia, et abrupto flendus amore cadit : 
 Seu ferus e tenebris iterat Styga criminis ultor 
 
 Conscia funereo pectora torre movens : 
 Seu moeret Pelopeia domus, seu nobilis Hi, 45 
 
 Aut luit incestos aula Creontis avos. 
 Sed neque sub tecto semper nee in urbe latemus, 
 
 Irrita nee nobis tempera veris eunt. 
 Nos quoque lucus habet vicina consitus ulmo, 
 
 Atque suburbani nobilis umbra loci. 50 
 
 Saepius hie blandas spirantia sidera flammas 
 
 Virgineos videas preteriisse choros. 
 Ah quoties dignae stupui miracula formge, 
 
 Quae possit senium vel reparare Jovis ! 
 Ah quoties vidi superantia lumina gemmas, 55 
 
 Atque faces, quotquot volvit uterque polua ; 
 Collaque bis vivi Pelopis quas brachia vincant, 
 
 Quaeque fiuit puro nectare tincta via, 
 Et decus eximium frontis, tremulosque capillos, 
 
 Aurea quae fallax retia tendit Amor ; GO 
 
 Pellacesque genas, ad quos H'yacinthina sordet 
 
 Purpura, et ipse tui floris, Adoni, rubor! 
 Cedite iaudata3 toties Heroides olim, 
 
 Et quaecunque vagum cepit ainica Jovem. 
 Cedite Achaemenise turrita fronte puellae 65 
 
 Et quot Susa colunt, Merainoniamque Ninon. 
 Vos etiam Danaae fasces submittite Nymphae, 
 
 Et vos Iliacas, Romuleaeque nurus. 
 Nee Pompeianas Tai-peia Musa coiumnas 
 
 Jactet, et Ausoniis plena theatra stolis. 70 
 
 Gloria Virginibus debetur prima Britannis, 
 
 Extera sat tibi sit foemina, posse sequi. 
 Tuque urbs Dardaniis, Londinum, structa colonis, 
 Turrigerum late conspicienda caput, 
 
POEMATA. 507 
 
 Tu nimiiim felix intra tua moenia claudis 75 
 
 Qujcquid formcsi pendulus orbis habet. 
 Non tibi tot coelo scintillant astra sereno 
 
 Endyraionese turba ministra dese, 
 Quot tibi, conspicuae formaque auioque, puellaa 
 
 Per medias radiant turha videnda vias. 80 
 
 Creditur hue geminis venisse invecta cohimbis 
 
 Alma pharetrigero milite cincta Venus, 
 Huic Cnidon, et riguas Simoentis flumine valles, 
 
 Huic Paphon, et roseam posthabitura Cypron. 
 Ast ego, dum pueri sinit indulgentia caeci, 85 
 
 Moenia quam subitd linquere fausta paro ; 
 Et vitare procul malefide infamia Circes 
 
 Atria, divini Molyos usus ope. 
 Stat quoque juncosas Cami remeare paludes, 
 
 Atque itei-um raucse murmur adire Scholas. 90 
 
 Interea fidi parvum cape munus amici, 
 
 Paucaque in alteruos verba coacta modos. 
 
 ELEGIA SECUNDA. 
 
 (Anno iEtatis 17.) 
 In ohitum Praconis Academici Cantahrlgiensis. 
 
 Te, qui conspicuus baculo fulgente solebas 
 
 Palladium toties ere ciere gregem. 
 Ultima praiconum preconem te quoque saeva 
 
 Mors rapit, officio nee favet ipsa suo, 
 Candidiora licet fuerint tibi tempora plumis 5 
 
 Sub quibus accipimus delituisse Jovem ; 
 O dignus tamen Hsemonio juvenescere succo, 
 
 Dignus in /Esonios vivere posse dies, 
 Dignus quem Stygiis medica revocaret ab undis 
 
 Arte Coronides, saepe rogantc dea. 10 
 
 Tu si jussus eras acies accire togatas, 
 
 Et celer a Phoebo nuncius ire tuo. 
 Talis in Iliaca stabat Cyllenius aula 
 
 Aiipes, a?therea missus ab arce Patris. 
 Talis et Eurybates ante ora furentis Achillei 15 
 
 Retulit Atridai jiissa severa ducis. 
 Magna sepulchrorum regina, satelles Aremi, 
 
 Sseva nimis Musis, Palladi saeva nimiSf 
 
608 POEM IT A. 
 
 Quin illos rapias qui pondus inutile terrse, 
 Turba quidein est telis ista petenda tuis. 20 
 
 Testibus hunc igitur puliis, Academia, luge, 
 Et madeant lachrymis nigra feretra tuis. 
 
 Fundat et ipsa modos querebunda Elegeia tristes, 
 Personet et totis noenia maesta scholis. 
 
 ELEGIA TERTIA. 
 
 (Anno ^tatis 17.) 
 In obitum Prcesulis Wintoniensis. 
 
 MdiSTUs eram, et tacitus nullo comitante sedebam, 
 
 H^rebantque animo tristia plura meo, 
 Protinus en subiit funestas cladis imago 
 
 Fecit in Angliaco quam Libitina solo ; 
 Dum procemm ingressa est splendentes marmore 
 
 Dira sepulchrali mors raetuenda face ; [turres, 
 
 Pulsavitque auro gravidos et jaspide muros, 
 
 Nee metuit satrapum sternere falce greges. 
 Tunc memini clarique ducis, fratrisque verendi 
 
 Intempestivis ossa ci'emata rogis; 10 
 
 Et memini Heroum quos vidit ad sethera raptos, 
 
 Flerit et amissos Belgia tota duces. 
 At te praecipue luxi, dignissime Praesul, 
 
 Wintoniaeque olim gloria magna tuae ; 
 Delicui fletu, et tristi sic ore querebar, 15 
 
 Mors fera, Tartareo diva secunda Jovi, 
 Nonne satis quod S5'lva tuas persentiat iras, 
 
 Et quod in herbosos jus tibi detur agros, 
 Quodque afflata tuo marcescant lilia tabo, 
 
 Et crocus, et pulclirse Cypridi sacra rosa, 20 
 
 Nee sinis ut semper fluvio contermina quercus 
 
 Miretur lapsus pra^tereuntis aquae ? 
 Et tibi succumbit, liquido quae plurima coelo 
 
 Evehitur pennis, quamlibet augur avis, 
 Et quae mille nigris errant animalia sylvis, 25 
 
 Et quod alunt mutum Proteos antra pecus. 
 Invida, tanti tibi cum sit concessa potestas ; 
 
 Quid juvat humana tingere ca;de manus ? 
 Nobileque in pectus certas acuisse sagittas, 
 
 Semideamque animani sede fugasse sua? 30 
 
POEM ATA. 609 
 
 Talia dum lacrymans alto sub pectore voIyo, 
 
 Roscidus occiduis Hesperus exit aquis, 
 Et Tartessiaco submerserat aequore cumim 
 
 Phoebus, ab Eoo littore mensus iter. 
 Nee mora, membra cavo posui refovenda cubili 35 
 
 Condiderant oculos noxque soporque meos : 
 Cum miihi visus eram lato spatiarier agro, 
 
 Heu nequit ingenium visa refen'e ineum. 
 Illic punicea radiabant omnia luce, 
 
 Ut matutino cum juga sole rubent. 40 
 
 Ac veluti cum pandit opes Thaumantia proles, 
 
 Vestitu nituit multicolore solum. 
 Non dea tarn variis ornavit floribus hortos 
 
 Alcinoi, Zephyro Chloris amata levi. 
 Flumina vernantes lambunt argentea campos 45 
 
 Ditior Hesperio ilavet arena Tago. 
 Serpit odoriferas per opes levis aura Favoni, 
 
 Aura sub innumeris humida nata rosis. 
 Talis in extremis terra? Garig;etidis oris 
 
 Luciferi regis fingitur esse domus. 5^ 
 
 Ipse racemifei'is dum densas vitibus umbras 
 
 Et pellucentes miror ubique locos, 
 Ecce mihi subito Praesul Wintonius astat, 
 
 Sidereum nitido fulsit in ore jubar; 
 Vestis ad auratos defluxit Candida talos, 5*" 
 
 Insula divinum cinxerat alba caput. 
 Duraque senex tali incedit venerandus amictu, 
 
 Intremuit leeto fiorea terra sono. 
 Agmina gemmatis plaudunt caelestia pennis, 
 
 Pura triumphali personat aethra tuba. CO 
 
 Quisque novum araplexu coraitem cantuque salutat, 
 
 Hosque aliquis placido misit ab ore sonos ; 
 * Nate veni, et patrii felix cape gaudia regni, 
 
 Semper ab hinc duro, nate, labore vaca.' 
 Dixit, et aligerae tetigerunt nablia turmse, 05 
 
 At mihi cum tenebris aurea pulsa quies. 
 Flebam turbatos Cephaleia pellice soranos, 
 
 Talia contingant somnia saepe mihi. 
 
I 
 
 610 POEMATA 
 
 ELEGIA QUARTA. 
 
 (Anno iEtatis 18.) 
 
 Ad Thotnani Juniiim prrrceptorem suum, apnd mer- 
 catores Anglicos Hamburgce agentes, pastoris mu- 
 nere fungentem. 
 
 CuRKE per immensum siititd, mea littera, pontum, 
 
 I, pete Teutonicos laeve per Eequor agTos ; 
 Segues runipe moras, et nil, precor, obstet eunti, 
 
 Et festiiiantis nil remoretur iter. 
 Ipse ego Sicanio i'rsenanteni carcere ventos 5 
 
 iEolon, et virides sollicitabo Deos, 
 Caeruleamque suis comitatani Dorida Nymphis, 
 
 Ut tibi dent placid am per sua regna viam. 
 At tu, si poteris, celeres tibi sume jug^ales, 
 
 Vecta quibus Colchis fugit ab ore viri ; 10 
 
 Aut queis Triptolemus Scythicas devenit in oras 
 
 Gratus Eleusina missus ab urbe puer. 
 Atque iibi Germanas flavere videbis arenas 
 
 Ditis ad Hambuigas tnoenia llecte gradum, 
 Dicitur ccciso quas ducere nomen ab Kama, 15 
 
 Cimbrica quem fertur clava dedisse neci. 
 Vivit ibi antiquge clarus pietatis lionore 
 
 Prassul Cliristicolas pascere doctus oves ; 
 Ille quidem est animse pkisquam pars altera nostrae, 
 Dimidio vitee vivere cogor ego. "0 
 
 Hei mihi quot pelagi, qnot monies interject! 
 
 Me faciunt alia parte carere mei ! 
 Charior ille mihi quam tu doctissime Graium 
 
 Cliniadi, pronepos qui Telamonis erat ; 
 Quamque Stagi rites generoso nuagrnus alumno, 25 
 
 Quem peperit Lybico Chaonis ainaa Jovi. 
 Qualis Amiyntorides, qualis Philyreius Heros 
 
 Myrmidonum regi, talis et ille mihi. 
 Primus eg'o Aonios illo praeunte recessus 
 
 Lustrabam, et bifidi sacra vireta jugi, 30 
 
 Pierosque hausi latices, Clioque favente, 
 
 Castalio sparsi iseta ter ora mero. 
 Fiammeus at sigiiuin ter viderat arietis ^thon, 
 Induxitque auro lanea ter^a novo, 
 
POEM ATA. 511 
 
 Bisque novo terram sparsisti, Chlori, senilem 35 
 
 Gramme, bisque tuas abstulit Auster opes : 
 Necdum ejus licuit mihi liJsmina pascere vultu, 
 
 Aut ling-ute dulces aui^e bibisse sonos. 
 Vade igitar, cursuque Eurum praiverte sonorum, 
 
 Quara sit opus monitis res docet, ipsa vides. 40 
 Invenies dulci cum conjug-e forte sedentem, 
 
 Mulcentem gremio pignora chara suo, 
 Forsitan aut veterum pra^larga volumiua patrum 
 
 Versantem, aut veri biblia sacra Dei, 
 Cajlestive animas saturantem rore teuellas, 45 
 
 Grande salutifera? religionis opus. 
 Utque solet, multam sit dicere cura salutem, 
 
 Dicere quam decuit, si modo adesset, herum. 
 Haec quoque, paulum oculos in humum defixa mo- 
 
 Vei'i>a verecundo sis memor ore Joqui : [destos 
 
 Hajc tibi, si teneris vacat inter pra?li Musis, 51 
 
 Mittit ab Angiiaco littore iida manus, 
 Accipe sinceram, quam vis sit sera, salutem ; 
 
 Fiat et hoc ipso g-ratior ilia tibi. 
 Sera quidem, sed vera fuit, quam casta recepit 55 
 
 Icaris a lento Penelopeia viro. 
 Ast ego quid volui manit'estuni tollere crimen, 
 
 Ipse (iuod ex omni parte levare nequit ? 
 Arguitur tardus merito, noxamque fatetur, 
 
 Et pudet officium deseruisse suum. 60 
 
 Tu mod6 da veniam fasso, veniamque rogauti, 
 
 Crimina diminui, quae patuere, solent. 
 IS on ferus in pavidos rictus diducit i'liantes 
 
 Vulnifico pronos nee rapit nngue leo. 
 Sajpe sarissiferi crudelia pectora Thracis 65 
 
 Supplicis ad moestas delicuere preces. 
 Extensaeque manus avertunt fulminis ictus, 
 
 Placat et iratos liostia parva Deos. 
 Jamque diu scripsisse tibi fuit impetus illi. 
 
 Neve moras ultra ducere passus Amor ; 70 
 
 Nam vaga Fama refert, hen nuntia vera malorum f 
 
 In tibi finitimis bella turn ere locis, 
 Teque tuamque urbem truculento milite cingi, 
 
 Et jam Saxonicos arma parasse duces, 
 Te circum late campos populatur Enyo, 75 
 
 Et sata carne virum jam cruor arva rigat ; 
 
 S L 
 
512 POEMATA. 
 
 Germanisque suum concessit Thracia Martem, 
 
 lUuc Odrysios Mars pater egit equos ; 
 Perpetudque comans jam defiorescit oliva, 
 
 Fugit et jerisonam Diva perosa tubam, 80 
 
 Fugit io terris, et jam iion ultima virgo 
 
 Creditur ad superas justa volasse doraos. 
 Te tamen interea belli circumsonat horror, 
 
 Vivis et ignoto solus inopsque solo ; 
 Et, tibi quam patrii non exhibuere penates, 85 
 
 Sede peregrina quaeris egenus opem. 
 Patria dura parens, et saxis saevior albis 
 
 Spumea quae pulsat littoris unda tui, 
 Siccine te decet innocuos exponere foetus, 
 
 Siccine in externam ferrea cogis humum, 90 
 
 Et sinis ut terris quadrant alimenta remotis 
 
 Quos tibi prospiciens miserat ipse Deus, 
 Et qui laeta ferunt de coelo nuntia, quique 
 
 Qua; via post cineres ducat ad astra, docent ? 
 Digna quidem Stygiis quae vivas clausa tenebris 95 
 
 jEternaque animse digna perire fame ! 
 Haud aliter vates terrae Thesbitidis olim 
 
 Pressit inassueto devia tesqua pede, 
 Desertasque Arabum salebras, dum regis Achabi 
 
 EfFugit atque tuas, Sidoni dira, manus. 100 
 
 Talis et horrisono laceratus membra flagello, 
 
 Paulus ab y^mathia pellitur urhe Cilix. 
 Piscosaeque ipsum Gergessae civis lesum 
 
 Finibus ingratus jussit abire suis. 
 At tu sume animos, nee spes cadat anxia curis, 105 
 
 Nee tua concutiat decolor ossa metus. 
 Sis etenim quamvis fulgentibus obsitus armis, 
 
 Intententque tibi millia tela necem, 
 At nullis vel inerme latus violabitur armis. 
 
 Deque tuo cuspis nulla cruore bibet. 110 
 
 Namque eris ipse Dei radiante sub aegide tutus, 
 
 lUe tibi custos, et pugil ille tibi ; 
 Ille Sionaeae qui tot sub moenibus arcis 
 
 Assyrios fudit nocte silente viros ; 
 Inque fugam vertit quos in Samaritidas eras 115 
 
 Misit ab antiquis prisca Damascus agris, 
 Terruit en densas pavido cum rege cohortes, 
 
 Acre dum vacuo buccina clara sonat. 
 
POEMATa. 513 
 
 Cornea pulvereum dum yerberat ungula campuui, 
 
 Currus arenosam dum quatit actus hunium, 120 
 Auditurque hinnitus equorum ad bella ruentum, 
 
 Et strepitus ferri, murmuraque alta virum. 
 Et tu (quod superest miseris) sperare memento, 
 
 Et tua mag-nanimo pectore vince mala ; 
 Nee dubites quandoque frui melioribus annis, 125 
 
 Atque iterum patrios posse videre lares. 
 
 E LEG I A Q UINTA. 
 
 (Anno iEtatis 20.) 
 In adicntum veris. 
 
 In se perpetuo Tempus revc..nbile gyro 
 
 Jam revocat Zephyros vere tepente nOTOS j 
 Induiturqiie brevem Tellus reparata juventam, 
 
 Jamque soluto gelu dulce virescit humus. 
 Fallor ? an et nobis redeunt in carmina yii'es, 5 
 
 Ingeniumque mihi munere veris adest 1 
 Munere veris adest, iterumqae vigescit ab illo 
 
 (Quis putet) atque aliquod jam sibi poscit opus. 
 Castalis ante oculos, bifidumque cacumen oberrat, 
 
 Et mihi Pyrenen somnia nocte ferunt; IC 
 
 Concitaque arcano fervent mihi pectora motu, 
 
 Et furo, et sonitus me sacer intus agit. 
 Delius ipse venit, video Peneide lauro 
 
 Implicitos crines, Delius ipse venit. 
 Jam mihi mens liquidi raptatur in ardua coeli, 15 
 
 Perque vagas nubes corpore liber eo ; 
 Perque umbras, perque antra feror penetralia vatum 
 
 Et mihi fana patent interiora Deum ; 
 Intuiturque animus to to quid agatur Olympo, 
 
 Nee fugiunt oculos Tartax'a csca meos. 20 
 
 Quid tarn grande sonat distento spiritua ore? 
 
 Quid parit hasc rabies, quid sacer iste furor? 
 Ver r[\ihi, quod dedit ingenium, cantabitur illo; 
 
 Profueriut isto reddita dona modo. 
 Jam Philomela tuos foliis adoperta novellis, 25 
 
 Instituis modules, dum silet omne nemus : 
 Urbe ego, tu sylva, simul incipiamus utrique, 
 
 Et simul adventum veris uterque canat. 
 Z2 
 
614 POEMATA. 
 
 Veris io rediere vices, celebremus honores 
 
 Veris, et hoc subeat Musa perennis opus. 30 
 
 Jam sol ^thiopas fugiens Tithoniaque ai'va, 
 
 Flectit ad Arctoas aurea lora plagas. 
 Est breve noctis iter, brevis est mora noctis opacae, 
 
 Horrida cum tenebi'is exulat ilia suis. 
 Jamque Lycaonius plaustrum coeleste Bootes 35 
 
 Non longa sequitur fessus ut ante via ; 
 Nunc etiam solitas circum Jovis atria toto 
 
 Excubias agitant sidera i-ara polo ; 
 Nam dolus, et caedes, et vis cum nocte recessit. 
 
 Neve Gig-anteum Dii timuere scelus. 40 
 
 Forte aliquis scopuli reeubans in vertice pastor, 
 
 Roscida cum primo sole rubescit humus, 
 Haec, ait, hac certe caruisti nocte puella, 
 
 Phoebe, tua, celeres quae retineret equos. 
 Lseta suas repetit sylvas, phareti*amque resumit 45 
 
 Cynthia, Luciferas ut videt alta rotas; 
 Et tenues ponens radios gaudere videtur 
 
 Officium fieri tam breve fratris ope. 
 Desere, Phoebus ait, thalamos Aurora seniles. 
 
 Quid juvat efFoeto procubuisse toro '? 50 
 
 Te manet iEolides viridi venator in herba, 
 
 Surge, tuos ignes altus Hymettus habet. 
 Flava verecundo dea crimen in ore fatetur, 
 
 Et matutinos ocius urget equos. 
 Exuit invisum Tellus rediviva senectam, 55 
 
 Et cupit amplexus, Phoebe, subire tuos ; 
 Et cupit, et digna est, quid enim formosius ilia, 
 
 Pandit ut omniferos luxuriosa sinus, 
 Atque Arabum spirat messes, et ab ore venusto 
 
 Mitia cum Paphiis fundit amoma rosis ! 60 
 
 Ecce coronatur sacro frons ardua luco, 
 
 Cingit ut Idaeam pinea turris Oj)im ; 
 Et vario madidos intexit flore capillos, 
 
 Floribus et visa est posse placere suis. 
 Floribus effusos ut erat redimita capillos 65 
 
 Tenario placuit diva Sicana Deo. 
 Aspice, Phoebe, tibi faciles hortantur amores, 
 
 Mellitasque movent flam in a verna preces. 
 Cinnamea Zephyrus leve plaudit odorifer ala, 
 
 Blanditiasque tibi ferre videntur aves. 70 
 
POEMATA. 515 
 
 Nee sine dote tuos temeraria qixserit amores 
 
 Terra, iiec optatos poscit egena toros ; 
 Alma salutiferum medicos tibi gramen in usus 
 
 Prsebet, et hinc titulos adjuvat ipsa tuos. 
 Qu6d si te pretium, si te fulgentia tangunt 75 
 
 Munera, (muneribus saepe coemptus Amor) 
 Ilia tibi ostentat quascunque sub squoi'e vasto, 
 
 Et super injectis raiontibus abdit opes. 
 Ah quoties cum tu clivoso fessus Olympo 
 
 In verspertinas prsecipitaris aquas, 80 
 
 Cur te, inquit, cursu languentem, Phoebe, diurno 
 
 Hesperiis recipit Cserula mater aquis ? 
 Quid tibi cum Tetby? Quid cum Tartesside lympha, 
 
 Dia quid imundo perluis ora salo "? 
 Frigora, Phoebe, mea melius captabis in umbra, 85 
 
 Hue ades, ardentes imbue rore comas. 
 Mollior egelida veniet tibi somnus in herba, 
 
 Hue ades, et gremio lumina pone meo. 
 Quaque jaces circum mulcebit leue susurrans 
 
 Aura, per humentes co -pora fusa rosas. 90 
 
 Nee me (crede mihi) terrent Semeleia fata. 
 
 Nee Phaetonteo fumidus axis equo ; 
 Cum tu, Phoebe, tuo sapientius uteris ig-ni. 
 
 Hue ades, et g-remio lumina pone meo. 
 Sic Tellus lasciva suos suspirat amores ; 95 
 
 Matris in exemplum ceetera turba ruunt. 
 Nunc etenim toto currit vagus orbe Cupido, 
 
 Languentesque tbvet solis ab igne faces. 
 Insonuere novis lethalia cornua nervis, 
 
 Triste micant feri'o tela corusca novo> 100 
 
 Jamque vel invictam tentat superasse Dianam, 
 
 Quaeque sedet sacro Vesta pudica foco. 
 Ipsa senescentem reparat Venus annua formam, 
 
 Atque itemm tepido creditur orta mari. 
 Marmoreas juvenes clamant Hymenaee per urbes, 
 
 Littus, io Hymen, et cava saxa sonant. 106 
 
 Cultior ille venit tunicaque decentior apta, 
 
 Puniceum redolet vestis odora crocum. 
 Eg-rediturque frequens ad amoeni gaudia veris 
 
 Virgineos auro cincta puella sinus : 110 
 
 Votum est cuique suum, votum est tamen omnibus 
 
 Ut sibi quem cupiat, det Cytherea virum. [unum, 
 Nunc quoque septena modulatur arundine pastor 
 
516 POEMATA. 
 
 Et sua quae jung-at carmina Phyllis liabet. 
 Navita nocturno placat sua sidera cantu, 113 
 
 Delphinasque leves ad vada summa vocat. 
 Jupiter ipse alto cum conjug-e ludit Olympo, 
 
 Convocat et famulos ad sua festa Deos. 
 Nunc etiam Satyri cum sera crepuscula surgunt, 
 
 Pervolitant celeri florea rura choro, 120 
 
 Sylvanusqiie sua cyparissi froiide revinctus, 
 
 Semicaperque Deus, semideusque caper. 
 Quaeque sub arboribus Dryades latuere vetustis, 
 
 Per juga, per solos expatiantur agros. 
 Per sata luxuriant fruticetaque Maenalius Pan, 125 
 
 Vix Cybele mater, vix sibi tuta Ceres ; 
 Atque aliquam cupidus praedatur Oreada Faunus, 
 
 Consulit in trepidos dum sibi nympha pedes, 
 Jamque latet, latitansque cupit male tecta videri, 
 
 Et fugit, et fugiens pervelit ipsa capi. 130 
 
 Dii quoque non dubitant coelo prasponere sylvas, 
 
 Et sua quisque sibi numina lucus habet. 
 Et sua quisque diu sibi numina lucus habeto. 
 
 Nee vos arborea dii precorite domo. 
 Te referant miseris te, Jupiter, aurea terris 135 
 
 Saecla, quid ad nimbos aspera tela redis? 
 Tu saltern lente rapidos ag-e, Phoebe, jugales 
 
 Qua potes, et sensim tempora veris eant ; 
 Brumaque productas tarde ferat hispid a noctes, 
 
 Ingruat et nostro serior umbra polo. 140 
 
 ELEGIA SEXTA. 
 
 Ad Carolum Deodatum I'uri commorantem. 
 
 Qui cum Idibus Decemh. scripsisset, et sua carmina 
 excusari postulasset si solito minus essent bona, 
 quod inter lautitias quibus eru.t ab amicis exceptuSy 
 haud satis felicem operam Musis dare se posse affir- 
 mabat, hoc kabuit responsum. 
 
 MiTTO tibi sanam non pleno ventre salutem, 
 
 Qua tu distento forte carere potes. 
 At taa quid nostram prolectat Musa camoenam, 
 
 ]Sec sinit optatas posse sequi tenebras? 
 Carmine scire velis quam te redamemque colamque, 
 
 Crede mihi vix hoc carmine scire queas. C 
 
POEMATA. 517 
 
 Nam neque nostei' amor modulis includitur arctis. 
 
 Nee venit ad claudos integer ipse pedes. 
 Quam 'bene solennes epulas, hiiaremque Decembrira. 
 
 Festaque coelifugam quai coluere Deum, 10 
 
 Deliciasque refers, hyberni guadia ruris, 
 
 Haustaque per lepidos Gallica musta focos ! 
 Quid quereris refugam vino dapibusque poesin ? 
 
 Carmen amat Bacchum, carmina Bacchus amat. 
 Nee puduit Phoebum virides gestasse corymbos, 15 
 
 Atque hederam laiiro praeposuisse suae. 
 Saepius Aoniis calamavit collibus Euae 
 
 Mista Thyoneo turba novena choro. 
 Naso Corallaeis mala earmina misit ab agi'is : 
 
 Non illic epulae, non sata vitis erat. 20 
 
 Quid nisi vina, rosasque racemiferumque Lyaeum, 
 
 Cantavit brevibus Tela Musa modis ? 
 Pindarieosque inflat numeros Teumesius Euan, 
 
 Et redolet sumptum pagina quasque nierum ; 
 Dum gravis evei'so currus erepat axe supinus, 25 
 
 Et volat Eleo pulvere fuscus eques. 
 Quadriraoque madens Lyricen Romanus laccho 
 
 Dulce canit Glyceran, flavicomamque Chloen. 
 Jam quoque lauta tibi generoso mensa paratu 
 
 Mentis alit vires, ingeniumque fovet. 30 
 
 Massica foesundam despumant pocula venam, 
 
 Fundis et ex ipso condita metra cado. 
 Addimus his artes, fusumque per intima Phoebum 
 
 Corda, favent uni Bacchus, Apollo, Ceres. 
 Scilicet haud mirum tarn dulcia carmina per te 35 
 
 Numine composito, tres perperisse Deos. 
 Nunc quoque Thressa tibi caelato barbitos auro 
 
 Insonat arguta molliter icta manu ; 
 Auditurque chelys suspensa tapetia circum, 
 
 Virgineos tremula quae regat arte pedes. 40 
 
 Ilia tuas saltern teneant spectacula Musas, 
 
 Et revocent, quantum carpula pellit iners. 
 Crede mihi dum psallit ebur, comitataque plectrum 
 
 Implet odoratos festa chorea tholos, 
 Percipies tacitum per pectora serpere Phoebum, 45 
 
 Quale repentinus permeat ossa calor, 
 Perque puellares oculos digitumque sonantera 
 
 Irruet in totos lapsa Thalia sinus. 
 
518 POEMATA. 
 
 Naroque Elegia levis multorum cura Deorum est, 
 
 Et vocat ad nuraeros quemlibet ilia suos ; 50 
 
 Liber adest elegis, Eratoque, Ceresque, Venusque 
 
 Et cum purpurea niatre tenellus Amor. 
 Talibus inde licent coiivivia larga poetis, 
 
 Saepius et veteri commaduisse mero. 
 At qui beila refert, et adulto s\ib Jove cojlum, 55 
 
 Heroasque pios, semideosque duces, 
 Et nunc sancta canit superum consulta deorum, 
 
 Nu.nc latrata fero regiia profunda cane, 
 Ille quidem parce Samii pro more raagistrl 
 
 Vivat, et innocuos prasbeat lierba cibos ; 60 
 
 Stet prope fag-ineo pellucida lympha catillo, 
 
 Sobriaque e puro pocula fonte bibat. 
 Additur huic scelerisque vacans, et casta juventus, 
 
 Et rigidi mores, et sine labe manus. 
 Qualis veste nitens sacra, et lustralibus undis 65 
 
 Surgis ad infensos augur iture Deos. 
 Hoc ritu vixisse ferunt post rapta sagacem 
 
 Lumina Tiresian, Ogyg-iumque Linon, 
 Et lare devoto profugum Calchanta, senemque 
 
 Oi'pheon, edomitis sola per antra feris ; 70 
 
 Sic dapis exiguus, sic rivi potor Homerus 
 
 Dulichium vexit per freta longa \irum, 
 Et per monstrificam Persies Pboebados aulam, 
 
 Et vada foemineis insidiosa sonis, 
 Perque tuas, rex ime, domos, ubi sanguine nigro 75 
 
 Dicitur umbrarum detinuisse greges. 
 Diis etenim sacer est vates, divumque sacei'dos, 
 
 Spirat et occultum pectus, et ora Jovem. 
 At tu siquid agam scitabere (si modo saltern 
 
 Esse putas tanti noscere siquid agam) 80 
 
 Paciferum canimus coelesti semine regeiii, 
 
 Faustaque sacratis seecula pacta libris, 
 Vagitumque Dei, et stabulentem paupere tecto 
 
 Qui suprema suo cum patre regna colit, 
 Stelliparumque polum,modulantesque sethere turmas, 
 
 Et subito elisos ad sua fan a Deos. 86 
 
 Dona quidem dedimus Cliristi natalibus ilia. 
 
 Ilia sub auroram lux mihi prima tulit. 
 Te quoque pressa manent patriis meditata cicutis, 
 
 Tu mihi, cui recitem, judicis instar eris. 90 
 
POEYiATA. fAO 
 
 ELEGIA SEPTIMA. 
 
 (Anno vEtatis 19.) 
 
 NoNDUM blanda tuas leges, Amathusia, ndram, 
 
 Et Paphio vacuum pectus ab igne fuit. 
 Sajpe cupidineas, puerilia tela, sag-ittas, 
 
 Atque tuum sprevi maxime nuraen Amor. 
 Tu puer imbelles, dixi, traiisfige columbas, 5 
 
 Conveniunt tenero mollia bella duel. 
 Aixt de passeribus tumidos age, parve, triumphos, 
 
 Haec sunt militiae digna trophsea tuae. 
 In genus humanum quid inania dirigis arma ? 
 
 Non valet in fortes ista pharetra viros. 10 
 
 Non tulit hoc Cyprius, (neque enim Deus ullus ad iras 
 
 Promptior) et duplici jam ferus igne calet. 
 Ver erat, et summas radians per culraina villas 
 
 Attulerat primam lux tibi, Male, diem : 
 At mihi adhuc refugam quaerebant lumina noctem, 
 
 Nee matutinum sustinuere jubar. 16 
 
 Astat Amor lecto, pictis Amor impiger alis, 
 Prodi dit astantem moto pharetra Deum ; 
 Prodidit et facies, et dulce minantis ocelli, 
 
 Et quicquid puero dignum et Amore fuit. 20 
 
 Talis in eterno juvenis Sigeius Olympo 
 
 Miscet amatori pocula plena Jovi ; 
 Aut qui formosas pellexit ad oscula nymphas 
 
 Thiodamantaeus Naiade raptus Hylas. 
 Addideratque iras, sed et has decuisse putares, 25 
 
 Addideratque truces, nee sine felle, minas. 
 Et miser exemplo sapuisses tutiiis, inquit. 
 
 Nunc mea quid possit dextera testis eris. 
 Inter et expertos vires numerabere nostras, 
 
 Et faciam vero per tua damn a fidem. 30 
 
 Ipse ego, si nescis, strato Pythone siiperbum 
 
 Edomui Phoebum, cessit et illi mihi ; 
 Et quoties meminit Peneidos, ipse fatetur 
 
 Certius et graviiis tela nocere mea. 
 Me nequid adductum curvare peritiiis areum, 35 
 
 Qui post terga solet vincere Parthus eques : 
 Cydoniusque mihi ceclit venator, et ille 
 Inscius uxori qui necis author erat. 
 
620 POEMATA. 
 
 Est etiarn nobis ing-ens quoque victus Orion, 
 
 Herculeseque manus, Herculeusque comes. 40 
 
 Jupiter ipse licet sua fulmina torqaeat in me, 
 
 Hgerebunt lateri spicula nostra Jovis. 
 Ceetera qua? dubitas melius mea tela docebunt ? 
 
 Et tua non leviter corda patenda mibi. 
 Nee te, stulte, tuae poterunt defendere Musae 45 
 
 Nee tibi Phoebaeus porriget anguis opera. 
 Dixit, et aiirato quatiens mucrone sagittam, 
 
 Evolat in tepidos Cypridos ille sinus. 
 At mihi risuro tonuit ferus ore niinaci, 
 
 Et mihi de puero non metus ullus erat. 50 
 
 Et mod6 qua nostri spatiantur in urbe Quirites, 
 
 Et modd villarum proxima rura placent. 
 Turba frequens, facieque simillima turba dearum 
 
 Splendida per medias itque reditque vias. 
 Auctaque luce dies gemirio fulg'ore coruscat, 55 
 
 Pallor ? an et radios bine quoque Pboebus habet '{ 
 Haec eg"0 non fugi spectacula grata severus. 
 
 Impetus et quo me fert juvenilis, agor. 
 Luniina luminibus male pi'ovidus obvia misi, 
 
 Neve oculos potuit continuisse meos. 60 
 
 Unam forte aliis supereminuisse notabam, 
 
 Principium nostri lux erat ilia mali. 
 Sic Venus optaret mortalibus ipsa videri, 
 
 Sic reg-ina Deum conspicienda fuit. 
 Hanc memor objecit nobis malus ille Cupido, 65 
 
 Solus et hos nobis texuit ante dolos. 
 Nee procul ipse vafer latuit, multa^que sagittae, 
 
 Et facis a tergo grande pependit onus. 
 Nee mora, nunc ciliis hassit, nunc virginis ori, 
 
 Insilit hinc labiis, insidet inde genis : 70 
 
 Et quascunque agilis partes jaculator oberrat, 
 
 Hei mihi, mille locis pectus inerme ferit. 
 Protinus insoliti subierunt corda furores, 
 
 Uror amans iiitus flammaque totus eram. 
 Interea misero quae jam mihi sola placebat, 75 
 
 Ablata est oculis non reditura meis. 
 Ast ego progredior tacit^ querebundus, et excors, 
 
 Et dubius volui saepe referre pedem. 
 Finder et haec remanent : sequitur pars altera votum, 
 
 Raptaque tam subitd gaudia flere juvat. bO 
 
POEM ATA. 521 
 
 Sic dolet amissum proles Junonia caslum, 
 
 Inter Lemniacos prajcipitata focos. 
 Talis et abreptum solem respexit, ad Orcum 
 
 Vectus ab attonitis Amphiaraus equis. 
 Quid faciatn infelix, et luctu victus? amores 85 
 
 Nee licet inceptos ponere, neve sequi. 
 O utinam spectare seniel milsi detur araatos 
 
 Vultus, et coram tristia ^erba loqui ; 
 Forsitan et dure non est adamaute creata, 
 
 Forte nee ad nostras surdeat lUa preces. 90 
 
 Crede mihi, niillus sic infeliciter arsit, 
 
 Ponar in exemplo primus et unus ego. 
 Parce precor, teneri cum sis Deus ales amoris, 
 
 Pugnent olRcio nee tua facta tuo. 
 Jam tuus certe est mihi formidabilis arcus 95 
 
 Nate dea, jaculis nee minus igne potens ; 
 Et tua fumabunt nostris altaria donis, 
 
 Solus et in superis tu mihi summis eris. 
 Deme ineos tandem, verum nee deme, furores, 
 
 Nescio cur, miser est suaviter omnis amans: 100 
 Tu modo da facilis, posthajc mea siqua futura est 
 
 Cuspis amaturos figat ut una duos. 
 
 H^c eg-o, mente olim Iseva, studioque supino, 
 
 Nequitiae posui vana trophsea meae. 
 Scilicet abreptum sic me malus impulit error, 105 
 
 Indoeilisquae etas prava magistra fuit. 
 Donee Socraticas iimbrosa Academia rivos 
 
 Prfebuit, admissum dedocuitque jugum. 
 Protinus extinctis ex illo tempore flammis, 
 
 Cincta rigent multo pectora nostra gelu. 110 
 
 Unde suis frigus metuit puer ipse sagittis, 
 
 Et Diomedeam vim timet ipsa Venus. 
 
522 
 
 EPIGRAM MA TUM LIBER. 
 
 I. — In prodltionem bombardicam. 
 
 Cum simul in regem nuper satrapasque Britannof. 
 
 Ausus es infandum, perfide Fauxe, nefas, 
 Fallor? an et mitis volaisti ex iJarte videvi, 
 
 Et pensare mala cum pietat.e soelus ? 
 Scilicet hos alti missurus ad atria coeli, 5 
 
 Sulphureo curru flammivolisque rotis. 
 Qualiter ilie feris caput inviolabile Parcis 
 
 Liquit lordanios turbine raptus a^os. 
 
 II. — In eandem. 
 
 SicciNE tentasti ccelo donasse liicobum 
 
 Quae septemg-emino Bellua monte lates? 
 Ni roeliora tuum poterit dare munera numen 
 
 Parce, precor, donis insidiosa tuis. 
 Ille quidem sine te consortia serus adivit 5 
 
 Astra, nee inferni pulveris usus ope^ 
 Sic potius foedus in coeium pelle cucullos, 
 
 Et quot habet brutos Roma protana Deos, 
 Namque hac aut alia nisi quemque adjuveris arte, 
 
 Crede mihi, coeli vix bene scandet iter. 10 
 
 III. — In eandem, 
 
 PuRGATOREM animas derisit lacobus ignem, 
 
 Et sine quo superum non adeunda domus. 
 Frenduit hoc trina monstrum Latiale corona;" 
 
 Movit et horrificum cornua dena minax. 
 Et nee insultus ait temnes mea sacra, Britanne, 6 
 
 Supplicium spreta religion e dabis. 
 Et si stelligeras unquam penetraveris arces, 
 
 Non nisi per flammas triste patebit iter. 
 O quam funesto cecinisti proxima vero, 
 
 Verbaque ponderibus vix caritura suis ! 10 
 
 Nam prope Tartareo sublime rotatus ab igni 
 
 Ibat ad lethereas, umbra perusta, plazas. 
 
r 
 
 " .^ POEMATA. " ^ 
 
 lY. -^In eandem. 
 
 QuEM modd Roma suis devorerat impia diris, 
 
 Et Styge damnarat Taenarioque sinu, 
 Hunc, vice mutata, jam toilere gestit ad astra, 
 
 Et cupit ad superos evehere usque Deos. 
 
 V. — In inventorein bombardcB, 
 
 IaPEtionidem laudavit ca?ca vetustas, 
 
 Qui tulit pethereani solis ab axe facem ; 
 At mihi niajoi- ei'it, qui lurida creditur arma, 
 
 Et trifidum fulmen surripuisse Jovi. 
 
 VI. — Ad Leonoram RomcE canentem, 
 
 Angelus unicuique suus (sic credite g-entes) 
 
 Obti?:it aethereis ales ab ordiaibus. 
 Quid mirum ? Leonora, tibi si gloria major? 
 
 Nam tua pr^senteni vox sonat ipsa Deura. 
 Aut Deus, aut vacui certe mens tertia coeli 5 
 
 Per tiia secreto guttura serpit ag-ens ; 
 SeiTpit agens, facilisque docet mortalia corda 
 
 Sensim immortali assuescere posse sono. 
 Quod si cuncta quidem Deus est, per cunctaque fusus, 
 
 In te una loquitur, caetera mutus habet. 10 
 
 YII. — Ad eandem. 
 
 Altera Torquatum cepit Leonora poetam, 
 
 Cujus ab insano cessit amore furens. 
 Ah rniaer ille tuo qua^ito felicius aevo 
 
 Perditus, et propter te, Leonora, foret I 
 Et te Pieria sensisset voce canentem 5 
 
 Aurea maternae fila movere lyrge : 
 Quamvis Dircaeo torsisset lumina Pentheo 
 
 Saevior, aut totus desipuisset iners, 
 Tu tamen errantes caeca vertigine sensus 
 
 Voce eadem poteras oomposuisse tua ; 10 
 
 Et poteras, aeg-ro spirans sub corde, quietem 
 
 Flexanimo cantu restituisse sibi. 
 
524 POEMATA. 
 
 VIII. — Ad ea7idem. 
 
 Creuula quid liqiiidam Sirena Neapoli jacfas, 
 
 Claraque Parthenopes fana Acheloiados, 
 Littoreamque tua defimctam Ts'aiada npa 
 
 Corpora Chalcidico sacra dedisse rogo ? 
 lUa quidem vivitque, et araoena Tibridis unda 5 
 
 Mutavit rauci murmura Pausilipi. 
 Illic Romulidum studiis ornata seciindis, 
 
 Atque homines cantu detinet atoue Deos. 
 
 IX. — Apologus de Rustico et Hero. 
 
 RusTicus ex malo sapidissima poma quotaimis 
 
 Legit, et urbano lecta dedit Domino ; 
 Hinc incredibili fructus dulcedine captus 
 
 Malum ipsam in proprias transtulit areolas. 
 Hactenus ilia ferax, sed longo debilis asvo, 5 
 
 Mota Silo assueto, protenus aret iners. 
 Quod tandem ut patuit Domino, spe lusus inani, 
 
 Damnavit celeres in sua damna manus ; 
 Atque ait, lieu quanto satius fuit ilia Coloni 
 
 (Parva licet) grato dona tulisse animo 1 10 
 
 Possem ego avaritiam fraenare, g-ulamque voracem : 
 
 Nunc periere mihi et foetus et ipse parens. 
 
 X. — Ad Christinam Suecormn Reginam, 
 nomine Cromvjelli. 
 
 Bellipotens Virgo, septem Regina Trionum, 
 
 Christina, Arctoi lucida Stella poli ! 
 Cernis, quas merui dura sub casside rugas, 
 
 Utque senex armis impiger ora tero ; 
 Invia fatorum dum per vestigia nitor, ^ 
 
 Exequor et populi fortia jussa manu. 
 Ast tibi submittit frontem reverentior umbra 
 
 Nee sunt hi vultus Regibus usque truces. 
 
525 
 
 
 SYLVARUM LIBER 
 
 
 Inobitum Procancellarii, medicu 
 
 
 (Anno .Etatis 17.) 
 
 
 Parere fati discite legibus, 
 
 
 Man usque Parcae jam date supplices 
 
 
 Qui pendulum telluris orbera 
 
 
 lape^e collitis nepotes. 
 
 
 Vos si relicto mors vaga Taenaro 
 
 5 
 
 Semel vocarit flebilis, heu raorae 
 
 
 Tentantur incassum, dolique ; 
 
 
 Per tenebras Stygis ire certum est. 
 
 
 Si destinatam pellere dextera 
 
 
 Mortem valeret, non ferus Hercules, 
 
 10 
 
 Nessi veneiiatus cruore. 
 
 
 y^^mathia jacui'sset Oeta. 
 
 
 Nee fraude turpi Palladis invidse 
 
 
 Vidisset occisum Ilion Hectora, aut 
 
 
 Quern larva Pelidis peremit 
 
 lb 
 
 Ense Locro, Jove lacrymante. 
 
 
 Sic triste fatum verba Hecateia 
 
 
 Fugare possint, Tellegoni parens 
 
 
 Vixisset infamis, potentique 
 
 
 ^giali soror usa virga. 
 
 20 
 
 Numenque trinum fallere si queant 
 
 
 ^Artes medentum, ignotaque gramina. 
 
 
 Non gnarus herbarum Machaon 
 
 
 Eurypyli cecidisset basta. 
 
 
 Ljpsisset nee te, Philyreie, 
 
 25 
 
 Sagitta Echidnse perlita sanguine, 
 
 
 Nee tela te fulmenque avitum 
 
 
 Csese puer genetricis alvo. 
 
 
 Tuque alumno major Apolline, 
 
 
 Gentis togatae cui regimen datum, 
 
 HQ 
 
 Frondosa quem nunc Cirrlia luget. 
 
 
 Et mediis Helicon in undis, 
 
 
52G POEMATA 
 
 Jam prsefuisses Palladio gregi 
 Latus, supevstes, nee sine gloria : 
 
 Nee pappe lustrasses Charontis 35 
 
 Horribiles baratbri recessua. 
 At fila rupit Persepbone tua 
 Irata, cum te viderit, artibus 
 Succoque pollenti, tot atris 
 
 Faucibus eripuisse mortis. 48 
 
 Colende Pi*aeses, membra precor tua 
 Molli quiescant cespite, ct ex tuo 
 Crescant rosae, caltbasque busto, 
 Puipureoque Hyacinthus ore. 
 Sit mite de te jxidicium ^Eaci, 45 
 
 Subrideatque ^Etuaea Pi'oserpina, 
 Interque felices perennis 
 Eiysio spatiere campo. 
 
 In Quintum Novembrls. 
 (Anno ^tatis 17.) 
 Jam pius extrema veniens lacobus ab arcto, 
 Teucrigenas populos, lateque paten tia regna 
 Albiouum tenuit, jamque inviolabile foedus 
 Sceptia Caledoniis conjunxerat Anglica Scotis : 
 Pacificusque novo felix divesqiie, sedebat 9 
 
 in solio, occultique doli securus et hostis : 
 Cum ferus ignifiuo regnans Acheronte tyrannus, 
 Eumenidum pater, aethereo vagus exul Olympo, 
 Forte per immensum terrarum erraverat orbem, 
 Dinumerans sceleris socios, vernasque fi deles, 10 
 Participes regni post funera moesta futniros ; 
 Hie tempestates medio ciet aere diras. 
 Iliac unanimes odium struit inter amicos, 
 Armat et invictas in mutua viscera gentes ; 
 Regnaque olivifera vertit florentia pace, 15 
 
 Et quoscunque videt puras virtutis amantes, 
 Hos cupit adjicere imperio, fraudumque magister 
 Tentat inaccessum sceleri corrumpere pectus ; 
 Insidiasque locat tacitas, cassesque latentes 
 Tendit, ut incautos rapiat, seu Caspia Tigris 20 
 
 Insequitur trepidam deserta per avia praedain 
 Nocte sub illuni, et somno nictantibus astris. 
 
POEMATA. G27 
 
 Talibus infestat populos Sumraanus et urbea 
 Cinctus caerulea; fumanti turbine flammge. 
 Janique fluentisonis albentia rupibus arva 23 
 
 Apparent, et terra Deo dilecta niarino, 
 Cui nomen dederat quondam Neptunia proles, 
 Amphitryon! aden qui non dubitavit atrocem, 
 iEquore tranato, furiali poscere bello. 
 Ante expugnatae crudelia ssecula Trojse. 30 
 
 At simul banc opibusque et festa pace beatam 
 Aspicit, et pingues donis Cerealibus agros, 
 Quodque magis doluit, venerantem nurnina veri 
 Sancta Dei populum, tandem suspiria rupit 
 Tartareos ig-nes et lurid um olentia sulphur ; 33 
 
 Qualia Trinacria truxa ab JoA^e clausus in ^tna 
 Efflat tabifico monstrosus ab ore Tiphoeus. 
 Ignescunt oculi, stride tque adamantinus ordo 
 Dentis, ut armoram fragor, ictaque cuspide cus^ is 
 Atque pererrato solum hoc lacrymabile mundo 40 
 ' Inveni, dixit, gens base mihi sola rebellis, 
 Contemtrixque jugi, nostraque potentior arte. 
 Ilia tamen, mea si quicquam tentamina possunt, 
 Non feret hoc irapune diu, non ibit inulta. 
 Hactenus ; et piceis liquido natat aere pennis ; 43 
 Qua volat, adversi praecursant agmine Yenti, 
 Densantur nubes, et crebra tonitrua fulgent. 
 
 Jamque pruinosas velox superaverat Alpes, 
 Et tenet Ausoniae fines : a parte sinistra 
 Nimbifer Appenninus erat, priscique Sabini, 50 
 
 Dextra venificiis infamis Hetruria, nee non 
 Te furtiva, Tibris, Thetidi videt oscula dantem ; 
 Hinc Mavortigenae consistit in arce Quirini. 
 Reddiderant dubiam jam sera crepuscula lucem, 
 Cum circumg-reditur totam Tricoronifer urbem, 55 
 Panificosque Deos portat, scapulisqne virorum 
 Evehitur, praeeunt submisso poplite reges, 
 Et mendicantum series longissima fratrura ; 
 Cereaque in manibus gestant funalia cseci, 
 Cirameriis nati in tenebris, vitamque trahentes. 60 
 Templa dein multis subeunt lucentia taedis 
 (Vesper erat sacer iste Petro) fremitusque canentiim 
 S pe tholos implet vacuos, et inane locorum. 
 Qualiter exululat Bromius, Bromiique caterva. 
 
528 POEMaTA, 
 
 Orgia cantantes in Echionio Aracyntho, 05 
 
 Dum tremit attonitus vitreis Asopus in undis, 
 Et pvocul ipse cava responsat rupe Cithaeron. 
 
 His igitur tandem soleiini more peractis, 
 Nox senis amplexus Erebi taciturna reliquit, 
 Prsecipitesque impellit equos stimulante iiagello, 70 
 Captum oculis Typhlonta, Melanclisetemque ferocem 
 Atque AcherontEeo prognatam patre Siopen 
 Torpidam, et hirsutis horrentem i'hrica capillis. 
 Interea regum domitor, Phleg'etontius hseres 
 Ingreditur thalamos (neque enim secretus ad\Jter 75 
 Product steriles moUi sine pellice noctes) 
 At vix composites somnus claudebat oceilos, 
 Cum nig'er umbrarum doniinus, rect'orque silentum, 
 Praedatorque liominura falsa sub imag-iae tectus 
 Astitit ; assumptis micuerunt tempora canis, 80 
 
 Bai'ba sinus promissa tegit, ciueracea longo 
 Syrmate verrit humuni vestis, peudetque ciicuilus 
 Vertice de raso, et ne quicquam desit ad artes^ 
 Cannabeo lumbos constrixit fiine salaces. 
 Tarda fenestratis fig'ens vestig-ia calceis. 85 
 
 Talis, uti fama est, vasta Fransciscus eremo 
 Tetra vag'abatur solus per lustra ferarum, 
 Sylvestrique tulit g'enti pia verba salutis 
 Impius, atque lupos domuit, Lybicosque leones. 
 
 Subdolus at tali Serpens velatus aniictu 90 
 
 Solvit in has tallax ora execratia voces; 
 Dormis nate ? Etiamne tuos sopor opprimit artus 1 
 Immemor, O lidei, pecorumque oblite tuorum ! 
 Dum catliedram,venerande,tuain,diademaque triplex 
 Ridet Hyperboreo gens barbara nata sub axe, C5 
 Dumque pharetrati spernunt tua jura Bi-itanni : 
 Surg'e, age, surge piger, Latinus quera Caesar adorat, 
 Cui reserata patet convex! janua cc«li, 
 Turgentes animos, et fastus frange procaces, 
 Racrilegique sciant, tua quid maledictio possit. KV 
 Et quid Apostolicte possit custodia clavis ; 
 Et memor Hesperite disjectam ulciscere classeni, 
 Mersaque Iberorum lato vexilla profundo, 
 Sanctorumque cruci tot corpora fixa probosae 
 Thermodoontea nuper regnante puella. lOf 
 
 Ai tu si tenero mavis torpescere lecto. 
 
POEM ATA. 529 
 
 Cresccntesque neg-as hosti contundere vires ; 
 Tyrrhenum implebit numeroso milite pontum, 
 Signaque Aveiitino ponet fulgentia coUe : 
 Keliquias vetei'am frang'et, flammisque cremaljit, 110 
 Sacraque calcabit pedibus tua coll a profanis, 
 Cujus g-audebant soleis dare basia reges. 
 Nee tamen hunc belHs et aperto Marte lacesses, 
 Irritus ille labor ; tu callidus utere fraude : 
 Quaelibet hasreticis dispoiiere retia fas est; 115 
 
 Jamque ad consilium extremis rex mag-nus ab oris 
 Patricios vocat, et procerum de stirpe creates, 
 Grandaevosque patres trabea, canisque verendos ; 
 Hos tu memibratini poteris conspergere in auras, 
 Atque dare in cineres, nitrati pulveris igiie 120 
 
 ^dibus injecto, qua convenere, sub imis. 
 Protinus ipse igitur quoscunque habet Anglia Mos 
 Propositi, factique, mone : quisquamne tuorura 
 Audebit summi non jussa facessere Papae ? 
 Perculsosque metu subito, casiique stupentes 125 
 
 Invadat vel Gallus atrox, vel sasvus Iberus. 
 Ssecula sic illic tandem Mariana redibunt, 
 Tuque in belligeros iteruni dominaberis Anglos. 
 Et nequid timeas, divos divasque secundas 
 Accipe, quotque tuis celebrantur numina fastis. 130 
 Dixit, et adscitos ponens malefidus amictus 
 Fug-it ad infandam, reg'num illaetabile, Lethen. 
 
 Jam rosea Eoas pandens Tithonia portas 
 Vesti inauratas redeunti lumine terras; 
 Moestaque adhuc nigri deplorans fun era nati 135 
 
 Irrigat ambrosiis montana cacumina guttis: 
 Cum somnos pepulit stellata? janitor aula?, 
 Nocturnos visus, et somnia grata revolvens. 
 
 Est locus a^terna septus caligine noctis, 
 Vasta I'uinosi quondam fundaTuina tecti, 140 
 
 Nunc torvi spelunca Phoni, Prodotceque bilinguis, 
 EfFera quos uno peperit Discordia partu. 
 Hie inter cajmeiita jacet prajru^taqxie saxa, 
 Ossa inhuraata virum, et trajecta cadavera ferrc ; 
 Hie dolus intortis semper sedet ater ocellis, 145 
 
 Jurgiaque, et stimulis armata Cal-^imnia fauces, 
 Et Furor, atque viee moriendi mille videntur, 
 Et timor, exsanguisque locum circuravolat Horror; 
 2 A 
 
630 POEMATA 
 
 Perpetuoque leves per muta silentia Manes 
 
 Exululant, tellus et sanguine conscia stagnat. 150 
 
 Ipsi etiain pavidi latitaut peueti-alibus antri 
 
 Et Plionos, et Prodotes, nulloque sequente per antrum. 
 
 Antrum horrens, scopulosum, atruni feralibus umbris, 
 
 Diffugiunt sontes, et retrd luniina vortuut; 
 
 Hos pugiles Romae per sa?cula longa fideles 155 
 
 Evocat antistes Babylonius, atque ita fatur. 
 
 Finibus occiduis circumfusum incolit eequor 
 Gens exosa mihi ; prudens natura ne^'avit 
 Indignam penitus nostro conjungere mundo : 
 lUuc, sic jubeo, celeri contendite gressu, 160 
 
 Tartareoque leves difflentur pulvere in auras 
 Et rex et pariter satrapa^, scelerata propago : 
 Et quotquot fidei calueve cupidine verae, 
 Consilii sccios adhibete, operisque niinistros. 
 Finierat, rigidi cnpide paruere gemelli. 165 
 
 Interea longo flectens curvamine coelos 
 Despicit astherea dominus qui fulgurat arce, 
 Vanaque perversae ridet conamina turbse, 
 Atque sui causam populi volet ipse tueri. 
 
 Esse ferunt spatiura, qua distat ab Aside terra 170 
 Fertilis Europe, et spectat Mareotidas undas ; 
 Hie turris posita est Titanidos ardua Famae 
 JEre-a, lata, sonans, rutilis vicinior astris 
 Quam superimpositum vel Athos vel Pelion Ossae. 
 Mille fores aditusque patent, totidemque fenestras, 
 Amplaque per tenues translucent atria niuros : 176 
 Excitat hie varios plebs agglomerata susurros ; 
 Qualiter instrepitant circum mulctralia bombis 
 Agraina muscarum, aut texto per ovilia junco, 
 Dum canis aestivum coeli petit ardua culnien. 180 
 Ipsa quidem surania sedet ultrix i!natris in arce, 
 Auribus innumeris cinctum caput eniinet olli, 
 Queis sonituni exiguum trahit, atque levissima captat 
 Murmura, ab extremis patuli confinibus orbis. 
 Nee tot, Aristoride servator inique juvencae 185 
 
 Isidos, immiti volvebas lumina vultu, 
 Lumina non unquam tacito nuntantia somno, 
 Lumina subjectas late spectantia terras. 
 Istis ilia solet loca luce carentia saepe 
 Perhistrare, etiam radianti impervia soli : 190 
 
POEMATA. 531 
 
 Millenisqiie loquax auditaque visaque Unguis 
 Cuilibet elFundit temeraria ; veraque mendax 
 Nunc minuit, modo confictis sermoiiibus auget. 
 
 Sed tamen a nostro meruisti carmine laudes 
 Fania, bonum quo non aliud veracius ullum, 195 
 
 Nobis digna cani, nee te memorasse pigebit 
 Carmine tarn longo ; servati scilicet Angli 
 Officiis, vaga diva, tuis, tibi reddimus aequa. 
 Te Deus, aeternos motu qui temperat ignes, 
 Fulniine praemisso alloquitur, terraque tremente : 200 
 Fama siles 1 an te latet impia Papistarum 
 Conjurata cohors in meque meosque Britannos, 
 .Et nova sceptigero caedes meditata lacobo? 
 Nee plura, ilia statim sensit mandata Tonantis 
 Et satis ante fugax stridentis induit alas, 205 
 
 Induit et variis exilia corpora plumis ; 
 Dextra tubam gestat Temesaeo ex sere sonoram. 
 Nee mora, jam pennis cedentes remigat auras, 
 Atque parum est eursu celeres praivertere nubes, 
 Jam ventos, jam solis equos post terga reliquit: 210 
 Et primo Angliacas, solito de more, per urbes 
 Ambiguas voces, incertaque murmura spargit, 
 Mox arguta dolos, et detestabile vulgat 
 Proditionis opus, nee non facta horrida dictu, 
 Authoresque addit seeleris, nee garnila caecis 215 
 Insidiis loca structa silet ? stupuere i-elatis, 
 Et pariter juvenes, pariter tremuere puellas, 
 Effoetique senes pariter, tantajque ruinae 
 Sensus ad setatem subito penetraverit omnem. 
 
 Attamen interea populi miserescit ab alto 220 
 
 ^thereus pater, et crudelibus obstitit ausis 
 Papicolum ; capit poenas raptantur ad acres; 
 At pia thura Deo, et grati solvuntur honores ; 
 Compita laeta focis genialibus omnia fumant ; 224 
 Tui-ba chores juvenilis agit : Quintoque Novembris 
 Nulla dies toto occurrit celebratior anno. 
 
532 POEMATA. 
 
 Jn ohitum Pr<psulis Eliensis, 
 (Anno iEtatis 17.) 
 Adhuc "macleatcs rore squalebant genae, 
 
 Et sicca noiidum luniina 
 Adhiic liqueiitis imbi'e turgebant salis. 
 
 Quern nuper etfudi pius, 
 Dum moesta charo justa persolvi rogo t 
 
 Wintoniensis Pra^sulis. 
 Cum centiling-Tiis Fania (proh ! semper mail 
 
 Cladisque vera nuntia) 
 Spargit per urbes divitis Britanniae, 
 
 Populosque Neptune satos, 10 
 
 Cessisse morti, et ferreis sororibus 
 
 Te generis human i decus, 
 Qui rex sacroioim ilia fuisti in insula 
 
 Quae noineii Anguillce tenet. 
 Tunc inquietum pectus ira protinus 15 
 
 Ebulliebat fervida, 
 Tumulis potentem saepe devovens deam : 
 
 Nee vota Naso in Ibida 
 Concepit alto diriora pectore ; 
 
 Graiusque vates parcius 20 
 
 Turpem Lycanibis execratus est doluni, 
 
 Sponsamque Neobolen suam. 
 At ecce diras ipse dum fundo g'raves, 
 
 Et imprecor neci neceni, 
 Audisse tales videor attonitus sonos 2.5 
 
 Leni, sub aura, flamine : 
 Caecos furores pone, pone vitream 
 
 Bilemque, et irritas minas, 
 Quid temere violas non nocenda laumina, 
 
 Subitoque ad iras percita? 30 
 
 Non est, ut arbitraris elusus miser. 
 
 Mors atra Noctis filia, 
 Ereb6ve patre creta, sive Erinnye, 
 
 Vastove nata sub Chao: 
 Ast ilia coelo raissa stellato, Dei 35 
 
 Messes ubique coUigit ; 
 Animasque mole carnea reconditas 
 
 In lucem et auras evocat; 
 
POEMATA. 5g3 
 
 Vt cum fu^aces excitant Horse diem 
 
 Theniidos Jovisque filise ; 40 
 
 Et sempiterni ducit ad vultus patris : 
 
 At justa raptat impios 
 Sub reg-na furvi luctuosa Tartari, 
 
 Sedesque subterraneas, 
 Hanc ut vocantem laetus audivi, cito 45 
 
 Foedutn reliqui carcerem, 
 VolatilesqTie faustus inter milites 
 
 Ad astra sublirais feror : 
 Vates ut dim raptus ad coelum senex 
 
 Auriga currus ig-nei. 50 
 
 Non me Bootis terruere lucidi 
 
 Sarraca tarda frigore, aut 
 Formidolosi scorpions brachia, 
 
 Non ensis Orion tuus. 
 Prsetervolavi fulgidi solis globum 55 
 
 Longeque sub pedibus deam 
 Vidi ti-iformera, dum coercebat sue 
 
 Frsenis dracones aureis. 
 Erraticorum, siderum per ordines 
 
 Per lecteas vehor plagas, 60 
 
 Velocitatem saspe miratus novam*, 
 
 Donee nitentes ad fores 
 Ventum est Olympi, et regiam crystallinam, et 
 
 Stratum smaragdis atrium. 
 Sed hie tacebo, nam quis efFari queat 65 
 
 Oriundus humane patre, 
 Amoenitates illius loci ? mihi 
 
 Sat est in eternum frui. 
 
 Naturam non pafi senium. 
 
 Heu quam perpetuis erroribus acta fatiscit 
 
 Avia mens hominum, tenebrisque immersa profundi^ 
 
 CEdipodioniam volvit sub pectore noctem ! 
 
 Quas vesana suis metiri facta deorum 
 
 Audet, et incisas leges adamante perenni 5 
 
 Assimiiare suis, nulloque solubile sseclo 
 
 Consilium fati perituris alligat horis. 
 
 Ergone marcescet sulcant.ibus obsita rugia 
 Natures facies, et rerum publica mater 
 
534 POEMATA. 
 
 Omniparum contracta uteram sterilescet ixh aero? 10 
 Et se fassa senem male certis passibus ibit 
 Sidereum tremebunda caput ? num tetra vetustas 
 Annoruriique seterna fames, squallorque situsquc 
 Sidei-a vexabunt? an et insatiabile Tempiis 
 Esuriet Coeliim, rapietque in viscera patrem 1 15 
 
 Heu, potnitne suas imprudens Jupiter arces 
 Hoc contra raunisse nefas, et Temporis isto 
 Exemisse malo, g-yrosque dedisse perennes ? 
 Ergo erit ut quandoque sono dilapsa tremendo 
 Coiivexi tabulata ruant, atque obvius ictu 20 
 
 Stridet uterque polus, superaque ut Olympius aula 
 Decidat, horribilisque retecta Gorgone Pallas; 
 Quails in ^geam proles Jimonia Lemnon 
 Deturbata sacro cecidit de limine coeli 1 
 Tu quoque Phoebe, tui casus imitabere nati 25 
 
 Praicipiti cun'u, subitaque ferere ruina 
 Pronus, et extincta fumabit lampade Nereus, 
 Et dabit attonito feralia sibila ponto. 
 Tunc etiam aerei divulsus sedibus Haemi 
 DissuJtabit apex, imoque allisa barathro 30 
 
 Terrebunt Stygium dejecta Ceraunia Diteni, 
 In superort quibus usus erat, fratemaque bella. 
 At Pater omnipotens, fundatis fortius astris, 
 Consuluit rerum summa?, certoque peregit 
 Pondere fatorum lances, atque ordine summo 35 
 
 Singula perpetuum jussit servare tenorem. 
 Volvitur hinc lapsu mundi rota prima diurno ; 
 Raptat et ambitos socia vertigine cuelos. 
 Tardior haud solito Saturnus, et acer ut olim 
 Fulmineum rutilat cristata casside Mavors. 40 
 
 Floridus aeternum Phoebus juvenile coruscat, 
 Nee fovet effoetas loca per declivia terras 
 Bevexo temone Deus ; sed semper arnica 
 Lvice potens, eadem currit per signa rotarum 
 Surgit odoratis pariter formosis ab Indis, 45 
 
 jEthereum pecus albenti qui cogit Olympo 
 Mane vocans, et serus age^ns in pasciia coeli; 
 Temporis et g-emino disperdt reg-na colore. 
 Fulget, obitque vices alterno Delia cornu, 
 Ca^ruleumque ignein paribus complectitur ulnis. 50 
 Nee variant elementa fidem, solitoque fragore 
 
POEMATA. 535 
 
 Lurida perculsas jaculantur fulmina rupes. 
 Nee per inane furit leviori miirmure Corxis, 
 Stringit et armiferos sequali horrore Gelonos 54 
 
 Trux Aquilo, spiratque hyemem, nimbosque volutat. 
 Utque solet, Siculi diverberat ima Pelori 
 Rex maris, et rauca circumstrepit aq^iora concha 
 Oceaui Tubicen, nee vasta mole minorem 
 /Ei^eona ferunt dorso Balearica cete. 
 Sed neque, Terra, tibi saecli vigor ille vetusti 60 
 
 Pi'iscus abest, servatque smim Narcissus odorem, 
 Et puer ille suum tenet, et puer ille, decorem, 
 Phoebe tuusque et Cypri tans, nee ditior olim 
 Terra datum sceleri celavit montibus aurum 64 
 
 Conscia, vel sub aquis g-emmas. Sic denique in sevum 
 Ibit cunctanim series j istissima rerum ; 
 Donee flamma orbem populabitur ultima, late 
 Circumplexa polos, et vastL eulmina coeli ; 
 Ingentique rogo flagrabit machina mundi. 09 
 
 De Idea Platonica quemadmodum 
 Aristoteles intellexit. 
 
 DiciTE, sacrorum prsesides neniorum deai 
 
 Tuque O noveni perbeata numinis 
 
 iVfemoria mater, quaeque in iramenso procul 
 
 Antro recumbis otiosa ^ternitas, 
 
 Monumenta servans, et ratas leges Jovis, 5 
 
 Coelique fastos atque ephemeridas Deum, 
 
 Quis ille primus cujus ex imagine 
 
 Natura solers finxit human um g-enus, 
 
 /^^^ternus, ineorruptus, asqitaevus polo, 
 
 Unusque et univei-siis, exemplar Dei? 10 
 
 Haud ille Palladis gemellus innubse 
 
 Interna proles insidet menti Jovis ; 
 
 Sed quamlibet natura sit communior, 
 
 Famen seorsus extat ad morem unius, 
 
 Et, mira, eerto string-itur spatio loci; 15 
 
 Seu sempiternus ille siderum comes 
 
 Coeli pererrat ordines deeemplicis, 
 
 Citimumve terris incolit lunae globum : 
 
 Sive inter animas corpus adituras sedens, 
 
 Obliviosas torpet ad Lethes aquas : W) 
 
636 POEM ATA, 
 
 Sive in remota forte terrarum plag'ti 
 
 Incedit ingens hominis arclietypus g-igftS, 
 
 Kt diis tremendus erigit celsum caput, 
 
 Atlante major portitore siderum. 
 
 Non, cui profundum caecitas lumen dedit, 2«> 
 
 Dircajus aug"ur vidit hunc alto sinu ; 
 
 Non hunc silenti nocte Plelones nepos 
 
 Vatum sagaci praepes ostendit choro ; 
 
 Non hunc sacerdos novit Assjrius, licet 
 
 Longos vetusti commemoret atavos Nini, 30 
 
 Priscumque Belon, inclytunxque Osiridem. 
 
 Non ille trino gloriosus nomine 
 
 Ter magnus Hermes (ut sit arcani sciens) 
 
 Talem reliquit Isidis cultoribus. 
 
 At tu perenne ruris Academi deciis 35 
 
 (Haec monstra si tu primus induxti scholis) 
 
 Jam jam, poetas urbis exules tuas 
 
 Revocabis, ipse fabulator maximus; 
 
 Aut institutor ipse migrabis foras. 39 
 
 A.d Patrem. 
 
 Nunc mea Pierios cnpiam per pectora sontes 
 Irriguas torquere vias, totumque per ora 
 Volvere laxatum gemino de vertice rivum ; 
 Ut tenues oblita sono« audacibus alis 
 Surgat in officium venerandi Musa parentis. f> 
 
 Hoc utcunque tibi gratum, pater optime, carmen 
 Exiguum meditatur opus : nee noviraus ipsi 
 Aptius a nobis quse possint munera donis 
 Respondere tuis, quamvis nee maxima possint 
 Respondere tuis, nedum ut par gratia donis 1^ 
 
 Esse queat, vacuis quaj redditur arida verbis. 
 Sed tamen hasc nostros ostendit pagina census, 
 Et quod habemus opum charta numeravimus ista, 
 Quas mihi sunt nulla, nisi quas dedit aurea Clio, 
 Quas mihi semoto somni perperere sub antro, 1» 
 
 Et nemoris laureta sacri Parnassides umbrae. 
 Nee tu vatis opus divinnm despice carmen, 
 Quo nihil aethereos ortus, et semina cceli, 
 Nil magis humanam commendat origine mentem, 
 Sancta Prometheae retinens vestigia flammas. 20 
 
POEM ATA. 537 
 
 Carmen amant superi,tveraebiindaque Tartara cai'men 
 Ima ciere valet, divosque lig-are profandos, 
 Et triplici duros Manes adaniante coercet. 
 Carmini sepositi retegunt arcana fiituri 
 Phoebades, et tremuUe pallentes ora Sibyllte ; 25 
 
 Carmina sacrificiis sollennes pangit ad aras, 
 A urea seu sternit motantem cornua taurura ; 
 Seu ciim fata sagax fumantibus abdita fibris 
 Consulit, et tepidis Parcam scrutatur in extis. 29 
 Nos etiam patrium tunc eum repeteraus Olympum, 
 JSternaeque morae stabunt immobilis asvi; 
 Ibirnus auratis per coeli templa coronis, 
 Dulcia suaviloque sociantes carmina plectro, 
 Astra quibus, geminique poli convexa sonabunt. 
 Spiritus et rapidos qui circinat igneus orbes, 35 
 
 Nunc quoque sidereis intercinit ipse choreis 
 Immortale melos, et inenarrabile carmen ; 
 Torrid a dum rutilus compescit sibila serpens, 
 Demissoque ferox gladio raansuescit Orion ; 
 Stellarum nee sentit onus Maurusius Atlas. 40 
 
 Carmina regales epulas ornare solebant, 
 Cum nondum luxus, vastseqtie immensa vorag'O 
 Nota guise, et modico spamabat coena Lyeeo. 
 Turn de more sedens festa ad convivia vates, 
 ^sculea intonsos redimitus ab arbore crines, 45 
 
 Heroumque actus, imitandaque gesta canebat, 
 Et chaos, et positi late fundamina mundi, 
 Reptantesque deos, et alentes numina glandes, 
 Et nondum ^tneo quaesitum fulmen ab antro. 
 Denique quid vocis modulamen inane "uviOit 50 
 
 Verborum sensusque vacans, numerique loquacis 1 
 Silvestres decet iste choros, non Orphea cantus, 
 Qui tenuit fluvios, et quercubus addidit aures, 
 Carmine, non cithara; simulachraque funv'ta canendo 
 Compulit in lachrymas ; habet has a carmine laudes. 
 Nee tu perg-e precor, sacras contemnere Musas, 56 
 Nee vanas inopesque puta, quarum ipse peritus 
 Munere, mille sonos numeros componis ad aptos, 
 Millibus et vocen[i modulis variare canoram 
 Doctus, Arionii meritd sis nominis hseres. 00 
 
 Nunc tibi quid mirum, si me genuisse poetani 
 Contig-erit, charo si tam prope sanguine junrti, 
 2 A2 
 
538 POEM ATA. 
 
 Cognatas artes, studiunique affine seqiiamur? 
 Ipse voleiis Phoebus se dispertire duobus, 
 Altera dona mihi, dedit altera dona parenti, 05 
 
 Dividuumque Deum, genitorqiie puerque, tenemus. 
 
 Tu tamen ut simules teneras odisse Camoenas, 
 Non odisse reor; neque enim, pater, ire jubebas 
 Qua via lata patet, qua pronior area lucri, 
 Certaque condendi laiget spes aurea nummi 7Q 
 
 Nee rapis ad lege?, male custoditaque gentis 
 Jura, nee insukis da;nnas clamoribus aures ; 
 Sed magis excultam cupiens ditescere mentem, 
 Me procul urbaao strepitu, secessibus altis 
 Abductum Aoniae jucunda per otia ripf^, 75 
 
 Phoebaeo lateri comitem sinis ire beatum. 
 Oiiiciuni chara taceo commune parentis, 
 Me poscunt niajora : tuo, pater optime, sumptu 
 Ciim mihi Romulete patuit facundia linguae, 
 Et Latii veneres, et quas Jovis era decebant 80 
 
 Grandia magniloquis elata vocabula Graiis, 
 Addere suasisti quos iactat Gallia fiores ; 
 Et quam degeneri novus Italus ore loquelam 
 Fundit, barbaricos testatus voce tumultus, 
 Quseque Palaestinus loquitur mystcria vates. 85 
 
 Denique quicquid habet coelum, sublectaque cozlo 
 Terra parens, terrseque et coelo interfluus aer, 
 Quicquid et unda tegit, pontique agitabile marmor. 
 Per te nosse licet, per te, si nosse libebit : 
 Dimotaque venit spectanda scientia nube, 90 
 
 Nuda que conspicuos inclinat ad oscula vultus, 
 Mi fugisse velim, ni sit libjisse molestum. 
 
 I nunc, confer opes, quisqais inalesanus avitas 
 Austriaci gazas, Periianaque regna praeoptas. 
 Quai potuit majora pater tribuisse, vel ipse 95 
 
 Jupiter, excepto, donasset ut omnia, coelo' 
 Non potiora dedit, quamvis et tuta fuissent, 
 Publica qui juveni commisit lumina nato 
 At que Hyperionis currus, et fraena diei, 
 Et circum undantem radiata luce tiaram. 100 
 
 Ergo ego jam doctae pars quamlibet ima catervse 
 Victrices hederas inter, laurosque sedebo ; 
 Jamque nee obscurus populo miscebor inerti, 
 Vitabuntque oculos vestigia nostra profanos. 
 
POEM AT A. 539 
 
 Este procul vigiles curse, procul este querelee, 103 
 
 Invidiasque acies transverse tortilis hirquo, 
 
 Saeva nee anguiferos extend e calumnia rictus ; 
 
 In me triste nihil foedissima turba potestis, 
 
 Nee vestri sum juris ego ; securaque tutus 
 
 Pectora, vipereo gradiar sublimis ab ictu. 110 
 
 At tibi, chare pater, postquam non sequa merenti 
 Posse referre datur, nee dona rependere factis, 
 Sic memorasse satis, repe;itaque munera grato 
 Perceiusere aninio, fidar^que reponex'e menti. 
 
 Et ^os, O nostri, juvenilia carmina, lusus, 115 
 
 Si modo perpetuos sperare audebitis annos, 
 Et domini superesse rogo, luceraque tueri, 
 Nee Jspisso rapient oblivia nigra sub Oreo, 
 Forsican has laudes, decantatumque parentis 
 Nomen, ad exemplum, sero servabitis aevo. 120 
 
 PSALM CXIV. 
 I2PA'HA on ?ra;^2?, or ocyXoca, (pdx' ^locjcu-fjov 
 
 AlyV-TfTtOV X'lTTi d?if/,OV^ Ci'Tn^^iOi, (oOiplZoiOO(pMVOV, 
 
 Ah r'.Ti f/,ovvo)) Ir'nv otTiov y'vog vh; ^louocc. 
 *Ev ^£ hos Xaolffi uiyo:, koh'mv fs>acCiXiuiv. 
 E;^£, fcoc.) ivr^o-prd^nv (pvycc^ Ifpconart Bof^Xatrifix. 5 
 
 Kuf^ocTi t]Xvf/,i.vn ^odtM, oV a^ i(Tru(pzXi^0yi 
 'ifios Io0^a,yy;s <^ot\ OLfj^yvPondioi. Trviyhv. 
 Eh, F opzoc ff7(,a,p&f/.olcriv ccTrtioiffix KXoviovrOi 
 fi? xpio] (r(pp{yoMVTis lvpa.(pipu} Iv aXuf/i 
 'BonoTipoci d ci/!/,o(, ^acai a,ycca'>cipT'^a'av If/Vva/, 10 
 
 Old <zrix,peci (Tvptyyi (ptXri v^tto f/,7^rspi aovz?. 
 T/Vrs crvy^ otiva. ^dcXoco'crcii <z:'iXcdp ^vyoui ifp6tjr](rcc$ 
 KvfAocri ilXvfA.iv'h ^oStoo ; <r/ ^' a^" lerrv(pzXi^^yi§ 
 'l^os 'lo^^ivyj '71'or) ot^yv^ozt^ici 'prnym ; 
 Ti5rr opicc <nto(.p0f/,ol(riv a.'Trupia'iGi, KXoviiffSt. 15 
 
 *Q.g xpio) (r(pptyoMVTiis \vTpo(,(pipM Iv aXcoyj ; 
 'Bof.ioTipex.t Tt (xp Vf/,fjcs$ a.'iiocff}cipTr,<roe.T £^<Vva/, 
 Ola Tccpoc) ffvpiyyi (ptX^ ii'pro /Lcrnpt aovis j 
 Sg/gfl ya,7oi, r^iovarec hov fAtyy.X' iJcrvptiovroi 
 "Boclx 0iov T^iioua"' v'^KTov (rip>ocs ^Iffffocjtlooco^ 20 
 
 *Oj ri xcci Ix. i^TCiX'xbuM TToroc^ovg ^ii fx,o^(AV^ovr»$, 
 
540 POEM ATA. 
 
 Philosophus ad regem queridam, qui eum ignotum et 
 insontem inter reos forte captum inscius damnave- 
 rat, rm l^v ^avo^TM Tro^tvo/Lc&vos, h(£c subito misit, 
 *Q. ava, s/ oXieryi? f^z rov svvofcov^ ovVz riv av^oeov 
 Asivcv oXm$ o^do'ocvTXi coipMrccTov 'IffSi jc6(ptjvov 
 VyiibtMS oi.(piXo40j to d' vtTT&pov ecu^t von<rns» 
 Moc^idiMS a.^ i9riiTcx, t&ov w^os ^vf^olv chvo'^y 
 Toiov iK '^oXio; mptuvvfjcov ciXKcx,p oXicrerocs, 
 
 In effigiei ejus Sculptorem. 
 
 ^DciYi? roi^ av, 'TT^os ii^og ocl'ro(pv\? f^Xi^rcov. 
 Toy d IjcrvTTurov o'jx, iTnyvons iplXot 
 TiXciri (pocvXav ^vfffjclfjCTi^ix, Z^uypo:.(pou, 
 
 Ad Salsillum Poet am Romanum a^grotantem, 
 
 SCAZONTES. 
 
 O MusA gressutn quse volens trahis claudum, 
 Vulcanioque tarda gaudes incessu. 
 Nee sentis illud in loco minus gratum, 
 Quam cum decentes flava Deiope suras 
 Alternat aureum ante Junonis lectum ; 5 
 
 Adesdum et hjec s'is verba pauca Salsillo 
 Refer, Camoena nostra cui tantiim est cordi, 
 Quamqne ille magnis prgefrulit immeritd divis. 
 Hgec ergo alumnus ille Londini Milto, 
 Diebus hisce qui suum linquens nidum 10 
 
 Polique tractum, pessimus ubi ventorum. 
 In sanientis impotensque pulmonis, 
 Pernix anhela sub Jove exercet flabra, 
 Venit feraces Itali soli ad glebas, 
 
 Visum superba cognitas urbes fama 15 
 
 Virosque, docta?qiie indolem juventutis. 
 TiW optat idem hie fausta multa, Salsille, 
 Habitumque fesijo corpori penitiis sanum ; 
 Cui nunc profunda bills infestat renes, 
 Praecordiisque fixa damnosum spirat ; 20 
 
 Nee id pepercit impia quod tu Romano 
 Tarn cultus ore Lesbium condis melos. 
 O dulce divum munus, O salus Hebes 
 
POEMATA 541 
 
 Germana ! Tuque Phcebe morborum terror, 
 
 Pytbone cseso, sive tu magis Paean 25 
 
 Libenter audis, hie tuus sacerdos est. 
 
 Querceta Fauni, vosque rore vinoso 
 
 Colies benigni, mitis Evandri sedes, 
 
 Siquid salubre v alii bus froiidet vestris. 
 
 Lav amen aegro ferte certatim vati. 30 
 
 Sic ille, charis redditus rursiim Musis, 
 
 Vicina dulci prata mulcebit cantu. 
 
 Ipse iuter atros emirabitur lucos 
 
 Numa, ubi beatum degit otium seternum, 
 
 Suam reclivis semper ^geriam spectans. 35 
 
 Tumidusque et ipse Tibris, hinc delinitus 
 
 Spei favebit annuae colonoram : 
 
 Nee in sepulchris ibit obsessum reges 
 
 Nimium sinistro lax us irruens loro : 
 
 Sed fraena melius temperabit undarum, 40 
 
 Adusque curvi falsa regna Portumni. 
 
 MANSUS. 
 
 Joannes Baptista Mansus Marchio Vilensis,vir iiip:en{i laude, turn 
 literanini studio, nee non et bellica virtute apud Italos clarus 
 in primis est. Ad qneni Torqiiuti i assi dialosjiis extat de Anii- 
 citia scriptus; er.it enini Tassi amicissimus; ab quo etiani inter 
 Campaniac principes celebraiur, in ilio poemate cui titulus Ge- 
 rusalemme Conqnistula, lib. 20. 
 
 Fra cavaiicr mag-nanimi, e Corteci 
 Risplendeil Manso 
 
 Is authorem Neapoli conimorantem snmma benevolentia prose- 
 cutus est, nuiltaqne el detiiiit hunianitatis oflRcia. Ad hnnc it;^ 
 que liosr)es ille antequani ab ea urbe discederet, ut ne ingratum 
 se osttriiderat, hoc carmen misit. 
 
 H^c quoque, Manse, tuae meditantur carmina laudi 
 Pierides, tijbi, Manse, cboro notissime Phoebi, 
 Quandoquidem ille alium baud aequo est dignatus ho 
 Post Galli eineres, et Mecasnatis Hetrusei. [nore 
 Tu quoque, si nostras tantum valet aura Camoenas, O 
 Victrices hederas inter, laurosque sedebis. 
 Te pridem raagno felix concordia Tasso 
 Junxit, et asternis inscripsit nomina chartis ; 
 Mox tibi dulciloquum non inscia Musa Marinum 
 
542 POEM AT A. 
 
 Tradidit; ille tuum dici se gaudet aliiranum 10 
 
 Duin canit Assyrios diviim prolixus amores ; 
 
 Mollis et Ausonias stupefecit carmine nymphas, 
 
 Ille itidem uioriens tibi soli debita vates 
 
 Ossa, tibi soli, supremaque vota reliquit : 
 
 Nee manes pietas tua chara fefellit amici ; 15 
 
 Vidimus arridentem operoso ex aere poetam. 
 
 Nee satis hoc visum est in utrumque, et nee pia ces- 
 
 Officia in tumulo ; cupis integros rapere Oreo, [sant 
 
 Qua potes, atque avidas Parcarum eludere leges : 
 
 Amborum genus, et varia sub sorte peractam 20 
 
 Desci'ibis vitam, moresque, et dona Minerva? ; 
 
 ^mulus illius, Mycalen qui natus ad altam, 
 
 Retulit i^iolii vitam facundus Homeri. 
 
 Ergo ego te, Clius et magni nomine Phoebi, 
 
 Manse pater, jubeo longum salvere per aevum, 25 
 
 Missus Hypei'boreo juvenis peregrinus ab axe. 
 
 Nee tu longinquam bonus aspernabare Musam, 
 
 Quae nuper gelida vix enutrita sub Arcto 
 
 Imprudens Italas ausa est volitare per urbes. 
 
 Nos etiam in nostro modulantes flumine cygnos 30 
 
 Credimus obscuras noctes sensisse per umbras, 
 
 Qua Thamesis late puris argenteus urnis 
 
 Oceani Glaucos perfundit gurgite crines : 
 
 Quin et in has quondam pervenit Tityrus oras. 
 
 Sed neque nos genus incultum, nee inutile Phoebo 
 Qua plaga septeno mundi sulcata Trione 3C 
 
 Brumalem patitur longa sub nocte Booten. 
 Nos etiam colimus Phoebum, nos munera Phoebo 
 Flaventes spicas, et lutea mala canistris, 
 Halentemque crocum (perhibet nisi vana vetustas)40 
 Misimus, et lectas Druidum de gente choreas. 
 CGens Druides antiqua sacris operata deorum 
 Heroum laudes imitandaque gesta canebant) 
 Hinc quoties festo cingunt altaria cantu 
 Delo in herbosa Graise de more puellae, 45 
 
 Carminibus laetis memorant Corineida Loxo, 
 Fatidicamque Upin, cum flavicoma Hecaerge, 
 Nuda Caledonio variatas pectora fuco. 
 
 Fortunate senex, ergo quacunque per orbem 
 Torquati decus, et nomen celebrabitur in gens, 50 
 Claraque perpetui succrescet fama Marini ; 
 
I'OEMATA. 54S 
 
 Til quoqiie in ci-a frequens veiiies, plaiisumque vii-o- 
 Et paviii cai']:!es iter iniuioitale volatu. [rum, 
 
 Dicetur turn spoute tuo^ habitasse peiiates 
 Cyiithiiis, et famulas venistje ad limiiia Musas : 55 
 At non sponte douiuni tamen idem, et regis adivit 
 Rura Pheretiadaj, coelo fug itivus Apollo ; 
 Ille licet magnum Alciden susceperat hospes ; 
 Tantum ubi clamosos placuit vitare bubulcos, 
 Nobile maiisueti cessic Chiiouis in antrunj, (iO 
 
 Irriguos inter salrus, fW)ndosaque tecta, 
 Peneium prope rivum : ibi stepe sub ilice nigra. 
 Ad citharie strepitiim, blanda pi'ece viotus amici, 
 Exilii duros lenibat voce labores. 
 
 Turn neque ripa suo, baratbro nee fixa sub imo 65 
 Saxa stetere loco ; nutat Trachinia rupes, 
 Nee sentit solitas, immania pondera, silras ; 
 Emota^que suis properant de collibus orni, 
 Mulcenturque novo maeulosi carmine lynces. 
 
 Diis dilecte senex, te Jupiter ajquus oportet 70 
 Kascentem, et miti lustrarat lumine Phoebus, 
 Atlantisque nepos; neque enim, nisi cliarus ab ortu 
 Diis sxi;eris, poterit magno favisse poetise. 
 Hine longaeva tibi lento sub flore senectus 
 Vernat, et ^sonios lueratur vivida fusos ; 75 
 
 Nondum deciduos servans tibi frontis honores, 
 Ing-eniumque vigens, et adultum mentis aeusnen. 
 O mihi si mea sors talem concedat amicuin, 
 Phoebaeos decorasse viros qui tarn bene norit, 
 £i quando indigenas revocabo in carmina reg-es, 80 
 Arturumque etiam sub terris bella moventem ! 
 Aut dicam invicta9 sociali foedere mensse 
 Mag-nanimos Heroas, et (O modo spiritus adsit) 
 Frangam Saxonicas Britonem sub Marte phalanges. 
 Tandem ubi non tacita? permensus tempora vitae, 85 
 Annorumque satur, cineri sua jura relinquam, 
 Ille mihi lecto madidis astaret oceilis, 
 Astanti sat erit si dicam, sim tibi curge ; 
 Ille meos artus, liventi mcrte solutos, 
 Curaret parvet componi molliter urna : 90 
 
 Forsitan et nostros ducat de marmore vultus, 
 Nectens aut Paphia myrti aut Parnasside lauri 
 Fronde cemas, at ego secura pace quiescam. 
 
 2 N 
 
514 POEMATA. 
 
 Turn quoque, si qua fides, si praemia certa bonoraasa, 
 Ipse ego caelicolum seinotus in ccthera divum, Q.l 
 
 Quo labor et mens pura vehunt, atque ignea virtUS; 
 Seci'eti htec aliqua niundi de parte \idebo, 
 Quantum fata sinunt : et tota mente serenum 
 Ridens, purpureo suffundar lumine vultus, 
 Et simul aethereo plaudam mihi Isetus Olympo. 100 
 
 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 
 
 ARGUMENTUM. 
 
 T!iyrsis et Damon ejiisdem vicini«; paslores, eadem studia sequiiti, 
 a pneritiii aiiiici eVuiit, iit (jiii pliirinuiiii. Tliyrsis aiiiiiii causa 
 profectiis pert'gre <le obitii D.uuoiiis niuiciiini accei'it. Doirmin 
 postea n-versns, et rem ita esse coniper.o, se, stiamque solitii- 
 dinem hoc car.i iue deplorat. Daiiioiiis aiiteni sub persoua liir 
 iiitelliiiitiir Caroliis Deodatiis ex iirbe Jletriirias Luca paterno 
 geiiere ortiindus, ca^tera Aimliis; iugenio, doctrii^a, clarbsi- 
 misque cteteris virtutibus, dum' viveret, juvenis egregius. 
 
 HiMERiDES nymphffi (nam vos et Daphnin et Hylan, 
 Et plorata diu meministis fata Bionis) 
 Dicite Sicelicura Thamesina per oppida cannen: 
 Quas miser effudit voces, quae murmura Thyrsis, 
 Et quibus assiduis exercuit antra querelis, 5 
 
 Fluminaque, fontesque vagos, nemorumque recessus; 
 Dum sibi prgeruptum queritur Damona, neque altank 
 Luctibus exemit noctem loca sola pererrans- 
 Et jam bis viridi surgebat culmus arista, 
 Et totidem flavas numerabant horrea messes, 10 
 
 Ex quo summa dies tulerat Damona sub umbras, 
 Nee dum aderat Thyrsis; pastorem scilicet ilium 
 Dulcis amor Musa? Thusca retinebat in urbe. 
 Ast ubi mens expleta domum, pecorisque relicti 
 Cura vocat, simul assueta seditque sub ulmo, 13 
 
 Tum vero amissum tum denique sentit amicum, 
 Coepit et immensum sic exonerare dolorem. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Hei mihi! quae terris, quae dicam numina coelo, 
 Postquam te immiti rapuerunt funere, Damon ! ^ 
 Siccine nos linquis, tua sic sine nomine virtus 
 Ibit, et obscuris numero sociabitur umbris 1 
 
POEMATA. bt^ 
 
 At non ille, animas virga qui dividit aui-ea, 
 Ista velit, dignumque tui te ducat in agmen, 
 Ignavumque procul pecus arceat omne silentura. 25 
 
 Ite domiim impasti, domino jam nou vncat, ajrni. 
 Quicquid erit, certe nisi mie lupus ant^ videbit, 
 Indeplorato non conxminuere sepulchro, 
 Constabitque tuus tibi honos, longumque vig-ebit 
 Inter pastores : Illi tibi vota secundo 30 
 
 Solvere post Daphnin, post Daphnin dicere laudes 
 Gaudebunt, dum rura Pales, dum Faunus amabit: 
 Si quid id est, pi'iscamque fidem coluisse, pidmque, 
 Palladiaaque artes, sociamque habuisse canorum. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 35 
 Haec tibi certamanent,tibierunthascpraimia, Damon, 
 At mihi quid tandem fiet modo ? quis mihi fidus 
 Haerebit lateri cdmes, nt tu saipe solebas 
 Frig-oribus duris, et per ioca foeta pruinis, 
 Aut rapido sub sole, siti morientibus hei'bis? 49 
 
 Sive opxxs in mag'nos fuit eniiniis iie leones, 
 Aut avidos terrere lupos prtesepibus altis 
 Quis fando sopire diem, cantuque solebit '? 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, ag'ni. 
 Pectora cui credam 1 quis me Icnire docebit 45 
 
 Mordaces curas, quis longam fallere noctem 
 Dulcibus alloquiis, grato cum sibilat iyni 
 Molle pyrum, et nucibus strepitat focus, et malus 
 Miscet cuncta foris, et desuper intonat ulmo ? [auster 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 50 
 Aut asstate, dies medio dum vertitur axe, 
 Cum Pan Eesculea somnum capit abditus umbra, 
 Et repetunt sub aquis sibi nota sedilia nymphss, 
 Pastoresque latent, stertit sub sepe colonus ; 
 Quis mihi blanditiasque tuas, quis tum milii risus, 53 
 Cecropiosque sales referet, cultosque lepores 1 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 At jam solus agros, jam pascua solus oberro, 
 Sicubi ramosEC densantur vallibus umbrse ; 
 Hie serum expecto ; supra caput imber et Eurus 60 
 Iriste sonant, fractasque agitata crepuscula sylvse. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Heu, quam culta mihi prius arva procacibus herbis 
 Involvuntur, et ipsa situ seges alta fatisciti 
 
546 POEMATA. 
 
 Innuba neglecto marcescit et uva i-acemo, 65 
 
 Nee myrteta juvant ; ovium quoque taedet, at illfe 
 Moerent, inque suum convetiuit ora rnagistrura. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agrii. 
 Tityrus ad corylos vocat, Aiphesiboeus ad ornos, 
 Ad salices Aegon, ad fiumina pulcher Amyntas, 70 
 * Hie gelidi foutes, hie illita gramina museo, 
 Hlo Zephiri, h!e placidas interstrepit arbutus undas ;' 
 Ista eanunt surdo, frutices ego nactus abibam. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Mopsus ad haec, nam me redeuntem forte notai*at, 75 
 Et cailebat avium linguas, et sldera ]\ropsus) 
 Thyrsi quid hoc 1 dixit, quae te coquit improba bilis 1 
 Aut te perdit amor, aut te male fascinat astrum, 
 Saturni grave saepe fuit pastoribus asti-um, 
 Intimaque obliquo figit praecordia plumbo. 80 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Mirantur nymphge, et quid te. Thyrsi, futurum est ? 
 Quid tibi vis 1 aiunt, non haec solet esse juventae 
 Nubila frons, oculique truces, vultusque severij 
 Ilia choros, lususque leves, et semper amorem 85 
 Jure petit, bis ille miser qui serus amavit. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Venit Hyas, Dryopeque, et filia Baucidis Aegle 
 Docta modos, cithareeque sciens, sed perdita fastu, 
 Venit Idumanii Chlorus vicina fluenti ; SK) 
 
 Nil me blanditiae, nil me solantia verba. 
 Nil me, si quid adest, movet, aut spes ulla futuri. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Hei raihi, quam similes ludunt per prata juvenci, 
 Omnes unanimi secum sibi lege sodales ! 93 
 
 Nee magis hunc alio quisquam secernit amicum 
 De grege, si densi veniunt ad pabula thoes, 
 Inque vicem hirsuti paribus junguntur onagri ; 
 Lex eadem pelagi, deserto in littore Proteus 
 Agmina phocarum numerat, vilisque volucrum ICd 
 Passer habet semper quicum sit, et omnia circunj 
 Farra libens volitet, sero sua tecta revisens. 
 Quern si sors letho objecit, sua milvus adunco 
 Fata tulit rostro, seu stravit arundine fossor, 
 Protinus ille alium. socio petit inde volatii. 10' 
 
 No3 durum genus, et diris exercita fatis 
 
POEMATA. 547 
 
 Gens homines, aliena animis, et pectore disoors* 
 Vix sibi quisque parem de millibus invenit ununi ; 
 Aut si sors dederit tandem non aspera votis. 
 Ilium inopina dies qua non speraveiis hora 110 
 
 Surripit, aeternum linquens in saecula damnuxft 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, ag-ni. 
 Heu quis me ignotas traxit vagus error in oras 
 Ire per aereas rupes, Alpemque nivosam! 
 Ecquid erat tanti Rom am vidisse sepultam, 115 
 
 (Quamvis ilia foret, qualem dum viseret olim, 
 Tityrus ipse suas et oves et rura reliquit ;) 
 Ut te tarn dulci possem caruisse sodale, 
 Possem tot maria alta, tot interponere monies 
 Tot sylvas, tot saxa tibi, fluviosque sonantes! 120 
 Ah certe extremiim liciiisset tangere dextram, 
 Et bene composites plaoide morientis ocellos, 
 Et dixisse ' Vale, nostri memor ibis ad ast""? ' 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Quamquam etiam vestri nunquam meminissepigebit, 
 Pastores Thusci, Musis operata juveiitus, 125 
 
 Hie Chans, atque Lepos ; et Thuscus tu quoque Damon 
 Antiqua genus unde petis Lucumonis ab urbe. 
 O ego quantus eram, gelidi cum stratus ad Arni 
 Murmura, populeumque nemus, qua molliov >>erba, 
 Carpere nunc violas, nunc summas carpers myrtos, 
 Et potui Lycidai certantem audire Menalcam, 
 Ipse etiam tentare ausus sum, nee puto multum 
 Displicui, nam sunt et apud me munera vestra 
 Fiscellae, calathique, et cerea vincla cicut;^ : 135 
 
 Quin et nostra suas docuerunt nomina fagos 
 Et Datis, et Francinus, erant et vocibus ambo 
 Et studiis noti, Lydoruni sanguinis ambo. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Hasc mihi tum laeto dictabat roscida luna, 110 
 
 Dum solus teneros claudebam cratibus hoedos. 
 Ah quoties dixi, cum te cinis ater habebat 
 Nunc canit, aut lepori nunc tendit retia .^/dmon, 
 Vimina nunc texit, varios sibi quod sit in usus'. 
 Et quse turn facili sperabam mente futura 146 
 
 Ai-rigui voto levis, et prresenta finxi, 
 Heus bone numquid agis? nisi te quid forte retardat» 
 Imus ? et arguta paulum recubamus in umbra. 
 
548 POEM ATA. 
 
 Aiit ad aquas Colni, aut iibi jug-era Caseibelauni ? 
 Txx mihi percurres medicos, tua gramiiia succos, 150 
 Helleborumque, humilesque crocos, foliumque 
 
 hyacinthi. 
 Quasque habet ista paltis herbas, artesque medentuin. 
 Ah pereant lierbae, pereant artesque medeiitum, 
 Graniina, postquaiu ipsi nil profecere magistro. 
 Ipse etiam, nam nescio quid mihi graude sonabat 
 Fistula, ab undecima jam lux est altera nocte, 150 
 Et turn forte novis admoram labra cicutis, 
 Dissiluere tamen lupta compage, nee ultra 
 Ferre graves potuorc sonos, dubito quoque ne sim 
 Turg'idulus, tamen et referam, vos cedite sylvee. 160 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino ;am non vacat, agni. 
 Ipse ego Dardanias Rutupina per a;quora puppes 
 Dicam, et Pandrasidos regnum vetus Inogenia?, 
 Brennumque Arvigarumque duces, priscumque 
 
 Belinum, 
 Et tandem Armoricos Britonum sub lege colonos ; 
 Turn gravidam Arturo fatali fraude Ibgernen, 166 
 Mendaces vultus, assumptaque Gorlois arma, 
 Merlini dolus. O mihi turn si vita supersit, 
 Tu procul annosa pendebis fistula pinu 
 Multum oblita mihi ; aut patriis mutata Camoenis 170 
 Brittonicum strides, quid enim ? omnia non licet uni 
 Non spersase uni licet omnia, mi satis ample 
 Merces, et mihi grande decus (sim ignotus in asvum 
 Tum licet, externo penitusque inglorius orbi) 
 Si me flava comas legat Usa, et potor Alauni, 175 
 Vorticibusque frequens Abra, et nemus omne Treantae, 
 Et Thamesis meus ante omnes, et fusca metallis 
 Tamara. et extremis me discant Orcades undis. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, ag"ni. 
 Heec tibi servabam lenta sub cortice lauri, 180 
 
 Haec, et plura simul ; tum quae mihi pocula Mansus, 
 Mansus Chalcidicas non ultima gloria ripa^, 
 Bina dedit, mirum artis opus, mirandus et ipse, 
 Et circum g-emino caelaverat arguTuento: 
 In medio rubri maris unda, et odoriferum ver, 185 
 Littora longa Arabum, et sudantes balsama sylvas. 
 Has inter Phoenix divina avis, unica terris, 
 Ca3ruleiim fulgens diversicoloribus alis. 
 
POEMATA. 549 
 
 Auroram vitreis surgentem respicit undis ; 189 
 
 Parte alia pohis omnipatens, et magnus Olympus : 
 Quis putet? hie quoque Amor, pictaeque in nube 
 
 pharetrae, 
 Arma corusca faces, et spicula tincta pyropo ; 
 Nee tenues animas, pectusque ig'nobili vulgi 
 Hine ferit, ad eircum flammantia lumina torquens 
 Semper in erectum spargit sua tella per orbes 195 
 Impiger, et pronos nunquam eollimat ad ictus. 
 Hine mentes ardere sacras, formasque deoriim. 
 
 Tu quoque in his, nee me fallit spes lubrica, Damon, 
 Tu quoque in his eerte es, nam qud tua dulcis abiret 
 Sanctaque simplieitas, nam quo tua Candida virtus? 
 Nee te Letheeo fas qutesivisse sub orco, 201 
 
 Nee tibi eonveniunt lacrymae, nee flebimus ultra, 
 Ite proeul lacrymae, purum colit tethera Damon, 
 -/'Ethera piirus habet, pluvium pede repulit areum ; 
 Heroumque animas inter, divosque perennes, 205 
 -^thereos haurit latices et gaudia potat 
 Ore sacro. Quin tu, coeli post jura recepta, 
 Dexter ades, plaeidusque fave quicunque vocaris, 
 Seu tu noster eris Damon, sive aequior audis 
 Diodotus, quo te divino nomine cuncti 210 
 
 Coelieolaj norint, sylvisque vocabere Damon : 
 Qu6d tibi purpureus pudor, et sine labe juventus 
 Grata fuit, quod nulla tori libata voluptas. 
 En etiam tibi virginei servantur honores ; 
 Ipse caput nitidum einetus rutilante corona, 215 
 
 La?taque frondentis gestans umbraeula palmge, 
 iEternum perages immortales hymenaeos ; 
 Cantus ubi, choreisque furit lyra mista beatis^ 
 Festa Sionaeo bacchantur et Orgia Thyrso. 
 
650 POEMATA. 
 
 ^d JoANNK3i RousiuM Oxontensts Academia: 
 BibUothecarium, 
 
 iJ-^in. 23, 1646.) 
 
 De libro Poematuro amisso, quern ille sibi denuo initti posf'''a« 
 bat, ut cum aliis nosiris in bibliotlieca piiblica repoiieref. \^Qe. 
 
 Siroj^he 1. 
 
 Gemelle cultu simplici gaudeus liber, 
 
 Fronde licet g-emina, 
 
 Munditieque niteiis iion operosa, 
 
 Quam nianus attulit 
 
 Juvenilis olim, 5 
 
 Sedula tamen hand nimii poetse ; 
 
 Dum vagus Ausonias nunc per umbras, 
 
 Nunc Britannica per vireta lusit 
 
 Insons popuii, barbitoqiie devius 
 
 Indulsit patrio, mox itidem pectine Daunio 10 
 
 Longinquum intonuit melos 
 
 Vicinis, et humum vix tetigit pede : 
 
 Aiitistrofhe, 
 
 Quis te, parve liber, quis te fratribus 
 
 Subduxit reliquis dolo? 
 
 Cum tu missus ab urbe, 15 
 
 Docto jugiter obsecran.e amico 
 
 lUustre tendebas iter 
 
 Thamesis ad incunabula 
 
 Caerulei patris, 
 
 Fontes ubi limpidi 20 
 
 Aonidum, tliyasusqiie sacer, 
 
 Orbi notus per immeasos 
 
 Temporum lapsus redeunte coelo, 
 
 Celeberque futurus in ajvum ? 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 Mod5 quis deus, aut editus deo, 26 
 
 Fristinam gentis miseratus indolem, 
 
 (Si satis noxas luimus priores, 
 
 Mollique luxu degener otium) 
 
 Tollat nefandos civium tumultus, 
 
 Almaque revocet studia sanctus, 30 
 
POEM AT A. 
 
 651 
 
 Et relegatas sine sede Musas 
 
 
 Jam pene totis ftnibus Angligenum ; 
 
 
 Imnmndasque volucres 
 
 
 Ui)y,uibiis imminontes 
 
 34 
 
 Fig-at ApoUiiiea pharetra, 
 
 [gaseo. 
 
 Phmeatnqiie abigat pestem procul amne I'a- 1 
 
 Antufrojyhc, 
 
 
 Quill tu, libelle, nuncii licet mala 
 
 
 Fide, vel oscitautia, 
 
 
 Semel erraveris agiiiine fratrum, 
 
 
 Seu quis te teueat specus, 
 
 40 
 
 Seu (lua te latebra, forsan imde vili 
 
 
 Callo teveris iiistitoris insnlsi. 
 
 
 Lct^tare felix, en iterum tibi 
 
 
 Spes nova fulget posse profundam 
 
 
 Fug'ere Lethen, vehique superam 
 
 45 
 
 In Jovis auiam remige pemia : 
 
 
 Strophe 3. 
 
 
 Nam te Uoiisius sui 
 
 
 Optat peculi, ninneroque justo 
 
 
 Sibi pollicitum queritur abesse. 
 
 
 Hogataque venias ille, cujus inclyta 
 
 50 
 
 Sunt data vivum inonumenta curie : 
 
 
 Teque adytis etiaiu sacris 
 
 
 Vohiit reponi, qui bus et ipse pnesidet 
 
 
 ^iternorum operuin custos tideiis, 
 Qua'storque gazaj nobiiioris, 
 
 
 50 
 
 Quam cui pra;fuit Ion 
 
 
 Clurus Erechtheides 
 
 
 Opulenta dei per temp] a parentis 
 
 
 Fulvosque tripodas, donaque Delphica, 
 
 
 Ion Actaja genitus Creusa. 
 
 60 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 
 
 Ergo tu vise re luov^s 
 
 
 TVIusarnm ibis amoenus, 
 
 
 Diamque Phc»bi rursus ibis in domuui, 
 
 
 Oxonia quam valle colit. 
 
 
 Dele posthabita, 
 
 05 
 
 Bii"id6que Parnassi ju}i:o : 
 
 
652 POEMATA. 
 
 Ibis .lOnestus, 
 
 P'jstquam egregiam tu quoque sortem 
 
 Nactus abis, dextri prece sollicitatus aioioi. 
 
 lllic legeris inter alta noniina TO 
 
 Authorum, Graiae simul et Latinae 
 
 Antiqua gentis lumina, et verura decus. 
 
 Epodos. 
 
 Vos tandem haud vacui niei labores, 
 
 Quicquid hoc sterile fudit ing'enium, 
 
 Jam ser6 placidam sperare jubeo 75 
 
 Perfunctam invidia requiem, sedesque beatas, 
 
 Quas bonus Hermes 
 
 Et tutela dabit solers Roiisi, [long^ 
 
 Quo neque lingua procax vulgi penetrabit, atque 
 
 Turba legentum parva facesset ; 80 
 
 At ultimi nepotes, 
 
 Et cordatior aetas 
 
 Judicia rebus aequiora forsitan 
 
 Adhibebit, integro sinu. 
 
 Turn, livore sepulto, 85 
 
 Si quid merenmr sana posteritas sciet, 
 
 Roiisio favente. 
 
 Ode tribus constat Stropliis, totidemque Antistro- 
 phis, una demum Epodo clausis, quas, tametsi omnes 
 nee versuum numero, nee certis ubique colis exacte 
 respondeaut, ita tamen secuimus, commode legendi 
 potias, quam ad antiques concinendi modos rationem 
 spectantes. Alioquin hoc genus rectius fortasse dici 
 monstrophicum debuerat. Metra partim sunt Kara 
 ax€<riv, partim uTroXeXi/^ieva. Phaleucia qme sunt 
 Spondaeum tertio loco bis admittuut, quod idem in 
 secuudo loco Catullus ad libitum fecit 
 

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