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Book III
Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn,
Or
of the Eternal coeternal beam
May I express thee
unblam'd? since God is light,
And never but in
unapproached light
Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then
in thee
Bright effluence of bright essence increate.
Or hear"st thou rather pure ethereal stream,
Whose fountain who shall tell? before the sun,
Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice
Of
God, as with a mantle, didst invest ***
The rising
world of waters dark and deep,
Won from the void and
formless infinite.
Thee I re-visit now with bolder
wing,
Escap'd the Stygian pool, though long detain'd
In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight
Through utter and through middle darkness borne,
With other notes than to the Orphean lyre
I sung of
Chaos and eternal Night;
Taught by the heavenly Muse
to venture down
The dark descent, and up to
re-ascend,
Though hard and rare: Thee I revisit
safe,
And feel thy sovran vital lamp; but thou
Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain
To find
thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;
So thick a drop
serene hath quench'd their orbs,
Or dim suffusion
veil'd. Yet not the more
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 flowery brooks beneath,
That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow,
Nightly I visit: nor sometimes forget
So were I
equall'd with them in renown,
Thy sovran command,
that Man should find grace;
Blind Thamyris, and
blind Maeonides,
And Tiresias, and Phineus, prophets
old:
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move
Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird
Sings
darkling, and in shadiest covert hid
Tunes her
nocturnal note. Thus with the year
Seasons return;
but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of
even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's
rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds
me, from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for
the book of knowledge fair
Presented with a
universal blank
Of nature's works to me expung'd and
ras'd,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
So much the rather thou, celestial Light,
Shine
inward, and the mind through all her powers
Irradiate; there plant eyes, all mist from thence
Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell
Of
things invisible to mortal sight.
Now had the
Almighty Father from above,
From the pure empyrean
where he sits
High thron'd above all highth, bent
down his eye
His own works and their works at once
to view:
About him all the Sanctities of Heaven
Stood thick as stars, and from his sight receiv'd
Beatitude past utterance; on his right
The radiant
image of his glory sat,
His only son; on earth he
first beheld
Our two first parents, yet the only two
Of mankind in the happy garden plac'd
Reaping
immortal fruits of joy and love,
Uninterrupted joy,
unrivall'd love,
In blissful solitude; he then
survey'd
Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there
Coasting the wall of Heaven 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 imbosom'd,
without firmament,
Uncertain which, in ocean or in
air.
Him God beholding from his prospect high,
Wherein past, present, future, he beholds,
Thus to
his only Son foreseeing spake.
Only begotten Son,
seest thou what rage
Transports our Adversary? whom
no bounds
Prescrib'd no bars of Hell, nor all the
chains
Heap'd on him there, nor yet the main abyss
Wide interrupt, can hold; so bent he seems
On
desperate revenge, that shall redound
Upon his own
rebellious head. And now,
Through all restraint
broke loose, he wings his way
Not far off Heaven, in
the precincts of light,
Directly towards the new
created world,
And man there plac'd, with purpose to
assay
If him by force he can destroy, or, worse,
By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert;
For
man will hearken to his glozing lies,
And easily
transgress the sole command,
Sole pledge of his
obedience: So will fall
He and his faithless
progeny: Whose fault?
Whose but his own? ingrate, he
had of me
All he could have; I made him just and
right,
Sufficient to have stood, though free to
fall.
Such I created all the ethereal Powers
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 given sincere
Of
true allegiance, constant faith or love,
Where only
what they needs must do appear'd,
Not what they
would? what praise could they receive?
What pleasure
I from such obedience paid,
When will and reason
(reason also is choice)
Useless and vain, of freedom
both despoil'd,
Made passive both, had serv'd
necessity,
Not me? they therefore, as to right
belong 'd,
So were created, nor can justly accuse
Their Maker, or their making, or their fate,
As
if predestination over-rul'd
Their will dispos'd by
absolute decree
Or high foreknowledge they
themselves decreed
Their own revolt, not I; if I
foreknew,
Foreknowledge had no influence on their
fault,
Which had no less proved certain unforeknown.
So without least impulse or shadow of fate,
Or
aught by me immutably foreseen,
They trespass,
authors to themselves in all
Both what they judge,
and what they choose; for so
I form'd them free: and
free they must remain,
Till they enthrall
themselves; I else must change
Their nature, and
revoke the high decree
Unchangeable, eternal, which
ordain'd
THeir freedom: they themselves ordain'd
their fall.
The first sort by their own suggestion
fell,
Self-tempted, self-deprav'd: Man falls,
deceiv'd
By the other first: Man therefore shall
find grace,
The other none: In mercy and justice
both,
Through Heaven and Earth, so shall my glory
excel;
But Mercy, first and last, shall brightest
shine.
Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance
fill'd
All Heaven, and in the blessed Spirits elect
Sense of new joy ineffable diffus'd.
Beyond
compare the Son of God was seen
Most glorious; in
him all his Father shone
Substantially express'd;
and in his face
Divine compassion visibly appear'd,
Love without end, and without measure grace,
Which uttering, thus he to his Father spake.
O
Father, gracious was that word which clos'd
Thy
sovran command, that Man should find grace;
, that
Man should find grace;
For which both Heaven and
earth shall high extol
Thy praises, with the
innumerable sound
Of hymns and sacred songs,
wherewith thy throne
Encompass'd shall resound thee
ever blest.
For should Man finally be lost, should
Man,
Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest son,
Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join'd
With his own folly? that be from thee far,
That far
be from thee, Father, who art judge
Of all things
made, and judgest only right.
Or shall the Adversary
thus obtain
His end, and frustrate thine? shall he
fulfill
His malice, and thy goodness bring to nought,
Or proud return, though to his heavier doom,
Yet
with revenge accomplish'd, and to Hell
Draw after
him the whole race of mankind,
By him corrupted? or
wilt thou thyself
Abolish thy creation, and unmake
For him, what for thy glory thou hast made?
So
should thy goodness and thy greatness both
Be
question'd and blasphem'd without defence.
To whom
the great Creator thus replied.
O son, in whom my
soul hath chief delight,
Son of my bosom, Son who
art alone.
My word, my wisdom, and effectual might,
All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all
As
my eternal purpose hath decreed;
Man shall not quite
be lost, but sav'd who will;
Yet not of will in him,
but grace in me
Freely vouchsaf'd; once more I will
renew
His lapsed powers, 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
His fallen condition is, and to
me owe
All his deliverance, 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
Their sinful state, and to
appease betimes
The 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.
To prayer,
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,
Light after light, well us'd, they shall
attain,
And to the end, persisting, safe arrive.
This my long sufferance, and my day of grace,
They
who neglect and scorn, shall never taste;
But hard
be harden'd, blind be blinded more,
That they may
stumble on, and deeper fall;
And none but such from
mercy I exclude.
But yet all is not done; Man
disobeying,
Disloyal, breaks his fealty, and sins
Against the high supremacy of Heaven,
Affecting
God-head, 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
Some other
able, and as willing, pay
The rigid satisfaction,
death for death.
Say, heavenly Powers, where shall
we find such love?
Which of you will be mortal, to
redeem
Man's mortal crime, and just the unjust to
save?
Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear?
And
silence was in Heaven: on Man's behalf
He ask'd, but
all the heavenly quire stood mute,
Patron or
intercessour none appear'd,
Much less that durst
upon his own head draw
The deadly forfeiture, and
ransom set.
And now without redemption all mankind
Must have been lost, adjudg'd to Death and Hell
By doom severe, had not the Son of God,
In whom the
fulness dwells of love divine,
His dearest mediation
thus renew'd.
Father, thy word is past, Man shall
find grace;
And shall grace not find means, that
finds her way,
The speediest of thy winged
messengers,
To visit all thy creatures, and to all
Comes unprevented, unimplor'd, unsought?
Happy
for Man, so coming; he her aid
Can never seek, once
dead in sins, and lost;
Atonement for himself, or
offering meet,
Indebted and undone, hath none to
bring;
Behold me then: me for him, life for life
I offer: on me let thine anger fall;
Account me Man;
I for his sake will leave
Thy bosom, and this glory
next to thee
Freely put off, and for him lastly die
Well pleased; on me let Death wreak all his rage.
Under his gloomy power I shall not long
Lie
vanquished. Thou hast given me to possess
Life in
myself for ever; by thee I live;
Though now to Death
I yield, and am his due,
All that of me can die,
yet, that debt paid,
thou wilt not leave me in the
loathsome grave
His prey, nor suffer my unspotted
soul
For ever with corruption there to dwell;
But I shall rise victorious, and subdue
My
vanquisher, spoiled of his vaunted spoil.
Death his
death's wound shall then receive, and stoop
Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarmed;
I through
the ample air in triumph high
Shall lead Hell
captive maugre Hell, and show
The powers 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 grave;
Then, with the multitude of my
redeemed,
Shall enter Heaven, 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.
His words here
ended; but his meek aspect
Silent yet spake, and
breathed immortal love
To mortal men, above which
only shone
Filial obedience: as a sacrifice
Glad
to be offered, he attends the will
Of his great
Father. Admiration seized
All Heaven, what this
might mean, and whither tend,
Wondering; but soon th'
Almighty thus replied.
O thou in Heaven and Earth
the only peace
Found out for mankind under wrath, O
thou
My sole complacence! Well thou know'st how dear
To me are all my works; nor Man the least,
Though last created, that for him I spare
Thee from
my bosom and right hand, to save,
By losing thee a
while, the whole race lost.
Thou, therefore, whom
thou only canst redeem,
Their nature also to thy
nature join;
And be thyself Man among men on Earth,
Made flesh, when time shall be, of virgin seed,
By wondrous birth; be thou in Adam's room
The head
of all mankind, though Adam's son.
As in him perish
all men, so in thee,
As from a second root, shall be
restored
As many as are restored, without thee none.
His crime makes guilty all his sons; thy merit,
Imputed, shall absolve them who renounce
Their own
both righteous and unrighteous deeds,
And live in
thee transplanted, and from thee
Receive new life.
So Man, as is most just,
Shall satisfy for Man, be
judged and die,
And dying rise, and rising with him
raise
His brethren, ransomed with his own dear life.
So heavenly love shall outdo hellish hate,
Giving to death, and dying to redeem,
So dearly to
redeem what hellish hate
So easily destroyed, and
still destroys
In those who, when they may, accept
not grace.
Nor shalt thou, by descending to assume
Man's nature, lessen or degrade thine own.
Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss
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
birthright Son of God,
Found worthiest to be so by
being good,
Far more than great or high; because in
thee
Love hath abounded more than glory abounds;
Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt
With thee thy
manhood also to this throne:
Here shalt thou sit
incarnate, here shalt reign
Both God and Man, Son
both of God and Man,
Anointed universal King; all
power
I give thee; reign for ever, and assume
Thy merits; under thee, as head supreme,
Thrones,
Princedoms, Powers, Dominions, I reduce:
All knees
to thee shall bow, of them that bide
In Heaven, or
Earth, or under Earth in Hell.
When thou, attended
gloriously from Heaven,
Shalt in the sky appear, and
from thee send
The summoning Arch-Angels to proclaim
Thy dread tribunal; forthwith from all winds,
The living, and forthwith the cited dead
Of all past
ages, to the general doom
Shall hasten; such a peal
shall rouse their sleep.
Then, all thy saints
assembled, thou shalt judge
Bad Men and Angels;
they, arraigned, 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 Heaven and Earth, wherein the
just shall dwell,
And, after all their tribulations
long,
See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds,
With joy and peace triumphing, and fair truth.
Then
thou thy regal scepter shalt lay by,
For regal
scepter then no more shall need,
God shall be all in
all. But, all ye Gods,
Adore him, who to compass all
this dies;
Adore the Son, and honour him as me.
No sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all
The
multitude of Angels, with a shout
Loud as from
numbers without number, sweet
As from blest voices,
uttering joy, Heaven rung
With jubilee, and loud
Hosannas filled
The eternal regions: Lowly reverent
Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground
With solemn adoration down they cast
Their
crowns inwove with amarant and gold;
Immortal
amarant, a flower which once
In Paradise, fast by
the tree of life,
Began to bloom; but soon for man's
offence
To Heaven removed, where first it grew,
there grows,
And flowers aloft shading the fount of
life,
And where the river of bliss through midst of
Heaven
Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream;
With these that never fade the Spirits elect
Bind their resplendent locks inwreathed with beams;
Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright
Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone,
Impurpled
with celestial roses smiled.
Then, crowned again,
their golden harps they took,
Harps ever tuned, that
glittering by their side
Like quivers hung, and with
preamble sweet
Of charming symphony they introduce
Their sacred song, and waken raptures high;
No
voice exempt, no voice but well could join
Melodious
part, such concord is in Heaven.
Thee, Father, first
they sung Omnipotent,
Immutable, Immortal, Infinite,
Eternal King; the Author of all being,
Fonntain
of light, thyself invisible
Amidst the glorious
brightness where thou sit'st
Throned inaccessible,
but when thou shadest
The full blaze of thy beams,
and, through a cloud
Drawn round about thee like a
radiant shrine,
Dark with excessive bright thy
skirts appear,
Yet dazzle Heaven, 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 countenance, without cloud
Made visible,
the Almighty Father shines,
Whom else no creature
can behold; on thee
Impressed the effulgence of his
glory abides,
Transfused on thee his ample Spirit
rests.
He Heaven of Heavens and all the Powers
therein
By thee created; and by thee threw down
The aspiring Dominations: Thou that day
Thy Father's
dreadful thunder didst not spare,
Nor stop thy
flaming chariot-wheels, that shook
Heaven's
everlasting frame, while o'er the necks
Thou drovest
of warring Angels disarrayed.
Back from pursuit thy
Powers with loud acclaim
Thee only extolled, Son of
thy Father's might,
To execute fierce vengeance on
his foes,
Not so on Man: Him through their malice
fallen,
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, but much
more to pity inclined,
He to appease thy wrath, and
end the strife
Of mercy and justice in thy face
discerned,
Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat
Second to thee, offered himself to die
For Man's
offence. O unexampled love,
Love no where to be
found less than Divine!
Hail, Son of God, Saviour of
Men! Thy name
Shall be the copious matter of my song
Henceforth, and never shall my heart thy praise
Forget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin.
Thus
they in Heaven, above the starry sphere,
Their happy
hours in joy and hymning spent.
Mean while upon the
firm opacous globe
Of this round world, whose first
convex divides
The luminous inferiour orbs, enclosed
From Chaos, and the inroad of Darkness old,
Satan alighted walks: A globe far off
It seemed, now
seems a boundless continent
Dark, waste, and wild,
under the frown of Night
Starless exposed, and
ever-threatening storms
Of Chaos blustering round,
inclement sky;
Save on that side which from the wall
of Heaven,
Though distant far, some small reflection
gains
Of glimmering air less vexed with tempest
loud:
Here walked the Fiend at large in spacious
field.
As when a vultur on Imaus bred,
Whose
snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds,
Dislodging
from a region scarce of prey
To gorge the flesh of
lambs or yeanling kids,
On hills where flocks are
fed, flies toward the springs
Of Ganges or Hydaspes,
Indian streams;
But in his way lights on the barren
plains
Of Sericana, where Chineses drive
With
sails and wind their cany waggons light:
So, on this
windy sea of land, the Fiend
Walked 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
Of all things
transitory and vain, when sin
With vanity had filled
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 the other
life;
All who have their reward on earth, the fruits
Of painful superstition and blind zeal,
Nought
seeking but the praise of men, here find
Fit
retribution, empty as their deeds;
All the
unaccomplished works of Nature's hand,
Abortive,
monstrous, or unkindly mixed,
Dissolved on earth,
fleet hither, and in vain,
Till final dissolution,
wander here;
Not in the neighbouring moon as some
have dreamed;
Those argent fields more likely
habitants,
Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold
Betwixt the angelical and human kind.
Hither of
ill-joined sons and daughters born
First from the
ancient world those giants came
With many a vain
exploit, though then renowned:
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 deemed
A God, leaped fondly into Aetna flames,
Empedocles;
and he, who, to enjoy
Plato's Elysium, leaped into
the sea,
Cleombrotus; and many more too long,
Embryos, and idiots, eremites, and friars
White,
black, and gray, with all their trumpery.
Here
pilgrims roam, that strayed so far to seek
In
Golgotha him dead, who lives in Heaven;
And they,
who to be sure of Paradise,
Dying, put on the weeds
of Dominick,
Or in Franciscan think to pass
disguised;
They pass the planets seven, and pass the
fixed,
And that crystalling sphere whose balance
weighs
The trepidation talked, and that first moved;
And now Saint Peter at Heaven's wicket seems
To
wait them with his keys, and now at foot
Of Heaven'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 fluttered into rags; then reliques,
beads,
Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls,
The sport of winds: All these, upwhirled aloft,
Fly
o'er the backside of the world far off
Into a Limbo
large and broad, since called
The Paradise of Fools,
to few unknown
Long after; now unpeopled, and untrod.
All this dark globe the Fiend found as he passed,
And long he wandered, till at last a gleam
Of
dawning light turned thither-ward in haste
His
travelled steps: far distant he descries
Ascending
by degrees magnificent
Up to the wall of Heaven a
structure high;
At top whereof, but far more rich,
appeared
The work as of a kingly palace-gate,
With frontispiece of diamond and gold
Embellished;
thick with sparkling orient gems
The portal shone,
inimitable on earth
By model, or by shading pencil,
drawn.
These stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw
Angels ascending and descending, bands
Of
guardians bright, when he from Esau fled
To Padan-Aram,
in the field of Luz
Dreaming by night under the open
sky
And waking cried, This is the gate of Heaven.
Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood
There always, but drawn up to Heaven sometimes
Viewless; and underneath a bright sea flowed
Of
jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon
Who after came
from earth, failing arrived
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 ascent, or aggravate
His
sad exclusion from the doors of bliss:
Direct
against which opened from beneath,
Just o'er the
blissful seat of Paradise,
A passage down to the
Earth, a passage wide,
Wider by far than that of
after-times
Over mount Sion, and, though that were
large,
Over the Promised Land to God so dear;
By
which, to visit oft those happy tribes,
On high
behests his angels to and fro
Passed frequent, and
his eye with choice regard
From Paneas, the fount of
Jordan's flood,
To Beersaba, where the Holy Land
Borders on Egypt and the Arabian shore;
So wide the
opening seemed, where bounds were set
To darkness,
such as bound the ocean wave.
Satan from hence, now
on the lower stair,
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?;nd desart ways with?oeril gone
All?might,?;t?kast by break of cheerful dawn
Obtains
the brow of some high-climbing hill,
Which to his
eye discovers unaware
The goodly prospect of some
foreign land
First seen, or some renowned metropolis
With glistering spires and pinnacles adorned,
Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams:
Such
wonder seised, though after Heaven seen,
The Spirit
malign, but much more envy seised,
At sight of all
this world beheld so fair.
Round he surveys (and
well might, where he stood
So high above the
circling canopy
Of night's extended shade,) from
eastern point
Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears
Andromeda far off Atlantick seas
Beyond the
horizon; then from pole to pole
He views in breadth,
and without longer pause
Down right into the world's
first region throws
His flight precipitant, and
winds with ease
Through the pure marble air his
oblique way
Amongst innumerable stars, that shone
Stars distant, but nigh hand seemed other worlds;
Or other worlds they seemed, or happy isles,
Like those Hesperian gardens famed of old,
Fortunate
fields, and groves, and flowery vales,
Thrice happy
isles; but who dwelt happy there
He staid not to
inquire: Above them all
The golden sun, in splendour
likest Heaven,
Allured his eye; thither his course
he bends
Through the calm firmament, (but up or
down,
By center, or eccentrick, hard to tell,
Or
longitude,) where the great luminary
Aloof the
vulgar constellations thick,
That from his lordly
eye keep distance due,
Dispenses light from far;
they, as they move
Their starry dance in numbers
that compute
Days, months, and years, towards his
all-cheering lamp
Turn swift their various motions,
or are turned
By his magnetick beam, that gently
warms
The universe, and to each inward part
With
gentle penetration, though unseen,
Shoots invisible
virtue even to the deep;
So wonderously was set his
station bright.
There lands the Fiend, a spot like
which perhaps
Astronomer in the sun's lucent orb
Through his glazed optick tube yet never saw.
The
place he found beyond expression bright,
Compared
with aught on earth, metal or stone;
Not all parts
like, but all alike informed
With radiant light, as
glowing iron with fire;
If metal, part seemed gold,
part silver clear;
If stone, carbuncle most or
chrysolite,
Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone
In Aaron's breast-plate, and a stone besides
Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen,
That stone,
or like to that which here below
Philosophers in
vain so long have sought,
In vain, though by their
powerful art they bind
Volatile Hermes, and call up
unbound
In various shapes old Proteus from the sea,
Drained through a limbeck to his native form.
What wonder then if fields and regions here
Breathe
forth Elixir pure, and rivers run
Potable gold, when
with one virtuous touch
The arch-chemick sun, so far
from us remote,
Produces, with terrestrial humour
mixed,
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,
But all sun-shine, as when his beams at
noon
Culminate from the equator, as they now
Shot upward still direct, whence no way round
Shadow
from body opaque can fall; and the air,
No where so
clear, sharpened his visual ray
To objects distant
far, whereby he soon
Saw within ken a glorious Angel
stand,
The same whom John saw also in the sun:
His back was turned, but not his brightness hid;
Of
beaming sunny rays a golden tiar
Circled his head,
nor less his locks behind
Illustrious on his
shoulders fledge with wings
Lay waving round; on
some great charge employed
He seemed, or fixed in
cogitation deep.
Glad was the Spirit impure, as now
in hope
To find who might direct his wandering
flight
To Paradise, the happy seat of Man,
His
journey's end and our beginning woe.
But first he
casts to change his proper shape,
Which else might
work him danger or delay:
And now a stripling Cherub
he appears,
Not of the prime, yet such as in his
face
Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb
Suitable grace diffused, so well he feigned:
Under a
coronet his flowing hair
In curls on either cheek
played; wings he wore
Of many a coloured 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,
Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turned,
Admonished by his ear, and straight was known
The
Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the seven
Who in God's
presence, nearest to his throne,
Stand ready at
command, and are his eyes
That run through all the
Heavens, or down to the Earth
Bear his swift errands
over moist and dry,
O'er sea and land: him Satan
thus accosts.
Uriel, for thou of those seven Spirits
that stand
In sight of God's high throne, gloriously
bright,
The first art wont his great authentick will
Interpreter through highest Heaven to bring,
Where all his sons thy embassy attend;
And here art
likeliest by supreme decree
Like honour to obtain,
and as his eye
To visit oft this new creation round;
Unspeakable desire to see, and know
All these
his wonderous works, but chiefly Man,
His chief
delight and favour, him for whom
All these his works
so wonderous he ordained,
Hath brought me from the
quires of Cherubim
Alone thus wandering. Brightest
Seraph, tell
In which of all these shining orbs hath
Man
His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none,
But
all these shining orbs his choice to dwell;
That I
may find him, and with secret gaze
Or open
admiration him behold,
On whom the great Creator
hath bestowed
Worlds, and on whom hath all these
graces poured;
That both in him and all things, as
is meet,
The universal Maker we may praise;
Who
justly hath driven out his rebel foes
To deepest
Hell, and, to repair that loss,
Created this new
happy race of Men
To serve him better: Wise are all
his ways.
So spake the false dissembler unperceived;
For neither Man nor Angel can discern
Hypocrisy,
the only evil that walks
Invisible, except to God
alone,
By his permissive will, through Heaven and
Earth:
And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity
Resigns her
charge, while goodness thinks no ill
Where no ill
seems: Which now for once beguiled
Uriel, though
regent of the sun, and held
The sharpest-sighted
Spirit of all in Heaven;
Who to the fraudulent
impostor foul,
In his uprightness, answer thus
returned.
Fair Angel, thy desire, which tends to
know
The works of God, thereby to glorify
The
great Work-master, leads to no excess
That reaches
blame, but rather 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,
Contented with report, hear only in
Heaven:
For wonderful indeed are all his works,
Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all
Had in
remembrance always with delight;
But what created
mind can comprehend
Their number, or the wisdom
infinite
That brought them forth, but hid their
causes deep?
I saw when at his word the formless
mass,
This world's material mould, came to a heap:
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar
Stood
ruled, stood vast infinitude confined;
Till at his
second bidding Darkness fled,
Light shone, and order
from disorder sprung:
Swift to their several
quarters hasted then
The cumbrous elements, earth,
flood, air, fire;
And this ethereal quintessence of
Heaven
Flew upward, spirited with various forms,
That rolled orbicular, and turned to stars
Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move;
Each
had his place appointed, each his course;
The rest
in circuit walls this universe.
Look downward on
that globe, whose hither side
With light from hence,
though but reflected, shines;
That place is Earth,
the seat of Man; that light
His day, which else, as
the other hemisphere,
Night would invade; but there
the neighbouring moon
So call that opposite fair
star) her aid
Timely interposes, and her monthly
round
Still ending, still renewing, through mid
Heaven,
With borrowed light her countenance triform
Hence fills and empties to enlighten the Earth,
And in her pale dominion checks the night.
That
spot, to which I point, is Paradise,
Adam's abode;
those lofty shades, his bower.
Thy way thou canst
not miss, me mine requires.
Thus said, he turned;
and Satan, bowing low,
As to superiour Spirits is
wont in Heaven,
Where honour due and reverence none
neglects,
Took leave, and toward the coast of earth
beneath,
Down from the ecliptick, sped with hoped
success,
Throws his steep flight in many an aery
wheel;
Nor staid, till on Niphates' top he lights.
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