445 Religion poems

AS one who in his journey bates at Noone, Though bent on speed, so heer the Archangel paus'd Betwixt the world destroy'd and world restor'd, If Adam aught perhaps might interpose; Then with transition sweet new Speech resumes. Thus thou hast seen one World begin and end; And Man as from a second stock proceed. Much thou hast yet to see, but I perceave Thy mortal sight to faile; objects divine Must needs impaire and wearie human sense: Henceforth what is to com I will relate, Thou therefore give due audience, and attend. This second sours of Men, while yet but few; And while the dread of judgement past remains Fresh in thir mindes, fearing the Deitie, With some regard to what is just and right Shall lead thir lives, and multiplie apace, Labouring the soile, and reaping plenteous crop, Corn wine and oyle; and from the herd or flock, Oft sacrificing Bullock, Lamb, or Kid, With large Wine-offerings pour'd, and sacred Feast, Shal spend thir dayes in joy unblam'd, and dwell Long time in peace by Families and Tribes Under paternal rule; till one shall rise Of proud ambitious heart, who not content With fair equalitie, fraternal state, Will arrogate Dominion undeserv'd Over his brethren, and quite dispossess Concord and law of Nature from the Earth; Hunting (and Men not Beasts shall be his game) With Warr and hostile snare such as refuse Subjection to his Empire tyrannous: A mightie Hunter thence he shall be styl'd Before the Lord, as in despite of Heav'n, Or from Heav'n claming second Sovrantie; And from Rebellion shall derive his name, Though of Rebellion others he accuse. Hee with a crew, whom like Ambition joyns With him or under him to tyrannize, Marching from Eden towards the West, shall finde The Plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge Boiles out from under ground, the mouth of Hell; Of Brick, and of that stuff they cast to build A Citie and Towre, whose top may reach to Heav'n; And get themselves a name, least far disperst In foraign Lands thir memorie be lost Regardless whether good or evil fame. But God who oft descends to visit men Unseen, and through thir habitations walks To mark thir doings, them beholding soon, Comes down to see thir Citie, ere the Tower Obstruct Heav'n Towrs, and in derision sets Upon thir Tongues a various Spirit to rase Quite out thir Native Language, and instead To sow a jangling noise of words unknown: Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud Among the Builders; each to other calls Not understood, till hoarse, and all in rage, As mockt they storm; great laughter was in Heav'n And looking down, to see the hubbub strange And hear the din; thus was the building left Ridiculous, and the work Confusion nam'd. Whereto thus Adam fatherly displeas'd. O execrable Son so to aspire Above his Brethren, to himself assuming Authoritie usurpt, from God not giv'n: He gave us onely over Beast, Fish, Fowl Dominion absolute; that right we hold By his donation; but Man over men He made not Lord; such title to himself Reserving, human left from human free. But this Usurper his encroachment proud Stayes not on Man; to God his Tower intends Siege and defiance: Wretched man! what food Will he convey up thither to sustain Himself and his rash Armie, where thin Aire Above the Clouds will pine his entrails gross, And famish him of Breath, if not of Bread? To whom thus Michael. Justly thou abhorr'st That Son, who on the quiet state of men Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue Rational Libertie; yet know withall, Since thy original lapse, true Libertie Is lost, which alwayes with right Reason dwells Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual being: Reason in man obscur'd, or not obeyd, Immediately inordinate desires And upstart Passions catch the Government From Reason, and to servitude reduce Man till then free. Therefore since hee permits Within himself unworthie Powers to reign Over free Reason, God in judgement just Subjects him from without to violent Lords; Who oft as undeservedly enthrall His outward freedom: Tyrannie must be, Though to the Tyrant thereby no excuse. Yet somtimes Nations will decline so low From vertue, which is reason, that no wrong, But Justice, and some fatal curse annext Deprives them of thir outward libertie, Thir inward lost: Witness th' irreverent Son Of him who built the Ark, who for the shame Don to his Father, heard this heavie curse, Servant of Seruants, on his vitious Race. Thus will this latter, as the former World, Still tend from bad to worse, till God at last Wearied with their iniquities, withdraw His presence from among them, and avert His holy Eyes; resolving from thenceforth To leave them to thir own polluted wayes; And one peculiar Nation to select From all the rest, of whom to be invok'd, A Nation from one faithful man to spring: Him on this side Euphrates yet residing, Bred up in Idol-worship; O that men (Canst thou believe?) should be so stupid grown, While yet the Patriark liv'd, who scap'd the Flood, As to forsake the living God, and fall To worship thir own work in Wood and Stone For Gods! yet him God the most High voutsafes To call by Vision from his Fathers house, His kindred and false Gods, into a Land Which he will shew him, and from him will raise A mightie Nation, and upon him showre His benediction so, that in his Seed All Nations shall be blest; he straight obeys, Not knowing to what Land, yet firm believes: I see him, but thou canst not, with what Faith He leaves his Gods, his Friends, and native Soile Ur of Chaldaea, passing now the Ford To Haran, after him a cumbrous Train Of Herds and Flocks, and numerous servitude; Not wandring poor, but trusting all his wealth With God, who call'd him, in a land unknown. Canaan he now attains, I see his Tents Pitcht about Sechem, and the neighbouring Plaine Of Moreh; there by promise he receaves Gift to his Progenie of all that Land; From Hamath Northward to the Desert South (Things by thir names I call, though yet unnam'd) From Hermon East to the great Western Sea, Mount Hermon, yonder Sea, each place behold In prospect, as I point them; on the shoare Mount Carmel; here the double-founted stream Jordan, true limit Eastward; but his Sons Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of Hills. This ponder, that all Nations of the Earth Shall in his Seed be blessed; by that Seed Is meant thy great deliverer, who shall bruise The Serpents head; whereof to thee anon Plainlier shall be reveald. This Patriarch blest, Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, A Son, and of his Son a Grand-childe leaves, Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown; The Grandchilde with twelve Sons increast, departs From Canaan, to a Land hereafter call'd Egypt, divided by the River Nile; See where it flows, disgorging at seaven mouthes Into the Sea: to sojourn in that Land He comes invited by a yonger Son In time of dearth, a Son whose worthy deeds Raise him to be the second in that Realme Of Pharao: there he dies, and leaves his Race Growing into a Nation, and now grown Suspected to a sequent King, who seeks To stop thir overgrowth, as inmate guests Too numerous; whence of guests he makes them slaves Inhospitably, and kills thir infant Males: Till by two brethren (those two brethren call Moses and Aaron) sent from God to claime His people from enthralment, they return With glory and spoile back to thir promis'd Land. But first the lawless Tyrant, who denies To know thir God, or message to regard, Must be compelld by Signes and judgements dire; To blood unshed the Rivers must be turnd, Frogs, Lice and Flies must all his Palace fill With loath'd intrusion, and fill all the land; His Cattel must of Rot and Murren die, Botches and blaines must all his flesh imboss, And all his people; Thunder mixt with Haile, Haile mixt with fire must rend th'Egyptian Skie And wheel on th' Earth, devouring where it rouls; What it devours not, Herb, or Fruit, or Graine, A darksom Cloud of Locusts swarming down Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green: Darkness must overshadow all his bounds, Palpable darkness, and blot out three dayes; Last with one midnight stroke all the first-born Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds The River-dragon tam'd at length submits To let his sojourners depart, and oft Humbles his stubborn heart, but still as Ice More hard'nd after thaw, till in his rage Pursuing whom he late dismissd, the Sea Swallows him with his Host, but them lets pass As on drie land between two christal walls, Aw'd by the rod of Moses so to stand Divided, till his rescu'd gain thir shoar: Such wondrous power God to his Saint will lend, Though present in his Angel, who shall goe Before them in a Cloud, and Pillar of Fire, By day a Cloud, by night a Pillar of Fire, To guide them in thir journey, and remove Behinde them, while th' obdurat King pursues: All night he will pursue, but his approach Darkness defends between till morning Watch; Then through the Firey Pillar and the Cloud God looking forth will trouble all his Host And craze thir Chariot wheels: when by command Moses once more his potent Rod extends Over the Sea; the Sea his Rod obeys; On thir imbattelld ranks the Waves return, And overwhelm thir Warr: the Race elect Safe towards Canaan from the shoar advance Through the wilde Desert, not the readiest way, Least entring on the Canaanite allarmd Warr terrifie them inexpert, and feare Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather Inglorious life with servitude; for life To noble and ignoble is more sweet Untraind in Armes, where rashness leads not on. This also shall they gain by thir delay In the wide Wilderness, there they shall found Thir government, and thir great Senate choose Through the twelve Tribes, to rule by Laws ordaind: God from the Mount of Sinai, whose gray top Shall tremble, he descending, will himself In Thunder Lightning and loud Trumpets sound Ordaine them Lawes; part such as appertaine To civil Justice, part religious Rites Of sacrifice, informing them, by types And shadows, of that destind Seed to bruise The Serpent, by what means he shall achieve Mankinds deliverance. But the voice of God To mortal eare is dreadful; they beseech That Moses might report to them his will, And terror cease; he grants what they besaught Instructed that to God is no access Without Mediator, whose high Office now Moses in figure beares, to introduce One greater, of whose day he shall foretell, And all the Prophets in thir Age the times Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus Laws and Rites Establisht, such delight hath God in Men Obedient to his will, that he voutsafes Among them to set up his Tabernacle, The holy One with mortal Men to dwell: By his prescript a Sanctuary is fram'd Of Cedar, overlaid with Gold, therein An Ark, and in the Ark his Testimony, The Records of his Cov'nant, over these A Mercie-seat of Gold between the wings Of two bright Cherubim, before him burn Seaven Lamps as in a Zodiac representing The Heav'nly fires; over the Tent a Cloud Shall rest by Day, a fiery gleame by Night, Save when they journie, and at length they come, Conducted by his Angel to the Land Promisd to Abraham and his Seed: the rest Were long to tell, how many Battels fought, How many Kings destroyd, and Kingdoms won, Or how the Sun shall in mid Heav'n stand still A day entire, and Nights due course adjourne, Mans voice commanding, Sun in Gibeon stand, And thou Moon in the vale of Aialon, Till Israel overcome; so call the third From Abraham, Son of Isaac, and from him His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win. Here Adam interpos'd. O sent from Heav'n, Enlightner of my darkness, gracious things Thou hast reveald, those chiefly which concerne Just Abraham and his Seed: now first I finde Mine eyes true op'ning, and my heart much eas'd, Erwhile perplext with thoughts what would becom Of mee and all Mankind; but now I see His day, in whom all Nations shall be blest, Favour unmerited by me, who sought Forbidd'n knowledge by forbidd'n means. This yet I apprehend not, why to those Among whom God will deigne to dwell on Earth So many and so various Laws are giv'n; So many Laws argue so many sins Among them; how can God with such reside? To whom thus Michael. Doubt not but that sin Will reign among them, as of thee begot; And therefore was Law given them to evince Thir natural pravitie, by stirring up Sin against Law to fight; that when they see Law can discover sin, but not remove, Save by those shadowie expiations weak, The bloud of Bulls and Goats, they may conclude Some bloud more precious must be paid for Man, Just for unjust, that in such righteousness To them by Faith imputed, they may finde 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 imperfet, and but giv'n With purpose to resign them in full time Up to a better Cov'nant, disciplin'd From shadowie Types to Truth, from Flesh to Spirit, From imposition of strict Laws, to free Acceptance of large Grace, from servil fear To filial, works of Law to works of Faith. And therefore shall not Moses, though of God Highly belov'd, being but the Minister Of Law, his people into Canaan lead; But Joshua whom the Gentiles Jesus call, His Name and Office bearing, who shall quell The adversarie Serpent, and bring back Through the worlds wilderness long wanderd man Safe to eternal Paradise of rest. Meanwhile they in thir earthly Canaan plac't Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins National interrupt thir public peace, Provoking God to raise them enemies: From whom as oft he saves them penitent By Judges first, then under Kings; of whom The second, both for pietie renownd And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive Irrevocable, that his Regal Throne For ever shall endure; the like shall sing All Prophecie, That of the Royal Stock Of David(so I name this King) shall rise A Son, the Womans Seed to thee foretold, Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust All Nations, and to Kings foretold, of Kings The last, for of his Reign shall be no end. But first a long succession must ensue, And his next Son for Wealth and Wisdom fam'd, The clouded Ark of God till then in Tents Wandring, shall in a glorious Temple enshrine. Such follow him, as shall be registerd Part good, part bad, of bad the longer scrowle, Whose foul Idolatries, and other faults Heapt to the popular summe, will so incense God, as to leave them, and expose thir Land, Thir Citie, his Temple, and his holy Ark With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey To that proud Citie, whose high Walls thou saw'st Left in confusion,Babylon thence call'd. There in captivitie he lets them dwell The space of seventie years, then brings them back, Remembring mercie, and his Cov'nant sworn To David, stablisht as the dayes of Heav'n. Returnd from Babylon by leave of Kings Thir Lords, whom God dispos'd, the house of God They first re-edifie, and for a while In mean estate live moderate, till grown In wealth and multitude, factious they grow; But first among the Priests dissension springs, Men who attend the Altar, and should most Endeavour Peace: thir strife pollution brings Upon the Temple it self: at last they seise The Scepter, and regard not Davids Sons, Then loose it to a stranger, that the true Anointed King Messiah might be born Barr'd of his right; yet at his Birth a Starr Unseen before in Heav'n proclaims him com, And guides the Eastern Sages, who enquire His place, to offer Incense, Myrrh, and Gold; His place of birth a solemn Angel tells To simple Shepherds, keeping watch by night; They gladly thither haste, and by a Quire Of squadrond Angels hear his Carol sung. A Virgin is his Mother, but his Sire The Power of the most High; he shall ascend The Throne hereditarie, and bound his Reign With earths wide bounds, his glory with the Heav'ns. He ceas'd, discerning Adam with such joy Surcharg'd, as had like grief bin dew'd in tears, Without the vent of words, which these he breathd. O Prophet of glad tidings, finisher Of utmost hope! now clear I understand What oft my steddiest thoughts have searcht in vain, Why our great expectation should be call'd The seed of Woman: Virgin Mother, Haile, High in the love of Heav'n, yet from my Loynes 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 paine: say where and when Thir fight, what stroke shall bruise the Victors heel. To whom thus Michael. Dream not of thir fight, As of a Duel, or the local wounds Of head or heel: not therefore joynes the Son Manhood to God-head, with more strength to foil Thy enemie; nor so is overcome Satan, whose fall from Heav'n, a deadlier bruise, Disabl'd not to give thee thy deaths wound: Which hee, who comes thy Saviour, shall recure, Not by destroying Satan, but his works In thee and in thy Seed: nor can this be, But by fulfilling that which thou didst want, Obedience to the Law of God, impos'd On penaltie of death, and suffering death, The penaltie to thy transgression due, And due to theirs which out of thine will grow: So onely can high Justice rest appaid. The Law of God exact he shall fulfill Both by obedience and by love, though love Alone fulfill the Law; thy punishment He shall endure by coming in the Flesh To a reproachful life and cursed death, Proclaiming Life to all who shall believe In his redemption, and that his obedience Imputed becomes theirs by Faith, his merits To save them, not thir own, though legal works. For this he shall live hated, be blasphem'd, Seis'd on by force, judg'd, and to death condemnd A shameful and accurst, naild to the Cross By his own Nation, slaine for bringing Life; But to the Cross he nailes thy Enemies, The Law that is against thee, and the sins Of all mankinde, with him there crucifi'd, Never to hurt them more who rightly trust In this his satisfaction; so he dies, But soon revives, Death over him no power Shall long usurp; ere the third dawning light Returne, the Starres 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 offerd Life Neglect not, and the benefit imbrace By Faith not void of workes: this God-like act Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have dy'd, In sin for ever lost from life; this act Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength Defeating Sin and Death, his two maine armes, And fix farr deeper in his head thir stings Then temporal death shall bruise the Victors heel, Or theirs whom he redeems, a death like sleep, A gentle wafting to immortal Life. Nor after resurrection shall he stay Longer on Earth then certaine times to appeer 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 And his Salvation, them who shall beleeve Baptizing in the profluent stream, the signe Of washing them from guilt of sin to Life Pure, and in mind prepar'd, if so befall, For death, like that which the redeemer dy'd. All Nations they shall teach; for from that day Not onely to the Sons of Abrahams Loines Salvation shall be Preacht, but to the Sons Of Abrahams Faith wherever through the world; So in his seed all Nations shall be blest. Then to the Heav'n of Heav'ns he shall ascend With victory, triumphing through the aire Over his foes and thine; there shall surprise The Serpent, Prince of aire, and drag in Chaines Through all his Realme, and there confounded leave; Then enter into glory, and resume His Seat at Gods right hand, exalted high Above all names in Heav'n; and thence shall come, When this worlds disolution shall be ripe, With glory and power to judge both quick and dead, To judge th' unfaithful dead, but to reward His faithful, and receave them into bliss, Whether in Heav'n or Earth, for then the Earth Shall all be Paradise, far happier place Then this of Eden, and far happier daies. So spake th' Archangel Michael, then paus'd, As at the Worlds great period; and our Sire Replete with joy and wonder thus repli'd. O goodness infinite, goodness immense! That all this good of evil shall produce, And evil turn to good; more wonderful Then that which by creation first brought forth Light out of darkness! full of doubt I stand, Whether I should repent me now of sin By mee done and occasiond, or rejoyce Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring, To God more glory, more good will to Men From God, and over wrauth grace shall abound. But say, if our deliverer up to Heav'n Must reascend, what will betide the few His faithful, left among th' unfaithful herd, The enemies of truth; who then shall guide His people, who defend? will they not deale Wors with his followers then with him they dealt? Be sure they will, said th' Angel; but from Heav'n Hee to his own a Comforter will send, The promise of the Father, who shall dwell His Spirit within them, and the Law of Faith Working through love, upon thir hearts shall write, To guide them in all truth, and also arme With spiritual Armour, able to resist Satans assaults, and quench his fierie darts, What man can do against them, not affraid, Though to the death, against such cruelties With inward consolations recompenc't, And oft supported so as shall amaze Thir proudest persecuters: for the Spirit Powrd first on his Apostles, whom he sends To evangelize the Nations, then on all Baptiz'd, shall them with wondrous gifts endue To speak all Tongues, and do all Miracles, As did thir Lord before them. Thus they win Great numbers of each Nation to receave With joy the tidings brought from Heav'n: at length Thir Ministry perform'd, and race well run, Thir doctrine and thir story written left, They die; but in thir room, as they forewarne, Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous Wolves, Who all the sacred mysteries of Heav'n To thir own vile advantages shall turne Of lucre and ambition, and the truth With superstitions and traditions taint, Left onely 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 joine Secular power, though feigning still to act By spiritual, to themselves appropriating The Spirit of God, promisd alike and giv'n To all Beleevers; and from that pretense, Spiritual Lawes by carnal power shall force On every conscience; Laws which none shall finde Left them inrould, or what the Spirit within Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then But force the Spirit of Grace it self, and binde His consort Libertie; what, but unbuild His living Temples, built by Faith to stand, Thir own Faith not anothers: for on Earth Who against Faith and Conscience can be heard Infallible? yet many will presume: Whence heavie persecution shall arise On all who in the worship persevere Of Spirit and Truth; the rest, farr greater part, Will deem in outward Rites and specious formes Religion satisfi'd; Truth shall retire Bestuck with slandrous darts, and works of Faith Rarely be found: so shall the World goe on, To good malignant, to bad men benigne, Under her own waight groaning till the day Appeer of respiration to the just, And vengeance to the wicked, at return Of him so lately promis'd to thy aid The Womans seed, obscurely then foretold, Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord, Last in the Clouds from Heav'n to be reveald In glory of the Father, to dissolve Satan with his perverted World, then raise From the conflagrant mass, purg'd and refin'd, New Heav'ns, new Earth, Ages of endless date Founded in righteousness and peace and love To bring forth fruits Joy and eternal Bliss. He ended; and thus Adam last reply'd. How soon hath thy prediction, Seer blest, Measur'd this transient World, the Race of time, Till time stand fixt: beyond is all abyss, Eternitie, whose end no eye can reach. Greatly instructed I shall hence depart, Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill Of knowledge, what this Vessel can containe; Beyond which was my folly to aspire. Henceforth I learne, that to obey is best, And love with fear the onely God, to walk As in his presence, ever to observe His providence, and on him sole depend, Mercifull over all his works, with good Still overcoming evil, and by small Accomplishing great things, by things deemd weak Subverting worldly strong, and worldly wise By simply meek; that suffering for Truths sake Is fortitude to highest victorie, And to the faithful Death the Gate of Life; Taught this by his example whom I now Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest. To whom thus also th' Angel last repli'd: This having learnt, thou hast attaind the summe Of wisdome; hope no higher, though all the Starrs Thou knewst by name, and all th' ethereal Powers, All secrets of the deep, all Natures works, Or works of God in Heav'n, Aire, Earth, or Sea, And all the riches of this World enjoydst, And all the rule, one Empire; onely add Deeds to thy knowledge answerable, add Faith, Add vertue, Patience, Temperance, add Love, By name to come call'd Charitie, the soul Of all the rest: then wilt thou not be loath To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess A paradise within thee, happier farr. Let us descend now therefore from this top Of Speculation; for the hour precise Exacts our parting hence; and see the Guards, By mee encampt on yonder Hill, expect Thir motion, at whose Front a flaming Sword, In signal of remove, waves fiercely round; We may no longer stay: go, waken Eve; Her also I with gentle Dreams have calm'd Portending good, and all her spirits compos'd To meek submission: thou at season fit Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard, Chiefly what may concern her Faith to know, The great deliverance by her Seed to come (For by the Womans Seed) on all Mankind. That ye may live, which will be many dayes, Both in one Faith unanimous though sad, With cause for evils past, yet much more cheer'd With meditation on the happie end. He ended, and they both descend the Hill; Descended,Adam to the Bowre where Eve Lay sleeping ran before, but found her wak't; And thus with words not sad she him receav'd. Whence thou returnst, and whither wentst, I know; For God is also in sleep, and Dreams advise, Which he hath sent propitious, some great good Presaging, since with sorrow and hearts distress Wearied I fell asleep: but now lead on; In mee is no delay; with thee to goe, Is to stay here; without thee here to stay, Is to go hence unwilling; thou to mee Art all things under Heav'n, all places thou, Who for my wilful crime art banisht hence. This further consolation yet secure I carry hence; though all by mee is lost, Such favour I unworthie am voutsaft, By mee the Promis'd Seed shall all restore. So spake our Mother Eve, and Adam heard Well pleas'd, but answer'd not; for now too nigh Th' Archangel stood, and from the other Hill To thir fixt Station, all in bright array The Cherubim descended; on the ground Gliding meteorous, as Ev'ning Mist Ris'n from a River o're the marish glides, And gathers ground fast at the Labourers heel Homeward returning. High in Front advanc't, The brandisht Sword of God before them blaz'd Fierce as a Comet; which with torrid heat, And vapour as the Libyan Air adust, Began to parch that temperate Clime; whereat In either hand the hastning Angel caught Our lingring Parents, and to th' Eastern Gate Led them direct, and down the Cliff as fast To the subjected Plaine; then disappeer'd. They looking back, all th' Eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late thir happie seat, Wav'd over by that flaming Brand, the Gate With dreadful Faces throng'd and fierie Armes: Som natural tears they drop'd, but wip'd them soon; The World was all before them, where to choose Thir place of rest, and Providence thir guide: They hand in hand with wandring steps and slow, Through Eden took thir solitarie way.

HIgh on a Throne of Royal State, which far Outshon the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showrs on her Kings Barbaric Pearl and Gold, Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd To that bad eminence; and from despair Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue Vain Warr with Heav'n, and by success untaught His proud imaginations thus displaid. Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heav'n, For since no deep within her gulf can hold Immortal vigor, though opprest and fall'n, I give not Heav'n for lost.   From this descent Celestial vertues rising, will appear More glorious and more dread then from no fall, And trust themselves to fear no second fate: Mee though just right, and the fixt Laws of Heav'n Did first create your Leader, next free choice, With what besides, in Counsel or in Fight, Hath bin achievd of merit, yet this loss Thus farr at least recover'd, hath much more Establisht in a safe unenvied Throne Yielded with full consent.   The happier state In Heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw Envy from each inferior; but who here Will envy whom the highest place exposes Formost to stand against the Thunderers aim Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share Of endless pain? where there is then no good For which to strive, no strife can grow up there From Faction; for none sure will claim in Hell Precedence, none, whose portion is so small Of present pain, that with ambitious mind Will covet more.   With this advantage then To union, and firm Faith, and firm accord, More then can be in Heav'n, we now return To claim our just inheritance of old, Surer to prosper then prosperity Could have assur'd us; and by what best way, Whether of open Warr or covert guile, We now debate; who can advise, may speak. He ceas'd, and next him Moloc, Scepter'd King Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Spirit That fought in Heav'n; now fiercer by despair: His trust was with th' Eternal to be deem'd Equal in strength, and rather then be less Car'd not to be at all; with that care lost Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse He reck'd not, and these words thereafter spake. My sentence is for open Warr: Of Wiles, More unexpert, I boast not: them let those Contrive who need, or when they need, not now. For while they sit contriving, shall the rest, Millions that stand in Arms, and longing wait The Signal to ascend, sit lingring here Heav'ns fugitives, and for thir dwelling place Accept this dark opprobrious Den of shame, The Prison of his Tyranny who Reigns By our delay? no, let us rather choose Arm'd with Hell flames and fury all at once O're Heav'ns high Towrs to force resistless way, Turning our Tortures into horrid Arms Against the Torturer; when to meet the noise Of his Almighty Engin he shall hear Infernal Thunder, and for Lightning see Black fire and horror shot with equal rage Among his Angels; and his Throne it self Mixt with Tartarean Sulphur, and strange fire, His own invented Torments.   But perhaps The way seems difficult and steep to scale With upright wing against a higher foe. Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench Of that forgetful Lake benumm not still, That in our proper motion we ascend Up to our native seat: descent and fall To us is adverse.   Who but felt of late When the fierce Foe hung on our brok'n Rear Insulting, and pursu'd us through the Deep, With what compulsion and laborious flight We sunk thus low?   Th' ascent is easie 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 Then to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn'd In this abhorred deep to utter woe; Where pain of unextinguishable fire Must exercise us without hope of end The Vassals of his anger, when the Scourge Inexorably, and the torturing hour Calls us to Penance?   More destroy'd then thus We should be quite abolisht and expire. What fear we then? what doubt we to incense His utmost ire? which to the highth enrag'd, Will either quite consume us, and reduce To nothing this essential, happier farr Then miserable to have eternal being: Or if our substance be indeed Divine, And cannot cease to be, we are at worst On this side nothing; and by proof we feel Our power sufficient to disturb his Heav'n, And with perpetual inrodes to Allarme, Though inaccessible, his fatal Throne: Which if not Victory is yet Revenge. He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd Desperate revenge, and Battel dangerous To less then Gods.   On th' other side up rose Belial, in act more graceful and humane; A fairer person lost not Heav'n; he seemd For dignity compos'd and high exploit: But all was false and hollow; though his Tongue Dropt Manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, to perplex and dash Maturest Counsels: for his thoughts were low; To vice industrious, but to Nobler deeds Timorous and slothful: yet he pleas'd the ear, And with perswasive accent thus began. I should be much for open Warr, O Peers, As not behind in hate; if what was urg'd Main reason to perswade immediate Warr, Did not disswade 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 Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair And utter dissolution, as the scope Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. First, what Revenge? the Towrs of Heav'n are fill'd With Armed watch, that render all access Impregnable; oft on the bordering Deep Encamp thir Legions, or with obscure wing Scout farr and wide into the Realm of night, Scorning surprize.   Or could we break our way By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise With blackest Insurrection, to confound Heav'ns purest Light, yet our great Enemy All incorruptible would on his Throne Sit unpolluted, and th' Ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire Victorious.   Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair: we must exasperate Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rage, And that must end us, that must be our cure, To be no more; sad cure; for who would loose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through Eternity, To perish rather, swallowd up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night, Devoid of sense and motion? and who knows, Let this be good, whether our angry Foe Can give it, or will ever? how he can Is doubtful; that he never will is sure. Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, Belike through impotence, or unaware, To give his Enemies thir wish, and end Them in his anger, whom his anger saves To punish endless? wherefore cease we then? Say they who counsel Warr, we are decreed, Reserv'd and destin'd 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? What when we fled amain, pursu'd and strook With Heav'ns afflicting Thunder, and besought The Deep to shelter us? this Hell then seem'd A refuge from those wounds: or when we lay Chain'd on the burning Lake? that sure was worse. What if the breath that kindl'd those grim fires Awak'd should blow them into sevenfold rage And plunge us in the flames? or from above Should intermitted vengeance arm again His red right hand to plague us? what if all Her stores were open'd, and this Firmament Of Hell should spout her Cataracts of Fire Impendent horrors, threatning hideous fall One day upon our heads; while we perhaps Designing or exhorting glorious warr, Caught in a fierie Tempest shall be hurl'd Each on his rock transfixt, the sport and prey Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk Under yon boyling Ocean, wrapt in Chains; There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unrepreevd, Ages of hopeless end; this would be worse. Warr therefore, open or conceal'd, alike My voice disswades; for what can force or guile With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye Views all things at one view? he from heav'ns highth All these our motions vain, sees and derides; Not more Almighty to resist our might Then wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. Shall we then live thus vile, the Race of Heav'n Thus trampl'd, thus expell'd to suffer here Chains and these Torments? better these then worse By my advice; since fate inevitable Subdues us, and Omnipotent Decree, The Victors will.   To suffer, as to doe, Our strength is equal, nor the Law unjust That so ordains: this was at first resolv'd, If we were wise, against so great a foe Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. I laugh, when those who at the Spear are bold And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear What yet they know must follow, to endure Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain, The sentence of thir Conquerour: This is now Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear, Our Supream Foe in time may much remit His anger, and perhaps thus farr remov'd Not mind us not offending, satisfi'd With what is punish't; whence these raging fires Will slack'n, if his breath stir not thir flames. Our purer essence then will overcome Thir noxious vapour, or enur'd not feel, Or chang'd at length, and to the place conformd In temper and in nature, will receive Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain; This horror will grow milde, this darkness light, Besides what hope the never-ending flight Of future dayes may bring, what chance, what change Worth waiting, since our present lot appeers For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, If we procure not to our selves more woe. Thus Belial with words cloath'd in reasons garb Counsel'd ignoble ease, and peaceful sloath, Not peace: and after him thus Mammon spake. Either to disinthrone the King of Heav'n We warr, if warr be best, or to regain Our own right lost: him to unthrone we then May hope when everlasting Fathe shall yeild To fickle Chance and Chaos judge the strife: The former vain to hope argues as vain The latter: for what place can be for us Within Heav'ns bound, unless Heav'ns Lord supream We overpower?   Suppose he should relent And publish Grace to all, on promise made Of new Subjection; with what eyes could we Stand in his presence humble, and receive Strict Laws impos'd, to celebrate his Throne With warbl'd Hymns, and to his God head sing Forc't Halleluia's; while he Lordly sits Our envied Sovran, and his Altar breathes Ambrosial Odours and Ambrosial Flowers, Our servile offerings.   This must be our task In Heav'n this our delight; how wearisom Eternity so spent in worship paid To whom we hate.   Let us not then pursue By force impossible, by leave obtain'd Unacceptable, though in Heav'n, our state Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek Our own good from our selves, and from our own Live to our selves, though in this vast recess, Free, and to none accountable, preferring Hard liberty before the easie yoke Of servile Pomp.   Our greatness will appeer Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse We can create, and in what place so e're Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain Through labour and indurance.   This deep world Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst Thick clouds and dark doth Heav'ns all-ruling Sire Choose to reside, his Glory unobscur'd, And with the Majesty of darkness round Covers his Throne; from whence deep thunders roar Must'ring thir rage, and Heav'n resembles Hell? As he our darkness, cannot we his Light Imitate when we please? This Desart soile Wants not her hidden lustre, Gemms and Gold; Nor want we skill or Art, from whence to raise Magnificence; and what can Heav'n shew more? Our torments also may in length of time Become our Elements, these piercing Fires As soft as now severe, our temper chang'd Into their temper; which must needs remove The sensible of pain.   All things invite To peaceful Counsels, and the settl'd State Of order, how in safety best we may Compose our present evils, with regard Of what we are and were, dismissing quite All thoughts of warr: ye have what I advise. He scarce had finisht, when such murmur filld Th' Assembly, as when hollow Rocks retain The sound of blustring winds, which all night long Had rous'd the Sea, now with hoarse cadence lull Sea-faring men orewatcht, whose Bark by chance Or Pinnace anchors in a craggy Bay After the Tempest:   Such applause was heard As Mammon ended, and his Sentence pleas'd, Advising peace: for such another Field They dreaded worse then Hell: so much the fear Of Thunder and the Sword of Michael Wrought still within them; and no less desire To found this nether Empire, which might rise By pollicy, and long process of time, In emulation opposite to Heav'n. Which when Beelzebub perceiv'd, then whom, Satan except, none higher sat, with grave Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd A Pillar of State; deep on his Front engraven Deliberation sat and public care; And Princely counsel in his face yet shon, Majestic though in ruin: sage he stood With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest Monarchies; his look Drew audience and attention still as Night Or Summers Noon-tide air, while thus he spake. Thrones and Imperial Powers, off-spring of heav'n Ethereal Vertues; or these Titles now Must we renounce, and changing stile 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, And know not that the King of Heav'n hath doom'd This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat Beyond his Potent arm, to live exempt From Heav'ns high jurisdiction, in new League Banded against his Throne, but to remaine In strictest bondage, though thus far remov'd, Under th' inevitable curb, reserv'd His captive multitude: For he, be sure In heighth or depth, still first and last will Reign Sole King, and of his Kingdom loose no part By our revolt, but over Hell extend His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule Us here, as with his Golden those in Heav'n. What sit we then projecting peace and Warr? Warr hath determin'd us, and foild with loss Irreparable; tearms of peace yet none Voutsaf't or sought; for what peace will be giv'n To us enslav'd, but custody severe, And stripes, and arbitrary punishment Inflicted? and what peace can we return, But to our power hostility and hate, Untam'd reluctance, and revenge though slow, Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least May reap his conquest, and may least rejoyce In doing what we most in suffering feel? Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need With dangerous expedition to invade Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault or Siege, Or ambush from the Deep.   What if we find Some easier enterprize? There is a place (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav'n Err not) another World, the happy seat Of some new Race call'd Man, about this time To be created like to us, though less In power and excellence, but favour'd more Of him who rules above; so was his will Pronounc'd among the Gods, and by an Oath, That shook Heav'ns whol circumference, confirm'd. Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn What creatures there inhabit, of what mould, Or substance, how endu'd, and what thir Power, And where thir weakness, how attempted best, By force or suttlety: Though Heav'n be shut, And Heav'ns high Arbitrator sit secure In his own strength, this place may lye expos'd The utmost border of his Kingdom, left To their defence who hold it: here perhaps Som advantagious act may be achiev'd By sudden onset, either with Hell fire To waste his whole Creation, or possess All as our own, and drive as we were driven, The punie habitants, or if not drive, Seduce them to our Party, that thir God May prove thir foe, and with repenting hand Abolish his own works.   This would surpass Common revenge, and interrupt his joy In our Confusion, and our joy upraise In his disturbance; when his darling Sons HurI'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse Thir frail Original, and faded bliss, Faded so soon.   Advise if this be worth Attempting, or to sit in darkness here Hatching vain Empires. Thus Beelzebub Pleaded his devilish Counsel, first devis'd By Satan, and in part propos'd: for whence, But from the Author of all ill could Spring So deep a malice, to confound the race Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell To mingle and involve, done all to spite The great Creatour?   But thir spite still serves His glory to augment.   The bold design Pleas'd highly those infernal States, and joy Sparkl'd in all thir eyes; with full assent They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews. Well have ye judg'd, well ended long debate, Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are, Great things resolv'd; which from the lowest deep Will once more lift us up, in spight of Fate, Neerer our ancient Seat; perhaps in view Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring Arms And opportune excursion we may chance Re-enter Heav'n; or else in some milde Zone Dwell not unvisited of Heav'ns fair Light Secure, and at the brightning Orient beam Purge off this gloom; the soft delicious Air, To heal the scarr of these corrosive Fires Shall breathe her balme.   But first whom shall we send In search of this new world, whom shall we find Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandring feet The dark unbottom'd infinite Abyss And through the palpable obscure find out His uncouth way, or spread his aerie flight Upborn with indefatigable wings Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive The happy Ile; what strength, what art can then Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe Through the strict Senteries and Stations thick Of Angels watching round?   Here he had need All circumspection, and we now no less Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send, The weight of all and our last hope relies. This said, he sat; and expectation held His look suspence, awaiting who appeer'd To second, or oppose, or undertake The perilous attempt: but all sat mute, Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each In others count'nance read his own dismay Astonisht: none among the choice and prime Of those Heav'n-warring Champions could be found So hardie as to proffer or accept Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais'd Above his fellows, with Monarchal pride Conscious of highest worth, unmov'd thus spake. O Progeny of Heav'n, Empyreal Thrones, With reason hath deep silence and demurr Seis'd us, though undismaid: long is the way And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light; Our prison strong, this huge convex of Fire, Outrageous to devour, immures us round Ninefold, and gates of burning Adamant Barr'd over us prohibit all egress. These past, if any pass, the void profound Of unessential Night receives him next Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being Threatens him, plung'd in that abortive gulf. If thence he scape into whatever world, Or unknown Region, what remains him less Then unknown dangers and as hard escape. But I should ill become this Throne, O Peers, And this Imperial Sov'ranty, adorn'd With splendor, arm'd with power, if aught propos'd And judg'd of public moment, in the shape Of difficulty or danger could deterr Mee from attempting.   Wherefore do I assume These Royalties, 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 High honourd sits? Go therfore 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 tollerable; if there be cure or charm To respite or deceive, or slack the pain Of this ill Mansion: intermit no watch Against a wakeful Foe, while I abroad Through all the Coasts of dark destruction seek Deliverance for us all: this enterprize None shall partake with me.   Thus saying rose The Monarch, and prevented all reply, Prudent, least from his resolution rais'd Others among the chief might offer now (Certain to be refus'd) what erst they feard; And so refus'd might in opinion stand His Rivals, winning cheap the high repute Which he through hazard huge must earn.   But they Dreaded not more th' adventure then his voice Forbidding; and at once with him they rose; Thir rising all at once was as the sound Of Thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend With awful reverence prone; and as a God Extoll him equal to the highest in Heav'n: Nor fail'd they to express how much they prais'd, That for the general safety he despis'd His own: for neither do the Spirits damn'd Loose all thir virtue; least bad men should boast Thir specious deeds on earth, which glory excites, Or clos ambition varnisht o're with zeal. Thus they thir doubtful consultations dark Ended rejoycing in thir matchless Chief: As when from mountain tops the dusky clouds Ascending, while the North wind sleeps, o'respread Heav'ns chearful face, the lowring Element Scowls ore the dark'nd lantskip Snow, or showre; If chance the radiant Sun with farewell sweet Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive, The birds thir notes renew, and bleating herds Attest thir joy, that hill and valley rings. O shame to men!   Devil with Devil damn'd Firm concord holds, men onely disagree Of Creatures rational, though under hope Of heavenly Grace: and God proclaiming peace, Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife Among themselves, and levie cruel warres, Wasting the Earth, each other to destroy: As if (which might induce us to accord) Man had not hellish foes anow besides, That day and night for his destruction waite. The Stygian Counsel thus dissolv'd; and forth In order came the grand infernal Peers, Midst came thir mighty Paramount, and seemd Alone th' Antagonist of Heav'n, nor less Than Hells dread Emperour with pomp Supream, And God-like imitated State; him round A Globe of fierie Seraphim inclos'd With bright imblazonrie, and horrent Arms. Then of thir Session ended they bid cry With Trumpets regal sound the great result: Toward the four winds four speedy Cherubim Put to thir mouths the sounding Alchymie By Haralds voice explain'd: the hollow Abyss Heard farr and wide, and all the host of Hell With deafning shout, return'd them loud acclaim. Thence more at ease thir minds and somwhat rais'd By false presumptuous hope, the ranged powers Disband, and wandring, each his several way Pursues, as inclination or sad choice Leads him perplext, where he may likeliest find Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain The irksom hours, till this great Chief return. Part on the Plain, or in the Air sublime Upon the wing, or in swift Race contend, As at th' Olympian Games or Pythian fields; Part curb thir fierie Steeds, or shun the Goal With rapid wheels, or fronted Brigads form. As when to warn proud Cities warr appears Wag'd in the troubl'd Skie, and Armies rush To Battel in the Clouds, before each Van Prick forth the Aerie Knights, and couch thir 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 In whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wilde uproar. As when Alcides from Oechalia Crown'd With conquest, felt th' envenom'd robe, and tore Through pain up by the roots Thessalian Pines, And Lichas from the top of Oeta threw Into th'Euboic Sea.   Others more milde, Retreated in a silent valley, sing With notes Angelical to many a Harp Thir own Heroic deeds and hapless fall By doom of Battel; and complain that Fate Free Vertue should enthrall to Force or Chance. Thir Song was partial, but the harmony (What could it less when Spirits immortal sing?) Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment The thronging audience.   In discourse more sweet (For Eloquence the Soul, Song charms the Sense,) Others apart sat on a Hill retir'd, In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will and Fate, Fixt Fate, free will, foreknowledg absolute, And found no end, in wandring mazes lost. Of good and evil much they argu'd then, Of happiness and final misery, Passion and Apathie, and glory and shame, Vain wisdom all, and false Philosophie: Yet with a pleasing sorcerie could charm Pain for a while or anguish, and excite Fallacious hope, or arm th' obdured brest With stubborn patience as with triple steel. Another part in Squadrons and gross Bands, On bold adventure to discover wide That dismal world, if any Clime perhaps Might yield them easier habitation, bend Four ways thir flying March, along the Banks Of four infernal Rivers that disgorge Into the burning Lake thir baleful streams; Abhorred Styx the flood of deadly hate, Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep; Cocytus, nam'd of lamentation loud Heard on the ruful stream; fierce Phlegeton Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. Farr off from these a slow and silent stream, Lethe the River of Oblivion roules Her watrie Labyrinth, whereof who drinks, Forthwith his former state and being forgets, Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. Beyond this flood a frozen Continent Lies dark and wilde, beat with perpetual storms Of Whirlwind and dire Hail, which on firm land Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems Of ancient pile; all else deep snow and ice, A gulf profound as that Serbonian Bog Betwixt Damiata and mount Casius old, Where Armies whole have sunk: the parching Air Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of Fire. Thither by harpy-footed Furies hail'd, At certain revolutions all the damn'd Are brought: and feel by turns the bitter change Of fierce extreams, extreams by change more fierce, From Beds of raging Fire to starve in Ice Thir soft Ethereal warmth, and there to pine Immovable, infixt, and frozen round, Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire. They ferry over this Lethean Sound Both to and fro, thir sorrow to augment, And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach The tempting stream, with one small drop to loose In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe, All in one moment, and so neer the brink; But Fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards The Ford, and of it self the water flies All taste of living wight, as once it fled The lip of Tantalus.   Thus roving on In confus'd march forlorn, th' adventrous Bands With shuddring horror pale, and eyes agast View'd first thir lamentable lot, and found No rest: through many a dark and drearie Vaile They pass'd, and many a Region dolorous, O're many a Frozen, many a fierie Alpe, Rocks, Caves, Lakes, Fens, Bogs, Dens, and shades of death, A Universe of death, which God by curse Created evil, for evil only good, Where all life dies, death lives, and Nature breeds, Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, Abominable, inutterable, and worse Than Fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd, Gorgons and Hydra's, and Chimera's dire. Mean while the Adversary of God and Man, Satan with thoughts inflam'd of highest design, Puts on swift wings, and towards the Gates of Hell Explores his solitary flight; som times He scours the right hand coast, som times the left, Now shaves with level wing the Deep, then soares Up to the fiery Concave touring high. As when farr off at Sea a Fleet descri'd Hangs in the Clouds, by Aequinoctial Winds Close sailing from Bengala, or the Iles Of Ternate and Tidore, whence Merchants bring Thir spicie Drugs: they on the Trading Flood Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape Ply stemming nightly toward the Pole.   So seem'd Farr off the flying Fiend: at last appeer Hell bounds high reaching to the horrid Roof, And thrice threefold the Gates; three folds were Brass, Three Iron, three of Adamantine Rock, Impenetrable, impal'd with circling fire, Yet unconsum'd.   Before the Gates there sat On either side a formidable shape; The one seem'd Woman to the waste, and fair, But ended foul in many a scaly fould 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 Cerberian mouths full loud, and rung A hideous Peal: yet, when they list, would creep, If aught disturb'd thir noyse, into her woomb, And kennel there, yet there still bark'd and howl'd, Within unseen.   Farr less abhorrd than these Vex'd Scylla bathing in the Sea that parts Calabria from the hoarce Trinacrian shore: Nor uglier follow the Night-Hag, when call'd In secret, riding through the Air she comes Lur'd with the smell of infant blood, to dance With Lapland Witches, while the labouring Moon Eclipses at thir charms.   The other shape, If shape it might be call'd that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joynt, or limb, Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, For each seem'd either; black it stood as Night, Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell, And shook a dreadful Dart; what seem'd his head The likeness of a Kingly Crown had on. Satan was now at hand, and from his seat The Monster moving onward came as fast With horrid strides, Hell trembled as he strode. Th' undaunted Fiend what this might be admir'd, Admir'd, not fear'd; God and his Son except, Created thing naught valu'd he nor shun'd; And with disdainful look thus first began. Whence and what art thou, execrable shape, That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated Front athwart my way To yonder Gates? through them I mean to pass, That be assur'd, without leave askt of thee: Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heav'n. To whom the Goblin full of wrauth reply'd, Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou hee, Who first broke peace in Heav'n and Faith, till then Unbrok'n, and in proud rebellious Arms Drew after him the third part of Heav'ns Sons Conjur'd against the highest, for which both Thou And they outcast from God, are here condemn'd To waste Eternal dayes in woe and pain? And reck'n'st thou thy self 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?   Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, Least with a whip of Scorpions I pursue Thy lingring, or with one stroke of this Dart Strange horror seise thee, and pangs unfelt before. So spake the grieslie terrour, and in shape, So speaking and so threatning, grew tenfold More dreadful and deform: on th' other side Incenst with indignation Satan stood Unterrifi'd, and like a Comet burn'd, That fires the length of Ophiucus huge In th' Artick Sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes Pestilence and Warr.   Each at the Head Level'd his deadly aime; thir fatall hands No second stroke intend, and such a frown Each cast at th' other, as when two black Clouds With Heav'ns Artillery fraught, come rattling on Over the Caspian, then stand front to front Hov'ring a space, till Winds the signal blow To joyn thir dark Encounter in mid air: So frownd the mighty Combatants, that Hell Grew darker at thir frown, so matcht they stood; For never but once more was either like To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds Had been achiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung, Had not the Snakie Sorceress that sat Fast by Hell Gate, and kept the fatal Key, Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry'd, Against thy only Son?   What fury O Son, Possesses thee to bend that mortal Dart Against thy Fathers head? and know'st for whom; For him who sits above and laughs the while At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute What e're his wrath, which he calls justice, bids, His wrath which one day will destroy ye both. She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest Forbore, then these to her Satan return'd: So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange Thou interposest, that my sudden hand Prevented spares to tell thee yet by deeds What it intends; till first I know of thee, What thing thou art, thus double-form'd, and why In this infernal Vaile first met thou call'st Me Father, and that Fantasm ca11'st my Son? I know thee not, nor ever saw till now Sight more detestable then him and thee. 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, once deemd so fair In Heav'n, when at th' Assembly, and in sight Of all the Seraphim with thee combin'd In bold conspiracy against Heav'ns King, All on a sudden miserable pain Surpris'd thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzie swumm In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast Threw forth, till on the left side op'ning wide, Likest to thee in shape and count'nance bright, Then shining heav'nly fair, a Goddess arm'd Out of thy head I sprung: amazement seis'd All th' Host of Heav'n; back they recoild affraid At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a Sign Portentous held me; but familiar grown, I pleas'd, and with attractive graces won The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft Thy self in me thy perfect image viewing Becam'st enamour'd, and such joy thou took'st With me in secret, that my womb conceiv'd A growing burden.   Mean while Warr arose, And fields were fought in Heav'n; wherein remaind (For what could else) to our Almighty Foe Cleer Victory, to our part loss and rout Through all the Empyrean: down they fell Driv'n headlong from the Pitch of Heaven, 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 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 now excessive grown Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes. At last this odious offspring whom thou seest Thine own begotten, breaking violent way Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew Transform'd: but he my inbred enemie Forth issu'd, brandishing his fatal Dart Made to destroy: I fled, and cry'd out Death; Hell trembl'd at the hideous Name, and sigh'd From all her Caves, and back resounded Death. I fled, but he pursu'd (though more, it seems, Inflam'd with lust then rage) and swifter far, Mee overtook his mother all dismaid, And in embraces forcible and foule Ingendring with me, of that rape begot These yelling Monsters that with ceasless cry Surround me, as thou sawst, hourly conceiv'd And hourly born, with sorrow infinite To me, for when they list into the womb That bred them they return, and howle and gnaw My Bowels, thir repast; then bursting forth A fresh with conscious terrours vex me round, That rest or intermission none I find. Before mine eyes in opposition sits Grim Death my Son and foe, who sets them on, And me his Parent would full soon devour For want of other prey, but that he knows His end with mine involvd; and knows that I Should prove a bitter Morsel, and his bane, When ever that shall be; so Fate pronounc'd. But thou O Father, I forewarn thee, shun His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope To be invulnerable in those bright Arms, Though temper'd heav'nly, for that mortal dint, Save he who reigns above, none can resist. She finish'd, and the suttle Fiend his lore Soon learnd, now milder, and thus answerd smooth. Dear Daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy Sire, And my fair Son here showst me, the dear pledge Of dalliance had with thee in Heav'n, and joys Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change Befalln us unforeseen, unthought of, know I come no enemie, but to set free From out this dark and dismal house of pain, Both him and thee, and all the heav'nly Host Of Spirits that in our just pretenses arm'd Fell with us from on high: from them I go This uncouth errand sole, and one for all My self expose, with lonely steps to tread Th' unfounded deep, and through the void immense To search with wandring quest a place foretold Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now Created vast and round, a place of bliss In the Pourlieues of Heav'n, and therein plac't A race of upstart Creatures, to supply Perhaps our vacant room, though more remov'd, Least Heav'n surcharg'd with potent multitude Might hap to move new broiles: Be this or aught Then this more secret now design'd, I haste To know, and this once known, shall soon return, And bring ye to the place where Thou and Death Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen Wing silently the buxom Air, imbalm'd With odours; there ye shall be fed and fill'd Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey. He ceas'd, for both seemd highly pleasd, and Death Grinnd horrible a gastly smile, to hear His famine should be fill'd, and blest his mawe Destin'd to that good hour: no less rejoyc'd His mother bad, and thus bespake her Sire. The key of this infernal Pit by due, And by command of Heav'ns all-powerful 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'rmatcht by living might. But what ow 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 confin'd, Inhabitant of Heav'n, and heav'nlie-born, Here in perpetual agonie and pain, With terrors and with clamors compasst round Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed: Thou art my Father, thou my Author, thou My being gav'st me; whom should I obey But thee, whom follow? thou wilt bring me soon To that new world of light and bliss, among The Gods who live at ease, where I shall Reign At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems Thy daughter and thy darling, without end. Thus saying, from her side the fatal Key, Sad instrument of all our woe, she took; And towards the Gate rouling her bestial train, Forthwith the huge Porcullis high up drew, Which but her self not all the Stygian powers Could once have mov'd; then in the key-hole turns Th' intricate wards, and every Bolt and Bar Of massie Iron or sollid Rock with ease Unfast'ns: on a sudden op'n flie With impetuous recoile and jarring sound Th' infernal dores, and on thir hinges grate Harsh Thunder, that the lowest bottom shook Of Erebus.   She op'nd, but to shut Excel'd her power; the Gates wide op'n stood, That with extended wings a Bannerd Host Under spread Ensigns marching might pass through With Horse and Chariots rankt in loose array; So wide they stood, and like a Furnace mouth Cast forth redounding smoak and ruddy flame. Before thir eyes in sudden view appear The secrets of the hoarie deep, a dark Illimitable Ocean without bound, Without dimension, where length, breadth, & highth, And time and place are lost; where eldest Night And Chaos.   Ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal Anarchie, amidst the noise Of endless Warrs, and by confusion stand. For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four Champions fierce Strive here for Maistrie, and to Battel bring Thir embryon Atoms; they around the flag Of each his Faction, in thir several Clanns, Light-arm'd or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slow, Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the Sands Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil, Levied to side with warring Winds, and poise Thir lighter wings.   To whom these most adhere, Hee rules a moment;Chaos Umpire sits, And by decision more imbroiles the fray By which he Reigns: next him high Arbiter Chance governs all.   Into this wilde Abyss, The Womb of nature and perhaps her Grave, Of neither Sea, nor Shore, nor Air, nor Fire, But all these in thir pregnant causes mixt Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless th' Almighty Maker them ordain His dark materials to create more Worlds, Into this wild Abyss the warie fiend Stood on the brink of Hell and look'd a while, Pondering his Voyage; for no narrow frith He had to cross.   Nor was his eare less peal'd With noises loud and ruinous (to compare Great things with small) then when Bellona storms, With all her battering Engines bent to rase Som Capital City; or less then if this frame Of Heav'n were falling, and these Elements In mutinie had from her Axle torn The stedfast Earth.   At last his Sail-broad Vannes He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoak Uplifted spurns the ground, thence many a League As in a cloudy Chair ascending rides Audacious, but that seat soon failing, meets A vast vacuitie: all unawares Fluttring his pennons vain plumb down he drops Ten thousand fadom deep, and to this hour Down had been falling, had not by ill chance The strong rebuff of som tumultuous cloud Instinct with Fire and Nitre hurried him As many miles aloft: that furie stay'd, Quencht in a Boggie Syrtis, neither Sea, Nor good dry Land: nigh founderd on he fares, Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, Half flying; behoves him now both Oare and Saile. As when a Gryfon through the Wilderness With winged course ore Hill or moarie Dale, Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stelth Had from his wakeful custody purloind The guarded Gold: So eagerly the fiend Ore bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings or feet pursues his way, And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flyes: At length a universal hubbub wilde Of stunning sounds and voices all confus'd Born through the hollow dark assaults his eare With loudest vehemence: thither he plyes, Undaunted to meet there what ever power Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask Which way the neerest coast of darkness lyes Bordering on light; when strait behold the Throne Of Chaos, and his dark Pavilion spread Wide on the wasteful Deep; with him Enthron'd Sat Sable-vested Night, eldest of things, The Consort of his Reign; and by them stood Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name Of Demogorgon;Rumor next and Chance, And Tumult and Confusion all imbroild, And Discord with a thousand various mouths. T' whom Satan turning boldly, thus. Ye Powers And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss, Chaos and ancient Night, I come no Spy, With purpose to explore or to disturb The secrets of your Realm, but by constraint Wandring this darksome Desart, as my way, Lies through your spacious Empire up to light, Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek What readiest path leads where your gloomie bounds Confine with Heav'n; or if som other place From your Dominion won, th' Ethereal King Possesses lately, thither to arrive I travel this profound, direct my course; Directed no mean recompence it brings To your behoof, if I that Region lost, All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce To her original darkness and your sway (Which is my present journey) and once more Erect the Standard there of ancient Night; Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge. Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old With faultring speech and visage incompos'd Answer'd. I know thee, stranger, who thou art, That mighty leading Angel, who of late Made head against Heav'ns King, though overthrown. I saw and heard, for such a numerous Host Fled not in silence through the frighted deep With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded; and Heav'n Gates Pourd out by millions her victorious Bands Pursuing.   I upon my Frontieres here Keep residence; if all I can will serve, That little which is left so to defend, Encroacht on still through our intestine broiles Weakning the Scepter of old Night: first Hell Your dungeon stretching far and wide beneath; Now lately Heaven and Earth, another World Hung ore my Realm, link'd in a golden Chain To that side Heav'n from whence your Legions fell: If that way be your walk, you have not farr; So much the neerer danger; go and speed; Havock and spoil and ruin are my gain. He ceas'd; and Satan staid not to reply, But glad that now his Sea should find a shore, With fresh alacritie and force renew'd Springs upward like a Pyramid of fire Into the wilde expanse, and through the shock Of fighting Elements, on all sides round Environ'd wins his way; harder beset And more endanger'd, then when Argo pass'd Through Bosporus betwixt the justling Rocks: Or when Ulysses on the Larbord shunnd Charybdis, and by th' other whirlpool steard. So he with difficulty and labour hard Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour hee; But hee once past, soon after when man fell, Strange alteration!   Sin and Death amain Following his track, such was the will of Heav'n, Pav'd after him a broad and beat'n way Over the dark Abyss, whose boiling Gulf Tamely endur'd a Bridge of wondrous length From Hell continu'd reaching th' utmost Orbe Of this frail World; by which the Spirits perverse With easie intercourse pass to and fro To tempt or punish mortals, except whom God and good Angels guard by special grace. But now at last the sacred influence Of light appears, and from the walls of Heav'n Shoots farr into the bosom of dim Night A glimmering dawn; here Nature first begins Her fardest verge, and Chaos to retire As from her outmost works a brok'd foe With tumult less and with less hostile din, That Satan with less toil, and now with ease Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light And like a weather-beaten Vessel holds Gladly the Port, though Shrouds and Tackle torn; Or in the emptier waste, resembling Air, Weighs his spread wings, at leasure to behold Farr off th' Empyreal Heav'n, extended wide In circuit, undetermind square or round, With Opal Towrs and Battlements adorn'd Of living Saphire, once his native Seat; And fast by hanging in a golden Chain This pendant world, in bigness as a Starr Of smallest Magnitude close by the Moon. Thither full fraught with mischievous revenge, Accurst, and in a cursed hour he hies.

HAil holy Light, ofspring of Heav'n first-born, Or of th' Eternal Coeternal beam May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from Eternitie, 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't 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 then to th'Orphean Lyre I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night, Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down The dark descent, and up to reascend, Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe, And feel thy sovran vital Lamp; but thou Revisit'st not these eyes, that rowle in vain To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn; So thick a drop serene hath quencht thir Orbs, Or dim suffusion veild.   Yet not the more Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt Cleer Spring, or shadie Grove, or Sunnie Hill, Smit with the love of sacred Song; but chief Thee Sion and the flowrie Brooks beneath That wash thy hallowd feet, and warbling flow, Nightly I visit: nor somtimes forget Those other two equal'd with me in Fate, So were I equal'd with them in renown, Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides, And Tiresias and Phineus Prophets old. Then feed on thoughts, that voluntarie move Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful Bird Sings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hid Tunes her nocturnal Note.   Thus with the Year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose, Or flocks, or heards, or human face divine; But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the chearful wayes of men Cut off, and for the Book of knowledg fair Presented with a Universal blanc Of Natures works to mee expung'd and ras'd, And wisdome 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 Starrs, and from his sight receiv'd Beatitude past utterance; on his right The radiant image of his Glory sat, His onely Son; On Earth he first beheld Our two first Parents, yet the onely two Of mankind, in the happie Garden plac't, Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love, Uninterrupted joy, unrivald love In blissful solitude; he then survey'd Hell and the Gulf between, and Satan there Coasting the wall of Heav'n on this side Night In the dun Air sublime, and ready now To stoop with wearied wings, and 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 onely Son foreseeing spake. Onely begotten Son, seest thou what rage Transports our adversarie, whom no bounds Prescrib'd, no barrs of Hell, nor all the chains Heapt on him there, nor yet the main Abyss Wide interrupt can hold; so bent he seems On desparate reveng, that shall redound Upon his own rebellious head.   And now Through all restraint broke loose he wings his way Not farr off Heav'n, in the Precincts of light, Directly towards the new created World, And Man there plac't, with purpose to assay If him by force he can destroy, or worse, By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert For man will hark'n to his glozing lyes, And easily transgress the sole Command, Sole pledge of his obedience: So will fall, Hee and his faithless Progenie: whose fault? Whose but his own? ingrate, he had of mee All he could have; I made him just and right, Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. Such I created all th' Ethereal Powers And Spirits, both them who stood and them who faild; Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. Not free, what proof could they have givn sincere Of true allegiance, constant Faith or Love, Where onely what they needs must do, appeard, 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 despoild, Made passive both, had servd necessitie, Not mee.   They therefore as to right belongd, So were created, nor can justly accuse Thir maker, or thir making, or thir Fate, As if predestination over-rul'd Thir will, dispos'd by absolute Decree Or high foreknowledge; they themselves decreed Thir own revolt, not I: if I foreknew, Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, Which had no less prov'd certain unforeknown. So without least impulse or shadow of Fate, Or aught by me immutablie foreseen, They trespass, Authors to themselves in all Both what they judge and what they choose; for so I formd them free, and free they must remain, Till they enthrall themselves: I else must change Thir nature, and revoke the high Decree Unchangeable, Eternal, which ordain'd Thir freedom, they themselves ordain'd thir fall. The first sort by thir 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 Heav'n and Earth, so shall my glorie 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 Sense of new joy ineffable diffus'd: Beyond compare the Son of God was seen Most glorious, in him all his Father shon Substantially express'd, and in his face Divine compassion visibly appeerd, 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 sentence, that Man should find grace; For which both Heav'n and Earth shall high extoll Thy praises, with th' innumerable sound Of Hymns and sacred Songs, wherewith thy Throne Encompass'd shall resound thee ever blest. For should Man finally be lost, should Man Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest Son Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though joynd With his own folly? that be from thee farr, That farr be from thee, Father, who art Judg Of all things made, and judgest onely right. Or shall the Adversarie thus obtain His end, and frustrate thine, shall he fulfill His malice, and thy goodness bring to naught, Or proud return though to his heavier doom, Yet with revenge accomplish't and to Hell Draw after him the whole Race of mankind, By him corrupted? or wilt thou thy self Abolish thy Creation, and unmake, For him, what for thy glorie thou hast made? So should thy goodness and thy greatness both Be questiond and blaspheam'd without defence. To whom the great Creatour 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, All hast thou spok'n 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 voutsaft; 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 fall'n condition is, and to me ow 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 warnd Thir sinful state, and to appease betimes Th' incensed Deitie, while offerd grace Invites; for I will cleer thir senses dark, What may sufflce, and soft'n stonie hearts To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. To Prayer, repentance, and obedience due, Though but endevord 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 hard'nd, 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 don; Man disobeying, Disloyal breaks his fealtie, and sinns Against the high Supremacie of Heav'n, Affecting God-head, and so loosing all, To expiate his Treason hath naught left, But to destruction sacred and devote, He with his whole posteritie must dye, Dye hee or Justice must; unless for him Som other able, and as willing, pay The rigid satisfaction, death for death. Say Heav'nly powers, where shall we find such love, Which of ye will be mortal to redeem Mans mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save, Dwels in all Heaven charitie so deare? He ask'd, but all the Heav'nly Quire stood mute, And silence was in Heav'n: on mans behalf Patron or Intercessor none appeerd, Much less that durst upon his own head draw The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. And now without redemption all mankind Must have bin lost, adjudg'd to Death and Hell By doom severe, had not the Son of God, In whom the fulness dwels of love divine, His dearest mediation thus renewd. 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, Happie for man, so coming; he her aide Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost; Attonement for himself or offering meet, Indebted and undon, hath none to bring: Behold mee then, mee for him, life for life I offer, on mee let thine anger fall; Account mee man; I for his sake will leave Thy bosom, and this glorie next to thee Freely put off, and for him lastly dye Well pleas'd, on me let Death wreck all his rage; Under his gloomie power I shall not long Lie vanquisht; thou hast givn me to possess Life in my self 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 loathsom grave His prey, nor suffer my unspotted Soule For ever with corruption there to dwell; But I shall rise Victorious, and subdue My vanquisher, spoild of his vanted spoile; Death his deaths wound shall then receive, and stoop Inglorious, of his mortall sting disarm'd. 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 Pleas'd, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile, While by thee rais'd I ruin all my Foes, Death last, and with his Carcass glut the Grave: Then with the multitude of my redeemd Shall enter Heaven long absent, and returne, Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud Of anger shall remain, but peace assur'd, And reconcilement; wrauth shall be no more Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire. His words here ended, but his meek aspect Silent yet spake, and breath'd immortal love To mortal men, above which only shon Filial obedience: as a sacrifice Glad to be offer'd, he attends the will Of his great Father.   Admiration seis'd All Heav'n, what this might mean, and whither tend Wondring; but soon th' Almighty thus reply'd: O thou in Heav'n and Earth the only peace Found out for mankind under wrauth, 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 loosing thee a while, the whole Race lost. Thou therefore whom thou only canst redeem, Thir Nature also to thy Nature joyn; And be thy self Man among men on Earth, Made flesh, when time shall be, of Virgin seed, By wondrous birth: Be thou in Adams room The Head of all mankind, though Adams Son. As in him perish all men, so in thee As from a second root shall be restor'd, As many as are restor'd, without thee none. His crime makes guiltie all his Sons, thy merit Imputed shall absolve them who renounce Thir own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, And live in thee transplanted, and from thee Receive new life.   So Man, as is most just, Shall satisfie for Man, be judg'd and die, And dying rise, and rising with him raise His Brethren, ransomd with his own dear life. So Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate Giving to death, and dying to redeeme, So dearly to redeem what Hellish hate So easily destroy'd, and still destroyes In those who, when they may, accept not grace. Nor shalt thou by descending to assume Mans Nature, less'n or degrade thine owne. Because thou hast, though Thron'd 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 then Birthright Son of God, Found worthiest to be so by being Good, Farr more then Great or High; because in thee Love hath abounded more then 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 Supream 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 Heav'n Shalt in the Sky appeer, and from thee send The summoning Arch-Angels to proclaime Thy dread Tribunal: forthwith from all Windes The living, and forthwith the cited dead Of all past Ages to the general Doom Shall hast'n, such a peal shall rouse thir sleep. Then all thy Saints assembl'd, thou shalt judge Bad men and Angels, they arraignd 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 thir tribulations long See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, With Joy and Love 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 mee. No sooner had th' Almighty ceas't, but all The multitude of Angels with a shout Loud as from numbers without number, sweet As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heav'n rung With Jubilee, and loud Hosanna's filld Th' eternal Regions: lowly reverent Towards either Throne they bow, and to the ground With solemn adoration down they cast Thir Crowns inwove with Amarant and Gold, Immortal Amarant, a Flour which once In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life Began to bloom, but soon for mans offence To Heav'n remov'd where first it grew, there grows, And flours aloft shading the Fount of Life, And where the river of Bliss through midst of Heavn Rowls o're Elisian Flours her Amber stream; With these that never fade the Spirits elect Bind thir resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams, Now in loose Garlands thick thrown off, the bright Pavement that like a Sea of Jasper shon Impurpl'd with Celestial Roses smil'd. Then Crown'd again thir gold'n Harps they took, Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by thir side Like Quivers hung, and with Praeamble sweet Of charming symphonie they introduce Thir sacred Song, and waken raptures high; No voice exempt, no voice but well could joine Melodious part, such concord is in Heav'n. Thee Father first they sung Omnipotent, Immutable, Immortal, Infinite, Eternal King; thee Author of all being, Fountain of Light, thy self invisible Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sit'st Thron'd inaccessible, but when 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 appeer, Yet dazle Heav'n, that brightest Seraphim Approach not, but with both wings veil thir eyes. Thee next they sang of all Creation first, Begotten Son, Divine Similitude, In whose conspicuous count'nance, without cloud Made visible, th' Almighty Father shines, Whom else no Creature can behold; on thee Impresst the effulgence of his Glorie abides, Transfus'd on thee his ample Spirit rests. Hee Heav'n of Heavens and all the Powers therein By thee created, and by thee threw down Th' aspiring Dominations: thou that day Thy Fathers dreadful Thunder didst not spare, Nor stop thy flaming Chariot wheels, that shook Heav'ns everlasting Frame, while o're the necks Thou drov'st of warring Angels disarraid. Back from pursuit thy Powers with loud acclaime Thee only extoll'd, Son of thy Fathers might, To execute fierce vengeance on his foes, Not so on Man; him through their malice fall'n, Father of Mercie and Grace, thou didst not doome So strictly, but much more to pitie encline: No sooner did thy dear and onely Son Perceive thee purpos'd not to doom frail Man So strictly, but much more to pitie enclin'd, He to appease thy wrauth, and end the strife Of Mercy and justice in thy face discern'd, Regardless of the Bliss wherein hee sat Second to thee, offerd himself to die For mans offence.   O unexampl'd love, Love no where to be found less then 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 Fathers praise disjoine. Thus they in Heav'n, above the starry Sphear, Thir happie hours in joy and hymning spent. Mean while upon the firm opacous Globe Of this round World, whose first convex divides The luminous inferior Orbs, enclos'd From Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old, Satan alighted walks: a Globe farr off It seem'd, now seems a boundless Continent Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night Starless expos'd, and ever-threatning storms Of Chaos blustring round, inclement skie; Save on that side which from the wall of Heav'n Though distant farr som small reflection gaines Of glimmering air less vext with tempest loud: Here walk'd the Fiend at large in spacious field. As when a Vultur on Imaus bred, Whose snowie 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 Plaines Of Sericana, where Chineses drive With Sails and Wind thir canie Waggons light: So on this windie Sea of Land, the Fiend Walk'd up and down alone bent on his prey, Alone, for other Creature in this place Living or liveless to be found was none, None yet, but store hereafter from the earth Up hither like Aereal vapours flew Of all things transitorie and vain, when Sin With vanity had filld the works of men: Both all things vain, and all who in vain things Built thir fond hopes of Glorie or lasting fame, Or happiness in this or th' other life; All who have thir reward on Earth, the fruits Of painful Superstition and blind Zeal, Naught seeking but the praise of men, here find Fit retribution, emptie as thir deeds; All th, unaccomplisht works of Natures hand, Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixt, Dissolvd on Earth, fleet hither, and in vain, Till final dissolution, wander here, Not in the neighbouring Moon, as some have dreamd; Those argent Fields more likely habitants, Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold Betwixt th' Angelical and Human kinde: Hither of ill-joynd Sons and Daughters born First from the ancient World those Giants came With many a vain exploit, though then renownd: The builders next of Babel on the Plain Of Sennaar, and still with vain designe New Babels, had they wherewithall, would build: Others came single; he who to be deemd A God, leap'd fondly into Aetna flames, Empedocles, and hee who to enjoy Plato's Elysium, leap'd into the Sea, Cleombrotus, and many more too long, Embryo's and Idiots, Eremits and Friers White, Black and Grey, with all thir trumperie. Here Pilgrims roam, that stray'd so farr to seek In Golgotha him dead, who lives in Heav'n; And they who to be sure of Paradise Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, Or in Franciscan think to pass disguis'd; They pass the Planets seven, and pass the fixt, And that Crystalline Sphear whose ballance weighs The Trepidation talkt, and that first mov'd; And now Saint Peter at Heav'ns Wicket seems To wait them with his Keys, and now at foot Of Heav'ns ascent they lift thir Feet, when loe A violent cross wind from either Coast Blows them transverse ten thousand Leagues awry Into the devious Air; then might ye see Cowles, Hoods and Habits with thir wearers tost And flutterd into Raggs, then Reliques, Beads, Indulgences, Dispenses, Pardons, Bulls, The sport of Winds: all these upwhirld aloft Fly o're the backside of the World farr off Into a Limbo large and broad, since calld The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown Long after, now unpeopl'd, and untrod; All this dark Globe the Fiend found as he pass'd, And long he wanderd, till at last a gleame Of dawning light turnd thither-ward in haste His travell'd steps; farr distant he descries Ascending by degrees magnificent Up to the wall of Heaven a Structure high, At top whereof, but farr more rich appeerd The work as of a Kingly Palace Gate With Frontispice of Diamond and Gold Imbellisht, thick with sparkling orient Gemmes The Portal shon, inimitable on Earth By Model, or by shading Pencil drawn. The Stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw Angels ascending and descending, bands Of Guardians bright, when he from Esau fled To Padan-Aram in the field of Luz, Dreaming by night under the open Skie, And waking cri'd,This is the Gate of Heav'n. Each Stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood There alwayes, but drawn up to Heav'n somtimes Viewless, and underneath a bright Sea flow'd Of Jasper, or of liquid Pearle, whereon Who after came from Earth, sayling arriv'd, Wafted by Angels, or flew o're the Lake Rapt in a Chariot drawn by fiery Steeds. The Stairs were then let down, whether to dare The Fiend by easie ascent, or aggravate His sad exclusion from the dores of Bliss. Direct against which op'nd from beneath, Just o're the blissful seat of Paradise, A passage down to th' Earth, a passage wide, Wider by farr then that of after-times Over Mount Sion, and, though that were large, Over the Promis'd 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 Jordans flood To Beersaba, where the Holy Land Borders on Aegypt and the Arabian shoare; So wide the op'ning seemd, where bounds were set To darkness, such as bound the Ocean wave. Satan from hence now on the lower stair That scal'd by steps of Gold to Heav'n Gate Looks down with wonder at the sudden view Of all this World at once.   As when a Scout Through dark and desart wayes with peril gone All night; at last by break of chearful dawne Obtains the brow of some high-climbing Hill, Which to his eye discovers unaware The goodly prospect of some forein land First-seen, or some renown'd Metropolis With glistering Spires and Pinnacles adornd, Which now the Rising Sun guilds with his beams. Such wonder seis'd, though after Heaven seen, The Spirit maligne, but much more envy seis'd At sight of all this World beheld so faire. Round he surveys, and well might, where he stood So high above the circling Canopie Of Nights extended shade; from Eastern Point Of Libra to the fleecie Starr that bears Andromeda farr off Atlantic Seas Beyond th'Horizon; then from Pole to Pole He views in bredth, and without longer pause Down right into the Worlds first Region throws His flight precipitant, and windes with ease Through the pure marble Air his oblique way Amongst innumerable Starrs, that shon Stars distant, but nigh hand seemd other Worlds, Or other Worlds they seemd, or happy Iles, Like those Hesperian Gardens fam'd of old, Fortunate Fields, and Groves and flourie Vales, Thrice happy Iles, but who dwelt happy there He stayd not to enquire: above them all The golden Sun in splendor likest Heaven Allur'd his eye: Thither his course he bends Through the calm Firmament; but up or downe By center, or eccentric, hard to tell, Or Longitude, where the great Luminarie Alooff the vulgar Constellations thick, That from his Lordly eye keep distance due, Dispenses Light from farr; they as they move Thir Starry dance in numbers that compute Days, months, & years, towards his all-chearing Lamp Turn swift thir various motions, or are turnd By his Magnetic beam, that gently warms The Univers, and to each inward part With gentle penetration, though unseen, Shoots invisible vertue even 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 Orbe Through his glaz'd Optic Tube yet never saw. The place he found beyond expression bright, Compar'd with aught on Earth, Medal or Stone; Not all parts like, but all alike informd With radiant light, as glowing Iron with fire; If mettal, part seemd Gold, part Silver cleer; If stone, Carbuncle most or Chrysolite, Rubie or Topaz, to the Twelve that shon In Aarons Brest-plate, and a stone besides Imagind rather oft then elsewhere seen, That stone, or like to that which here below Philosophers in vain so long have sought, In vain, though by thir powerful Art they binde Volatil Hermes, and call up unbound In various shapes old Proteus from the Sea, Draind through a Limbec to his Native forme. What wonder then if fields and regions here Breathe forth Elixir pure, and Rivers run Potable Gold, when with one vertuous touch Th' Arch-chimic Sun so farr from us remote Produces with Terrestrial Humor mixt Here in the dark so many precious things Of colour glorious and effect so rare? Here matter new to gaze the Devil met Undazl'd, farr 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 th'Aequator, as they now Shot upward still direct, whence no way round Shadow from body opaque can fall, and the Aire, No where so cleer, sharp'nd his visual ray To objects distant farr, whereby he soon Saw within kenn a glorious Angel stand, The same whom John saw also in the Sun: His back was turnd, but not his brightness hid; Of beaming sunnie Raies, a golden tiar Circl'd his Head, nor less his Locks behind Illustrious on his Shoulders fledge with wings Lay waving round; on som great charge imploy'd He seemd, or fixt in cogitation deep. Glad was the Spirit impure as now in hope To find who might direct his wandring flight To Paradise the happie seat of Man, His journies 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 Cherube he appeers, Not of the prime, yet such as in his face Youth smil'd Celestial, and to every Limb Sutable grace diffus'd, so well he feignd; Under a Coronet his flowing haire In curles on either cheek plaid, wings he wore Of many a colourd plume sprinkl'd 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 turnd, Admonisht by his ear, and strait was known Th' Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the seav'n Who in Gods presence, neerest to his Throne Stand ready at command, and are his Eyes That run through all the Heav'ns, or down to th' Earth Bear his swift errands over moist and dry, O're Sea and Land: him Satan thus accostes; Uriel, for thou of those seav'n Spirits that stand In sight of God's high Throne, gloriously bright, The first art wont his great authentic will Interpreter through highest Heav'n to bring, Where all his Sons thy Embassie attend; And here art likeliest by supream decree Like honour to obtain, and as his Eye To visit oft this new Creation round; Unspeakable desire to see, and know All these his wondrous works, but chiefly Man, His chief delight and favour, him for whom All these his works so wondrous he ordaind, Hath brought me from the Quires of Cherubim Alone thus wandring.   Brightest Seraph tell In which of all these shining Orbes hath Man His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none, But all these shining Orbes his choice to dwell; That I may find him, and with secret gaze, Or open admiration him behold On whom the great Creator hath bestowd Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces powrd; That both in him and all things, as is meet, The Universal Maker we may praise; Who justly hath drivn out his Rebell Foes To deepest Hell, and to repair that loss Created this new happie Race of Men To serve him better: wise are all his wayes. So spake the false dissembler unperceivd; For neither Man nor Angel can discern Hypocrisie, the onely evil that walks Invisible, except to God alone, By his permissive will, through Heav'n and Earth: And oft though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps At wisdoms Gate, and to simplicitie Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill Where no ill seems: Which now for once beguil'd Uriel, though Regent of the Sun, and held The sharpest sighted Spirit of all in Heav'n; Who to the fraudulent Impostor foule In his uprightness answer thus returnd. Fair Angel, thy desire which tends to know The works of God, thereby to glorifie The great Work-Maister, 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 onely in heav'n: For wonderful indeed are all his works, Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all Had in remembrance alwayes with delight; But what created mind can comprehend Thir number, or the wisdom infinite That brought them forth, but hid thir causes deep. I saw when at his Word the formless Mass, This worlds material mould, came to a heap: Confusion heard his voice, and wilde uproar Stood rul'd, stood vast infinitude confin'd; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shon, and order from disorder sprung: Swift to thir several Quarters hasted then The cumbrous Elements, Earth, Flood, Aire, Fire, And this Ethereal quintessence of Heav'n Flew upward, spirited with various forms, That rowld orbicular, and turnd to Starrs Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move; Each had his place appointed, each his course, The rest in circuit walles 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 Night would invade, but there the neighbouring Moon (So call that opposite fair Starr) her aide Timely interposes, and her monthly round Still ending, still renewing, through mid Heav'n; With borrowd light her countenance triform Hence fills and empties to enlighten th' Earth, And in her pale dominion checks the night. That spot to which I point is Paradise, Adams abode, those loftie shades his Bowre. Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires. Thus said, he turnd, and Satan bowing low, As to superior Spirits is wont in Heaven, Where honour due and reverence none neglects, Took leave, and toward the coast of Earth beneath, Down from th' Ecliptic, sped with hop'd success, Throws his steep flight in many an Aerie wheele, Nor staid, till on Niphates top he lights.

NOw Morn her rosie steps in th' Eastern Clime Advancing, sow'd the earth with Orient Pearle, When Adam wak't, so customd, for his sleep Was Aerie light from pure digestion bred, And temperat vapors bland, which th' only sound Of leaves and fuming rills,Aurora's fan, Lightly dispers'd, and the shrill Matin Song Of Birds on every bough; so much the more His wonder was to find unwak'nd Eve With Tresses discompos'd, and glowing Cheek, As through unquiet rest: he on his side Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial Love Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beautie, which whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar Graces; then with voice Milde, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching, whisperd thus.   Awake My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found, Heav'ns last best gift, my ever new delight, Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us, we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove, What drops the Myrrhe, and what the balmie Reed, How Nature paints her colours, how the Bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet. Such whispering wak'd her, but with startl'd eye On Adam, whom imbracing, thus she spake. O Sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, My Glorie, my Perfection, glad I see Thy face, and Morn return'd, for I this Night, Such night till this I never pass'd, have dream'd, If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee, Works of day pass't, or morrows next designe, But of offence and trouble, which my mind Knew never till this irksom night;   methought Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk With gentle voice, I though it thine; it said, Why sleepst thou Eve?   now is the pleasant time, The cool, the silent, save where silence yields To the night-warbling Bird, that now awake Tunes sweetest his love-labor'd song; now reignes Full Orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing light Shadowie sets off the face of things; in vain, If none regard; Heav'n wakes with all his eyes, Whom to behold but thee, Natures desire, In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze. I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; To find thee I directed then my walk; And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways That brought me on a sudden to the Tree Of interdicted Knowledge: fair it seem'd, Much fairer to my Fancie then by day: And as I wondring lookt, beside it stood One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Heav'n By us oft seen; his dewie locks distill'd Ambrosia; on that Tree he also gaz'd; And O fair Plant, said he, with fruit surcharg'd, Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet, Nor God, nor Man; is Knowledge so despis'd? Or envie, or what reserve forbids to taste? Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold Longer thy offerd good, why else set here? This said he paus'd not, but with ventrous Arme He pluckt, he tasted; mee damp horror chil'd At such bold words voucht with a deed so bold: But he thus overjoy'd, O Fruit Divine, Sweet of thy self, but much more sweet thus cropt, Forbidd'n here, it seems, as onely fit For God's, yet able to make Gods of Men: And why not Gods of Men, since good, the more Communicated, more abundant growes, The Author not impair'd, but honourd more? Here, happie Creature, fair Angelic Eve, Partake thou also; happie though thou art, Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst not be: Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods Thy self a Goddess, not to Earth confind, But somtimes in the Air, as wee, somtimes Ascend to Heav'n, by merit thine, and see What life the Gods live there, and such live thou. So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part Which he had pluckt; the pleasant savourie smell So quick'nd appetite, that I, methought, Could not but taste.   Forthwith up to the Clouds With him I flew, and underneath beheld The Earth outstretcht immense, a prospect wide And various: wondring at my flight and change To this high exaltation; suddenly My Guide was gon, and I, me thought, sunk down, And fell asleep; but O how glad I wak'd To find this but a dream!   Thus Eve her Night Related, and thus Adam answerd sad. Best image of my self and dearer half, The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep Affects me equally; nor can I like This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear; Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none, Created pure.   But know that in the Soule Are many lesser Faculties that serve Reason as chief; among these Fansie next Her office holds; of all external things, Which the five watchful Senses represent, She forms Imaginations, Aerie shapes, Which Reason joyning or disjoyning, 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 Fansie wakes To imitate her; but misjoyning shapes, Wilde work produces oft, and most in dreams, Ill matching words and deeds long past or late. Som such resemblances methinks I find Of our last Eevnings talk, in this thy dream, But with addition strange; yet be not sad. Evil into the mind of God or Man May come or go, so unapprov'd, and leave No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope That what in sleep thou didst abhorr to dream, Waking thou never wilt consent to do. Be not disheart'nd then, nor cloud those looks That wont to be more chearful and serene Then when fair Morning first smiles on the World, And let us to our fresh imployments rise Among the Groves, the Fountains, and the Flours That open now thir choicest bosom'd smells Reservd from night, and kept for thee in store. So cheard he his fair Spouse, and she was cheard, But silently a gentle tear let fall From either eye, and wip'd them with her haire; Two other precious drops that ready stood, Each in thir Chrystal sluce, hee ere they fell Kiss'd as the gracious signs of sweet remorse And pious awe, that feard to have offended. So all was cleard, and to the Field they haste. But first from under shadie arborous roof, Soon as they forth were come to open sight Of day-spring, and the Sun, who scarce up risen With wheels yet hov'ring o're the Ocean brim, Shot paralel to the earth his dewie ray, Discovering in wide Lantskip all the East Of Paradise and Edens happie Plains, Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began Thir Orisons, each Morning duly paid In various style, for neither various style Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise Thir Maker, in fit strains pronounc't or sung Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence Flowd from thir lips, in Prose or numerous Verse, More tuneable then needed Lute or Harp To add more sweetness, and they thus began. These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almightie, thine this universal Frame, Thus wondrous fair; thy self how wondrous then! Unspeakable, who first above these Heavens To us invisible or dimly seen In these thy lowest works, yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and Power Divine: Speak yee who best can tell, ye Sons of light, Angels, for yee behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, Day without Night, Circle his Throne rejoycing, yee in Heav'n, On Earth joyn all ye Creatures to extoll Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. Fairest of Starrs, last in the train of Night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crownst the smiling Morn With thy bright Circlet, praise him in thy Spheare While day arises, that sweet hour of Prime. Thou Sun, of this great World both Eye and Soule, Acknowledge him thy Greater, sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high Noon hast gaind, and when thou fallst. Moon, that now meetst the orient Sun, now fli'st With the fixt Starrs, fixt in thir Orb that flies, And yee five other wandring Fires that move In mystic Dance not without Song, resound His praise, who out of Darkness call'd up Light, Aire, and ye Elements the eldest birth Of Natures Womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual Circle, multiform; and mix And nourish all things, let your ceasless change Varie to our great Maker still new praise. Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise From Hill or steaming Lake, duskie or grey, Till the Sun paint your fleecie skirts with Gold, In honour to the Worlds great Author rise; Whether to deck with Clouds the uncolourd skie, Or wet the thirstie Earth with falling showers, Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise ye Winds, that from four Quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines, With every Plant, in sign of Worship wave. Fountains and yee, that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Joyn voices all ye living Souls, ye Birds, That singing up to Heaven gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise; Yee that in Waters glide, and yee that walk The Earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep; Witness if I be silent, Morn or Eeven, To Hill, or Valley, Fountain, or fresh shade Made vocal by my Song, and taught his praise. Hail universal Lord, be bounteous still To give us onely good; and if the night Have gathered aught of evil or conceald, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. So pray'd they innocent, and to thir thoughts Firm peace recoverd soon and wonted calm. On to thir mornings rural work they haste Among sweet dewes and flours; where any row Of Fruit-trees overwoodie reachd too farr Thir pamperd boughes, and needed hands to check Fruitless imbraces: or they led the Vine To wed her Elm; she spous'd about him twines Her mariageable arms, and with her brings Her dowr th' adopted Clusters, to adorn His barren leaves.   Them thus imploid beheld With pittie Heav'ns high King, and to him call'd Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deign'd To travel with Tobias, and secur'd His marriage with the seaventimes-wedded Maid. Raphael, said hee, thou hear'st what stir on Earth Satan from Hell scap't through the darksom Gulf Hath raisd in Paradise, and how disturbd This night the human pair, how he designes In them at once to ruin all mankind. Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend Converse with Adam, in what Bowre or shade Thou find'st him from the heat of Noon retir'd, To respit his day-labour with repast, Or with repose; and such discourse bring on, As may advise him of his happie state, Happiness in his power left free to will, Left to his own free Will, his Will though free, Yet mutable; whence warne him to beware He swerve not too secure: tell him withall His danger, and from whom, what enemie Late falln himself from Heav'n, is plotting now 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, Least wilfully transgressing he pretend Surprisal, unadmonisht, unforewarnd. So spake th' Eternal Father, and fulfilld All Justice: nor delaid the winged Saint After his charge receivd, but from among Thousand Celestial Ardors, where he stood Vaild with his gorgeous wings, up springing light Flew through the midst of Heav'n; th' angelic Quires On each hand parting, to his speed gave way Through all th' Empyreal road; till at the Gate Of Heav'n arriv'd, the gate self-opend wide On golden Hinges turning, as by work Divine the sov'ran Architect had fram'd. From hence, no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, Starr interpos'd, however small he sees, Not unconform to the other shining Globes, Earth and the Gard'n of God, with Cedars crownd Above all Hills.   As when by night the Glass Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes Imagind Lands and Regions in the Moon: Or Pilot from amidst the Cyclades Delos or Samos first appeering kenns A cloudy spot.   Down thither prone in flight He speeds, and through the vast Ethereal Skie Sailes between worlds and worlds, with steddie wing Now on the polar windes, then with quick Fann Winnows the buxom Air;   till within soare Of Towring Eagles, to all the Fowles he seems A Phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole Birad When to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's Bright Temple, to Aegyptian Theb's he flies. At once on th' Eastern cliff of Paradise He lights, and to his proper shape returns A Seraph wingd; six wings he wore, to shade His lineaments Divine; the pair that clad Each shoulder broad, came mantling o're his brest With regal Ornament; the middle pair Girt like a Starrie Zone his waste, and round Skirted his loines and thighes with downie Gold And colours dipt in Heav'n; the third his feet Shaddowd from either heele with featherd maile Skie-tinctur'd grain.   Like Maia's son he stood, And shook his Plumes, that Heav'nly fragrance filld The circuit wide.   Strait knew him all the Bands Of Angels under watch; and to his state, And to his message high in honour rise; For on som message high they guessd him bound. The glittering Tents he passd, and now is come Into the blissful field, through Groves of Myrrhe, And flouring Odours, Cassia, Nard, and Balme; A Wilderness of sweets; for Nature here Wantond as in her prime, and plaid at will Her Virgin Fancies, pouring forth more sweet, Wilde above Rule or Art; enormous bliss. Him through the spicie Forrest onward com Adam discernd, as in the dore he sat Of his coole Bowre, while now the mounted Sun Shot down direct his fervid Raies to warme Earths inmost womb, more warmth then Adam needs; And Eve within, due at her hour prepar'd For dinner savourie fruits, of taste to please True appetite, and not disrelish thirst Of nectarous draughts between, from milkie stream, Berrie or Grape: to whom thus Adam call'd. Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight behold Eastward among those Trees, what glorious shape Comes this way moving; seems another Morn Ris'n on mid-noon;   some great behest from Heav'n To us perhaps he brings, and will voutsafe This day to be our Guest.   But goe with speed, And what thy stores contain, bring forth and poure Abundance, fit to honour and receive Our Heav'nly stranger; well we may afford Our givers thir own gifts, and large bestow From large bestowd, where Nature multiplies Her fertil growth, and by disburd'ning grows More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare. To whom thus Eve.Adam, earths hallowd mould Of God inspir'd, small store will serve, where store, All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk; Save what by frugal storing firmness gains To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes: But I will haste and from each bough and break, Each Plant and juciest Gourd will pluck such choice To entertain our Angel guest, as hee Beholding shall confess that here on Earth God hath dispenst his bounties as in Heav'n. So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent What choice to chuse for delicacie best, What order, so contriv'd as not to mix Tastes, not well joynd, inelegant, but bring Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change, Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk Whatever Earth all-bearing Mother yields In India East or West, or middle shoare In Pontus or the Punic Coast, or where Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kindes, in coate, Rough, or smooth rin'd, or bearded husk, or shell She gathers, Tribute large, and on the board Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the Grape She crushes, inoffensive moust, and meathes From many a berrie, and from sweet kernels prest She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold Wants her fit vessels pure, then strews the ground With Rose and Odours from the shrub unfum'd. Mean while our Primitive great Sire, to meet His god-like Guest, walks forth, without more train Accompani'd then with his own compleat Perfections, in himself was all his state, More solemn then the tedious pomp that waits On Princes, when thir rich Retinue long Of Horses led, and Grooms besmeard with Gold Dazles the croud, and sets them all agape. Neerer his presence Adam though not awd, Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, As to a superior Nature, bowing low, Thus said.   Native of Heav'n, for other place None can then Heav'n such glorious shape contain; Since by descending from the Thrones above, Those happie places thou hast deignd a while To want, and honour these, voutsafe with us Two onely, who yet by sov'ran gift possess This spacious ground, in yonder shadie Bowre To rest, and what the Garden choicest bears To sit and taste, till this meridian heat Be over, and the Sun more coole decline. Whom thus the Angelic Vertue answerd milde. 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 Bowre Oreshades; for these mid-hours, till Eevning rise I have at will. So to the Silvan Lodge They came, that like Pomona's Arbour smil'd With flourets deck't and fragrant smells; but Eve Undeckt, save with her self more lovely fair Then 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 vaile Shee needed, Vertue-proof, no thought infirme Alterd her cheek.   On whom the Angel Haile Bestowd, the holy salutation us'd Long after to blest Marie, second Eve. Haile Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful Womb Shall fill the World more numerous with thy Sons Then with these various fruits the Trees of God Have heap'd this Table. Rais'd of grassie terf Thir Table was, and mossie seats had round, And on her ample Square from side to side All Autumn pil'd, though Spring and Autumn here Danc'd hand in hand.   A while discourse they hold; No fear lest Dinner coole; when thus began Our Authour.   Heav'nly stranger, please to taste These bounties which our Nourisher, from whom All perfet good unmeasur'd out, descends, To us for food and for delight hath caus'd The Earth to yield; unsavourie food perhaps To spiritual Natures; only this I know, That one Celestial Father gives to all. To whom the Angel.   Therefore what he gives (Whose praise be ever sung) to man in part Spiritual, may of purest Spirits be found No ingrateful food; and food alike those pure Intelligential substances require As doth your Rational; and both contain Within them every lower facultie 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 sustaind and fed; of Elements The grosser feeds the purer, Earth the Sea, Earth and the Sea feed Air, the Air those Fires Ethereal, and as lowest first the Moon; Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurg'd Vapours not yet into her substance turnd. Nor doth the Moon no nourishment exhale From her moist Continent to higher Orbes. The Sun that light imparts to all, receives From all his alimental recompence In humid exhalations, and at Even Sups with the Ocean: though in Heav'n the Trees Of life ambrosial frutage bear, and vines Yield Nectar, though from off the boughs each Morn We brush mellifluous Dewes, and find the ground Cover'd with pearly grain: yet God hath here Varied his bounty so with new delights, As may compare with Heaven; and to taste Think not I shall be nice.   So down they sat, And to thir viands fell, nor seemingly The Angel, nor in mist, the common gloss Of Theologians, but with keen dispatch Of real hunger, and concoctive heate. To transubstantiate; what redounds, transpires Through Spirits with ease; nor wonder; if by fire Of sooty coal the Empiric Alchimist Can turn, or holds it possible to turn Metals of drossiest Ore to perfet Gold As from the Mine.   Mean while at Table Eve Ministerd naked, and thir flowing cups With pleasant liquors crown'd:   O innocence Deserving Paradise! if ever, then, Then had the Sons of God excuse to have bin Enamour'd at that sight; but in those hearts Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousie Was understood, the injur'd Lovers Hell. Thus when with meats and drinks they had suffic'd, Not burd'nd Nature, sudden mind arose In Adam, not to let th' occasion pass Given him by this great Conference to know Of things above his World, and of thir being Who dwell in Heav'n, whose excellence he saw Transcend his own so farr, whose radiant forms Divine effulgence, whose high Power so far Exceeded human, and his wary speech Thus to th' Empyreal Minister he fram'd. Inhabitant with God, now know I well Thy favour, in this honour done to man, Under whose lowly roof thou hast voutsaf't To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, Food not of Angels, yet accepted so, As that more willingly thou couldst not seem As Heav'ns high feasts to have fed: yet what compare? To whom the winged Hierarch repli'd. O Adam, one Almightie is, from whom All things proceed, and up to him return, If not deprav'd from good, created all Such to perfection, one first matter all, Indu'd with various forms various degrees Of substance, and in things that live, of life; But more refin'd, more spiritous, and pure, As neerer to him plac't or neerer tending Each in thir several active Sphears assignd, Till body up to spirit work, in bounds Proportiond to each kind.   So from the root Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves More aerie, last the bright consummate floure Spirits odorous breathes: flours and thir fruit Mans nourishment, by gradual scale sublim'd To vital Spirits aspire, to animal, To intellectual, give both life and sense, Fansie and understanding, whence the Soule Reason receives, and reason is her being, Discursive, or Intuitive; discourse Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours, Differing but in degree, of kind the same. Wonder not then, what God for you saw good If I refuse not, but convert, as you, To proper substance; time may come when men With Angels may participate, and find No inconvenient Diet, nor too light Fare: And from these corporal nutriments perhaps Your bodies may at last turn all to Spirit, Improv'd by tract of time, and wingd ascend Ethereal, as wee, or may at choice Here or in Heav'nly Paradises dwell; If ye be found obedient, and retain Unalterably firm his love entire Whose progenie you are.   Mean while enjoy Your fill what happiness this happie state Can comprehend, incapable of more. To whom the Patriarch of mankind repli'd, O favourable spirit, propitious guest, Well hast thou taught the way that might direct Our knowledge, and the scale of Nature set From center to circumference, whereon In contemplation of created things By steps we may ascend to God.   But say, What meant that caution joind,if ye be found Obedient

DEscend from Heav'n Urania, by that name If rightly thou art call'd, whose Voice divine Following, above th'Olympian Hill I soare, Above the flight of Pegasean wing. The meaning, not the Name I call: for thou Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top Of old Olympus dwell'st, but Heav'nlie borne, Before the Hills appeerd, or Fountain flow'd, Thou with Eternal wisdom didst converse, Wisdom thy Sister, and with her didst play In presence of th' Almightie Father, pleas'd With thy Celestial Song.   Up led by thee Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns I have presum'd, An Earthlie Guest, and drawn Empyreal Aire, Thy tempring; with like safetie guided down Return me to my Native Element: Least from this flying Steed unrein'd, (as once Bellerophon, though from a lower Clime) Dismounted, on th'Aleian Field I fall Erroneous there to wander and forlorne. Half yet remaines unsung, but narrower bound Within the visible Diurnal Spheare; Standing on Earth, not rapt above the Pole, More safe I Sing with mortal voice, unchang'd To hoarce or mute, though fall'n on evil dayes, On evil dayes though fall'n, and evil tongues; In darkness, and with dangers compast round, And solitude; yet not alone, while thou Visit'st my slumbers Nightly, or when Morn Purples the East: still govern thou my Song, Urania, and fit audience find, though few. But drive farr off the barbarous dissonance Of Bacchus and his revellers, the Race Of that wilde Rout that tore the Thracian Bard In Rhodope, where Woods and Rocks had Eares To rapture, till the savage clamor dround Both Harp and Voice; nor could the Muse defend Her Son.   So fail not thou, who thee implores: For thou are Heav'nlie, shee an emptie dreame. Say Goddess, what ensu'd when Raphael, The affable Arch-Angel, had forewarn'd Adam by dire example to beware Apostasie, by what befell in Heaven To those Apostates, least the like befall In Paradise to Adam or his Race, Charg'd not to touch the interdicted Tree, If they transgress, and slight that sole command, So easily obeyd amid the choice Of all tastes else to please thir appetite, Though wandring.   He with his consorted Eve The storie heard attentive, and was fill'd With admiration, and deep Muse to hear Of things so high and strange, things to thir thought So unimaginable as hate in Heav'n, And Warr so neer the Peace of God in bliss With such confusion: but the evil soon Driv'n back redounded as a flood on those From whom it sprung, impossible to mix With Blessedness.   Whence Adam soon repeal'd The doubts that in his heart arose: and now Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know What neerer might concern him, how this World Of Heav'n and Earth conspicious first began, When, and whereof created, for what cause, What within Eden or without was done Before his memorie, as one whose drouth Yet scarce allay'd still eyes the current streame, Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, Proceeded thus to ask his Heav'nly Guest. Great things, and full of wonder in our eares, Farr differing from this World, thou hast reveal'd Divine interpreter, by favour sent Down from the Empyrean to forewarne Us timely of what might else have bin our loss, Unknown, which human knowledg could not reach: For which to the infinitly Good we owe Immortal thanks, and his admonishment Receave with solemne purpose to observe Immutably his sovran will, the end Of what we are.   But since thou hast voutsaf't Gently for our instruction to impart Things above Earthly thought, which yet concernd Our knowing, as to highest wisdom seemd, Deign to descend now lower, and relate What may no less perhaps availe us known, How first began this Heav'n which we behold Distant so high, with moving Fires adornd Innumerable, and this which yeelds or fills All space, the ambient Aire wide interfus'd Imbracing round this florid Earth, what cause Mov'd the Creator in his holy Rest Through all Eternitie so late to build In Chaos, and the work begun, how soon Absolv'd, if unforbid thou maist unfould What wee, not to explore the secrets aske Of his Eternal Empire, but the more To magnifie his works, the more we know. And the great Light of Day yet wants to run Much of his Race though steep, suspens in Heav'n Held by thy voice, thy potent voice he heares, And longer will delay to heare thee tell His Generation, and the rising Birth Of Nature from the unapparent Deep: Or if the Starr of Eevning and the Moon Haste to thy audience, Night with her will bring Silence, and Sleep listning 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 Godlike Angel answerd milde. This also thy request with caution askt Obtaine: though to recount Almightie 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 glorifie the Maker, and inferr Thee also happier, shall not be withheld Thy hearing, such Commission from above I have receav'd, to answer thy desire Of knowledge within bounds; beyond abstain To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope Things not reveal'd, which th' invisible King, Onely Omniscient, hath supprest in Night, To none communicable in Earth or Heaven: Anough is left besides to search and know. But Knowledge is as food, and needs no less Her Temperance over Appetite, to know In measure what the mind may well contain, Oppresses else with Surfet, and soon turns Wisdom to Folly, as Nourishment to Winde. Know then, that after Lucifer from Heav'n (So call him, brighter once amidst the Host Of Angels, then that Starr the Starrs among) Fell with his flaming Legions through the Deep Into his place, and the great Son returnd Victorious with his Saints, th' Omnipotent Eternal Father from his Throne beheld Thir multitude, and to his Son thus spake. At least our envious Foe hath fail'd, who thought All like himself rebellious, by whose aid This inaccessible high strength, the seat Of Deitie supream, us dispossest, He trusted to have seis'd, and into fraud Drew many, whom thir place knows here no more; Yet farr the greater part have kept, I see, Thir station, Heav'n yet populous retaines Number sufficient to possess her Realmes Though wide, and this high Temple to frequent With Ministeries due and solemn Rites: But least his heart exalt him in the harme Already done, to have dispeopl'd Heav'n My damage fondly deem'd, I can repaire That detriment, if such it be to lose Self-lost, and in a moment will create Another World, out of one man a Race Of men innumerable, there to dwell, Not here, till by degrees of merit rais'd They open to themselves at length the way Up hither, under long obedience tri'd, And Earth be chang'd to Heav'n, & Heav'n to Earth, One Kingdom, Joy and Union without end. Mean while inhabit laxe, ye Powers of Heav'n, And thou my Word, begotten Son, by thee This I perform, speak thou, and be it don: My overshadowing Spirit and might with thee I send along, ride forth, and bid the Deep Within appointed bounds be Heav'n and Earth, Boundless the Deep, because I am who fill Infinitude, nor vacuous the space. Though I uncircumscrib'd my self retire, And put not forth my goodness, which is free To act or not, Necessitie and Chance Approach not mee, and what I will is Fate. So spake th' Almightie, and to what he spake His Word, the filial Godhead, gave effect. Immediate are the Acts of God, more swift Then time or motion, but to human ears Cannot without process of speech be told, So told as earthly notion can receave. Great triumph and rejoycing was in Heav'n When such was heard declar'd the Almightie's will; Glorie they sung to the most High, good will To future men, and in thir dwellings peace: Glorie to him whose just avenging ire Had driven out th' ungodly from his sight And th' habitations of the just; to him Glorie and praise, whose wisdom had ordain'd Good out of evil to create, in stead Of Spirits maligne a better Race to bring Into thir vacant room, and thence diffuse His good to Worlds and Ages infinite. So sang the Hierarchies: Mean while the Son On his great Expedition now appeer'd, Girt with Omnipotence, with Radiance crown'd Of Majestie Divine, Sapience and Love Immense, and all his Father in him shon. About his Chariot numberless were pour'd Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones, And Vertues, winged Spirits, and Chariots wing'd, From the Armoury of God, where stand of old Myriads between two brazen Mountains lodg'd Against a solemn day, harnest at hand, Celestial Equipage; and now came forth Spontaneous, for within them Spirit livd, Attendant on thir Lord: Heav'n op'nd wide Her ever during Gates, Harmonious sound On golden Hinges moving, to let forth The King of Glorie in his powerful Word And Spirit coming to create new Worlds. On heav'nly ground they stood, and from the shore They view'd the vast immeasurable Abyss Outrageous as a Sea, dark, wasteful, wilde, Up from the bottom turn'd by furious windes And surging waves, as Mountains to assault Heav'ns highth, and with the Center mix the Pole. Silence, ye troubl'd waves, and thou Deep, peace, Said then th' Omnific Word, your discord end: Nor staid, but on the Wings of Cherubim Uplifted, in Paternal Glorie rode Farr into Chaos, and the World unborn; For Chaos heard his voice: him all his Traine Follow'd in bright procession to behold Creation, and the wonders of his might. Then staid the fervid Wheeles, and in his hand He took the golden Compasses, prepar'd In Gods Eternal store, to circumscribe This Universe, and all created things: One foot he center'd, and the other turn'd Round through the vast profunditie obscure, And said, thus farr extend, thus farr thy bounds, This be thy just Circumference, O World. Thus God the Heav'n created, thus the Earth, Matter unform'd and void: Darkness profound Cover'd th' Abyss: but on the watrie calme His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspred, And vital vertue infus'd, and vital warmth Throughout the fluid Mass, but downward purg'd The black tartareous cold Infernal dregs Adverse to life: then founded, then conglob'd Like things to like, the rest to several place Disparted, and between spun out the Air, And Earth self ballanc't on her Center hung. Let ther be Light, said God, and forthwith Light Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure Sprung from the Deep, and from her Native East To journie through the airie gloom began, Sphear'd in a radiant Cloud, for yet the Sun Was not; shee in a cloudie Tabernacle Sojourn'd the while.   God saw the Light was good; And light from darkness by the Hemisphere Divided: Light the Day, and Darkness Night He nam'd.   Thus was the first Day Eev'n and Morn: Nor past uncelebrated, nor unsung By the Celestial Quires, when Orient Light Exhaling first from Darkness they beheld; Birth-day of Heav'n and Earth; with joy and shout The hollow Universal Orb they fill'd, And touch't thir Golden Harps, and hymning prais'd God and his works, Creatour him they sung, Both when first Eevning was, and when first Morn. Again, God said, let ther be Firmament Amid the Waters, and let it divide The Waters from the Waters: and God made The Firmament, expanse of liquid, pure, Transparent, Elemental Air, diffus'd In circuit to the uttermost convex Of this great Round: partition firm and sure, The Waters underneath from those above Dividing: for as Earth, so he the World Built on circumfluous Waters calme, in wide Crystallin Ocean, and the loud misrule Of Chaos farr remov'd, least fierce extreames Contiguous might distemper the whole frame: And Heav'n he nam'd the Firmament: So Eev'n And Morning Chorus sung the second Day. The Earth was form'd, but in the Womb as yet Of Waters, Embryon immature involv'd, Appeer'd not: over all the face of Earth Main Ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warme Prolific humour soft'ning all her Globe, Fermented the great Mother to conceave, Satiate with genial moisture, when God said Be gather'd now ye Waters under Heav'n Into one place, and let dry Land appeer. Immediately the Mountains huge appeer Emergent, and thir broad bare backs upheave Into the Clouds, thir tops ascend the Skie: So high as heav'd the tumid Hills, so low Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, Capacious bed of Waters: thither they Hasted with glad precipitance, uprowld As drops on dust conglobing from the drie; Part rise in crystal Wall, or ridge direct, For haste; such flight the great command impress'd On the swift flouds: as Armies at the call Of Trumpet (for of Armies thou hast heard) Troop to thir Standard, so the watrie throng, Wave rowling after Wave, where way they found, If steep, with torrent rapture, if through Plaine, Soft-ebbing; nor withstood them Rock or Hill, But they, or under ground, or circuit wide With Serpent errour wandring, found thir way, And on the washie Oose deep Channels wore; Easie, e're God had bid the ground be drie, All but within those banks, where Rivers now Stream, and perpetual draw thir humid traine. The dry Land, Earth, and the great receptacle Of congregated Waters he call'd Seas: And saw that it was good, and said, Let th' Earth Put forth the verdant Grass, Herb yielding Seed, And Fruit Tree yielding Fruit after her kind; Whose Seed is in her self upon the Earth. He scarce had said, when the bare Earth, till then Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorn'd, Brought forth the tender Grass, whose verdure clad Her Universal Face with pleasant green, Then Herbs of every leaf, that sudden flour'd Op'ning thir various colours, and made gay Her bosom smelling sweet: and these scarce blown, Forth flourish't thick the clustring Vine, forth crept The smelling Gourd, up stood the cornie Reed Embattell'd in her field: and the humble Shrub, And Bush with frizl'd hair implicit: last Rose as in Dance the stately Trees, and spred Thir branches hung with copious Fruit; or gemm'd Thir blossoms: with high woods the hills were crownd, With tufts the vallies and each fountain side, With borders long the Rivers.   That Earth now Seemd like to Heav'n, a seat where Gods might dwell, Or wander with delight, and love to haunt Her sacred shades: though God had yet not rain'd Upon the Earth, and man to till the ground None was, but from the Earth a dewie Mist Went up and waterd all the ground, and each Plant of the field, which e're it was in the Earth God made, and every Herb, before it grew On the green stemm; God saw that it was good. So Eev'n and Morn recorded the Third Day. Again th' Almightie spake: Let there be Lights High in th' expanse of Heaven to divide The Day from Night; and let them be for Signes, For Seasons, and for Dayes, and circling Years, And let them be for Lights as I ordaine Thir Office in the Firmament of Heav'n To give Light on the Earth; and it was so. And God made two great Lights, great for thir use To Man, the greater to have rule by Day, The less by Night alterne: and made the Starrs, And set them in the Firmament of Heav'n To illuminate the Earth, and rule the Day In thir 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 mightie Spheare he fram'd, unlightsom first, Though of Ethereal Mould: then form'd the Moon Globose, and every magnitude of Starrs, And sowd with Starrs the Heav'n thick as a field: Of Light by farr the greater part he took, Transplanted from her cloudie Shrine, and plac'd In the Suns Orb, made porous to receive And drink the liquid Light, firm to retaine Her gather'd beams, great Palace now of Light. Hither as to thir Fountain other Starrs Repairing, in thir gold'n Urns draw Light, And hence the Morning Planet guilds her horns; By tincture or reflection they augment Thir small peculiar, though from human sight So farr remote, with diminution seen. First in his East the glorious Lamp was seen, Regent of Day, and all th' Horizon round Invested with bright Rayes, jocond to run His Longitude through Heav'ns high rode: the gray Dawn, and the Pleiades before him danc'd Shedding sweet influence: less bright the Moon, But opposite in leveld West was set His mirror, with full face borrowing her Light From him, for other light she needed none In that aspect, and still that distance keepes Till night, then in the East her turn she shines, Revolvd on Heav'ns great Axle, and her Reign With thousand lesser Lights dividual holds, With thousand thousand Starres, that then appeer'd Spangling the Hemisphere: then first adornd With thir bright Luminaries that Set and Rose, Glad Eevning and glad Morn crownd the fourth day. And God said, let the Waters generate Reptil with Spawn abundant, living Soule: And let Fowle flie above the Earth, with wings Displayd on the op'n Firmament of Heav'n. And God created the great Whales, and each Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously The waters generated by thir kindes, And every Bird of wing after his kinde; And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying, Be fruitful, multiply, and in the Seas And Lakes and running Streams the waters fill; And let the Fowle be multiply'd on the Earth. Forthwith the Sounds and Seas, each Creek and Bay With Frie innumerable swarme, and Shoales Of Fish that with thir Finns and shining Scales Glide under the green Wave, in Sculles that oft Bank the mid Sea: part single or with mate Graze the Sea weed thir pasture, and through Groves Of Coral stray, or sporting with quick glance Show to the Sun thir wav'd coats dropt with Gold, Or in thir Pearlie shells at ease, attend Moist nutriment, or under Rocks thir food In jointed Armour watch: on smooth the Seale, And bended Dolphins play: part huge of bulk Wallowing unweildie, enormous in thir Gate Tempest the Ocean: there Leviathan Hugest of living Creatures, on the Deep Stretcht like a Promontorie sleeps or swimmes, And seems a moving Land, and at his Gilles Draws in, and at his Trunck spouts out a Sea. Mean while the tepid Caves, and Fens and shoares Thir Brood as numerous hatch, from the Egg that soon Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclos'd Thir callow young, but featherd soon and fledge They summ'd thir Penns, and soaring th' air sublime With clang despis'd the ground, under a cloud In prospect; there the Eagle and the Stork On Cliffs and Cedar tops thir Eyries build: Part loosly wing the Region, part more wise In common, rang'd in figure wedge thir way, Intelligent of seasons, and set forth Thir Aierie Caravan high over Sea's Flying, and over Lands with mutual wing Easing thir flight; so stears the prudent Crane Her annual Voiage, born on Windes; the Aire Floats, as they pass, fann'd with unnumber'd plumes: From Branch to Branch the smaller Birds with song So1ac'd the Woods, and spred thir painted wings Till Ev'n, nor then the solemn Nightingal Ceas'd warbling, but all night tun'd her soft layes: Others on Silver Lakes and Rivers Bath'd Thir downie Brest; the Swan with Arched neck Between her white wings mantling proudly, Rowes Her state with Oarie feet: yet oft they quit The Dank, and rising on stiff Pennons, towre The mid Aereal Skie: Others on ground Walk'd firm; the crested Cock whose clarion sounds The silent hours, and th' other whose gay Traine Adorns him, colour'd with the Florid hue Of Rainbows and Starrie Eyes.   The Waters thus With Fish replenisht, and the Aire with Fowle, Ev'ning and Morn solemniz'd the Fift day. The Sixt, and of Creation last arose With Eevning Harps and Mattin, when God said, Let th' Earth bring forth Foul living in her kinde, Cattel and Creeping things, and Beast of the Earth, Each in their kinde.   The Earth obey'd, and strait Op'ning her fertil Woomb teem'd at a Birth Innumerous living Creatures, perfet formes, Limb'd and full grown: out of the ground up rose As from his Laire the wilde Beast where he wonns In Forrest wilde, in Thicket, Brake, or Den; Among the Trees in Pairs they rose, they walk'd: The Cattel in the Fields and Meddowes green: Those rare and solitarie, these in flocks Pasturing at once, and in broad Herds upsprung. The grassie Clods now Calv'd, now half appeer'd The Tawnie Lion, pawing to get free His hinder parts, then springs as broke from Bonds, And Rampant shakes his Brinded main; the Ounce, The Libbard, and the Tyger, as the Moale Rising, the crumbl'd Earth above them threw In Hillocks; the swift Stag from under ground Bore up his branching head: scarse from his mould Behemoth biggest born of Earth upheav'd His vastness: Fleec't the Flocks and bleating rose, As Plants: ambiguous between Sea and Land The River Horse and scalie Crocodile. At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, Insect or Worme; those wav'd thir limber fans For wings, and smallest Lineaments exact In all the Liveries dect of Summers pride With spots of Gold and Purple, azure and green: These as a line thir long dimension drew, Streaking the ground with sinuous trace; not all Minims of Nature; some of Serpent kinde Wondrous in length and corpulence involv'd Thir Snakie foulds, and added wings.   First crept The Parsimonious Emmet, provident Of future, in small room large heart enclos'd, Pattern of just equalitie perhaps Hereafter, join'd in her popular Tribes Of Commonaltie: swarming next appeer'd The Female Bee that feeds her Husband Drone Deliciously, and builds her waxen Cells With Honey stor'd: the rest are numberless, And thou thir Natures know'st, & gav'st them Names, Needless to thee repeated; nor unknown The Serpent suttl'st Beast of all the field, Of huge extent somtimes, with brazen Eyes And hairie Main terrific, though to thee Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. Now Heav'n in all her Glorie shon, and rowld Her motions, as the great first Movers hand First wheeld thir course; Earth in her rich attire Consummate lovly smil'd; Aire, Water, Earth, By Fowl, Fish, Beast, was flown, was swum, was walkt Frequent; and of the Sixt day yet remain'd; There wanted yet the Master work, the end Of all yet don; a Creature who not prone And Brute as other Creatures, but endu'd With Sanctitie of Reason, might erect His Stature, and upright with Front serene Govern the rest, self-knowing, and from thence Magnanimous to correspond with Heav'n, But grateful to acknowledge whence his good Descends, thither with heart and voice and eyes Directed in Devotion, to adore And worship God Supream, who made him chief Of all his works; therefore the Omnipotent Eternal Father (For where is not hee Present) thus to his Son audibly spake. Let us make now Man in our image, Man In our similitude, and let them rule Over the Fish and Fowle of Sea and Aire, Beast of the Field, and over all the Earth, And every creeping thing that creeps the ground. This said, he formd thee,Adam, thee O Man Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breath'd The breath of Life; in his own Image hee Created thee, in the Image of God Express, and thou becam'st a living Soul. Male he created thee, but thy consort Female for Race; then bless'd Mankinde, and said, Be fruitful, multiplie, and fill the Earth, Subdue it, and throughout Dominion hold Over Fish of the Sea, and Fowle of the Aire, And every living thing that moves on the Earth. Wherever thus created, for no place Is yet distinct by name, thence, as thou knows't He brought thee into this delicious Grove, This Garden, planted with the Trees of God, Delectable both to behold and taste; And freely all thir pleasant fruit for food Gave thee, all sorts are here that all th' Earth yields, Varietie without end; but of the Tree Which tasted works knowledge of Good and Evil, Thou mai'st not; in the day thou eat'st, thou di'st; Death is the penaltie impos'd, beware, And govern well thy appetite, least sin Surprise thee, and her black attendant Death. Here finish'd hee, and all that he had made View'd, and behold all was entirely good; So Ev'n and Morn accomplish'd the Sixt day: Yet not till the Creator from his work Desisting, though unwearied, up returnd Up to the Heav'n of Heav'ns his high abode, Thence to behold this new created World Th' addition of his Empire, how it shew'd In prospect from his Throne, how good, how faire, Answering his great Idea.   Up he rode Followd with acclamation and the sound Symphonious of ten thousand Harpes that tun'd Angelic harmonies: the Earth, the Aire Resounded, (thou remember'st, for thou heardst) The Heav'ns and all the Constellations rung, The Planets in thir station list'ning stood, While the bright Pomp ascended jubilant. Open, ye everlasting Gates, they sung, Open, ye Heav'ns, your living dores; let in The great Creator from his work returnd Magnificent, his Six days work, a World; Open, and henceforth oft; for God will deigne To visit oft the dwellings of just Men Delighted, and with frequent intercourse Thither will send his winged Messengers On errands of supernal Grace.   So sung The glorious Train ascending: He through Heav'n, That open'd wide her blazing Portals, led To Gods Eternal house direct the way, A broad and ample rode, whose dust is Gold And pavement Starrs, as Starrs to thee appeer, Seen in the Galaxie, that Milkie way Which nightly as a circling Zone thou seest Pouderd with Starrs.   And now on Earth the Seventh Eev'ning arose in Eden, for the Sun Was set, and twilight from the East came on, Forerunning Night; when at the holy mount Of Heav'ns high-seated top, th' Impereal Throne Of Godhead, fixt for ever firm and sure, The Filial Power arriv'd, and sate him down With his great Father (for he also went Invisible, yet staid (such priviledge Hath Omnipresence) and the work ordain'd, Author and end of all things, and from work Now resting, bless'd and hallowd the Seav'nth day, As resting on that day from all his work, But not in silence holy kept; the Harp Had work and rested not, the solemn Pipe, And Dulcimer, all Organs of sweet stop, All sounds on Fret by String or Golden Wire Temper'd sort Tunings, intermixt with Voice Choral or Unison: of incense Clouds Fuming from Golden Censers hid the Mount. Creation and the Six dayes acts they sung, Great are thy works,Jehovah, infinite Thy power; what thought can measure thee or tongue Relate thee; greater now in thy return Then from the Giant Angels; thee that day Thy Thunders magnifi'd; but to create Is greater then created to destroy. Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound Thy Empire? easily the proud attempt Of Spirits apostat and thir Counsels vaine Thou hast repeld, while impiously they thought Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw The number of thy worshippers.   Who seekes To lessen thee, against his purpose serves To manifest the more thy might: his evil Thou usest, and from thence creat'st more good. Witness this new-made World, another Heav'n From Heaven Gate not farr, founded in view On the cleer Hyaline, the Glassie Sea; Of amplitude almost immense, with Starr's Numerous, and every Starr perhaps a World Of destind habitation; but thou know'st Thir seasons: among these the seat of men, Earth with her nether Ocean circumfus'd, Thir pleasant dwelling place.   Thrice happie men, And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanc't, Created in his Image, there to dwell And worship him, and in reward to rule Over his Works, on Earth, in Sea, or Air, And multiply a Race of Worshippers Holy and just: thrice happie if they know Thir happiness, and persevere upright. So sung they, and the Empyrean rung, With Halleluiahs: Thus was Sabbath kept. And thy request think now fulfill'd, that ask'd How first this World and face of things began, And what before thy memorie was don From the beginning, that posteritie Informd by thee might know; if else thou seekst Aught, not surpassing human measure, say.

THE Angel ended, and in Adams Eare So Charming left his voice, that he a while Thought him still speaking, still stood fixt to hear; Then as new wak't thus gratefully repli'd. What thanks sufficient, or what recompence Equal have I to render thee, Divine Hystorian, who thus largely hast allayd The thirst I had of knowledge, and voutsaf't This friendly condescention to relate Things else by me unsearchable, now heard With wonder, but delight, and, as is due, With glorie attributed to the high Creator; something yet of doubt remaines, Which onely thy solution can resolve. When I behold this goodly Frame, this World Of Heav'n and Earth consisting, and compute, Thir magnitudes, this Earth a spot, a graine, An Atom, with the Firmament compar'd And all her numberd Starrs, that seem to rowle Spaces incomprehensible (for such Thir distance argues and thir swift return Diurnal) meerly to officiate light Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot, One day and night; in all thir vast survey Useless besides, reasoning I oft admire, How Nature wise and frugal could commit Such disproportions, with superfluous hand So many nobler Bodies to create, Greater so manifold to this one use, For aught appeers, and on thir Orbs impose Such restless revolution day by day Repeated, while the sedentarie Earth, That better might with farr less compass move, Serv'd by more noble then her self, attaines Her end without least motion, and receaves, As Tribute such a sumless journey brought Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light; Speed, to describe whose swiftness Number failes. So spake our Sire, and by his count'nance seemd Entring on studious thoughts abstruse, which Eve Perceaving where she sat retir'd in sight, With lowliness Majestic from her seat, And Grace that won who saw to wish her stay, Rose, and went forth among her Fruits and Flours, To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom, Her Nurserie; they at her coming sprung And toucht by her fair tendance gladlier grew. Yet went she not, as not with such discourse Delighted, or not capable her eare Of what was high: such pleasure she reserv'd, Adam relating, she sole Auditress; Her Husband the Relater she preferr'd Before the Angel, and of him to ask Chose rather; hee, she knew would intermix Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute With conjugal Caresses, from his Lip Not Words alone pleas'd her.   O when meet now Such pairs, in Love and mutual Honour joyn'd? With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went; Not unattended, for on her as Queen A pomp of winning Graces waited still, And from about her shot Darts of desire Into all Eyes to wish her still in sight. And Raphael now to Adam's doubt propos'd Benevolent and facil thus repli'd. To ask or search I blame thee not, for Heav'n Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read his wondrous Works, and learne His Seasons, Hours, or Dayes, or Months, or Yeares: This to attain, whether Heav'n move or Earth, Imports not, if thou reck'n right, the rest From Man or Angel the great Architect Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge His secrets to be scann'd by them who ought Rather admire; or if they list to try Conjecture, he his Fabric of the Heav'ns Hath left to thir disputes, perhaps to move His laughter at thir quaint Opinions wide Hereafter, when they come to model Heav'n And calculate the Starrs, how they will weild The mightie frame, how build, unbuild, contrive To save appeerances, how gird the Sphear With Centric and Eccentric scribl'd o're, Cycle and Epicycle, Orb in Orb: Alreadie by thy reasoning this I guess, Who art to lead thy ofspring, and supposest That bodies bright and greater should not serve The less not bright, nor Heav'n such journies run, Earth sitting still, when she alone receaves The benefit: consider first, that Great Or Bright inferrs not Excellence: the Earth Though, in comparison of Heav'n, so small, Nor glistering, may of solid good containe More plenty then the Sun that barren shines Whose vertue on it self workes no effect, But in the fruitful Earth; there first receavd His beams, unactive else, thir vigour find. Yet not to Earth are those bright Luminaries Officious, but to thee Earths habitant. And for the Heav'ns wide Circuit, let it speak The Makers high magnificence, who built So spacious, and his Line stretcht out so farr; That Man may know he dwells not in his own; An Edifice too large for him to fill, Lodg'd in a small partition, and the rest Ordain'd for uses to his Lord best known. The swiftness of those Circles attribute Though numberless, to his Omnipotence, That to corporeal substances could adde Speed almost Spiritual; mee thou thinkst not slow, Who since the Morning hour set out from Heav'n Where God resides, and ere mid-day arriv'd In Eden, distance inexpressible By Numbers that have name.   But this I urge, Admitting Motion in the Heav'ns, to shew Invalid that which thee to doubt it mov'd; Not that I so affirm, though so it seem To thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth. God to remove his wayes from human sense, Plac'd Heav'n from Earth so farr, that earthly sight, If it presume, might erre in things too high, And no advantage gaine.   What if the Sun Be Center to the World, and other Starrs By his attractive vertue and thir own Incited, dance about him various rounds? Thir wandring course now high, now low, then hid, Progressive, retrograde, or standing still, In six thou seest, and what if sev'nth to these The Planet Earth, so stedfast though she seem, Insensibly three different Motions move? Which else to several Sphears thou must ascribe, Mov'd contrarie with thwart obliquities, Or save the Sun his labour, and that swift Nocturnal and Diurnal rhomb suppos'd, Invisible else above all Starrs, the Wheele Of Day and Night; which needs not thy beleefe, If Earth industrious of her self fetch Day Travelling East, and with her part averse From the Suns beam meet Night, her other part Still luminous by his ray.   What if that light Sent from her through the wide transpicuous aire, To the terrestrial Moon be as a Starr Enlightning her by Day, as she by Night This Earth? reciprocal, if Land be there, Feilds and Inhabitants: Her spots thou seest As Clouds, and Clouds may rain, and Rain produce Fruits in her soft'nd Soile, for some to eate Allotted there; and other Suns perhaps With thir attendant Moons thou wilt descrie Communicating Male and Femal Light, Which two great Sexes animate the World, Stor'd in each Orb perhaps with some that live. For such vast room in Nature unpossest By living Soule, desert and desolate, Onely to shine, yet scarce to contribute Each Orb a glimps of Light, conveyd so farr Down to this habitable, which returnes Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. But whether thus these things, or whether not, Whether the Sun predominant in Heav'n Rise on the Earth, or Earth rise on the Sun Hee from the East his flaming rode begin, Or Shee from West her silent course advance With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps On her soft Axle, while she paces Eev'n, And beares thee soft with the smooth Air along, Sollicit not thy thoughts with matters hid, Leave them to God above, him serve and feare; Of other Creatures, as him pleases best, Wherever plac't, let him dispose: joy thou In what he gives to thee, this Paradise And thy faire Eve; Heav'n is for thee too high To know what passes there; be lowlie wise:. Think onely what concernes thee and thy being; Dream not of other Worlds, what Creatures there Live, in what state, condition or degree, Contented that thus farr hath been reveal'd Not of Earth onely but of highest Heav'n. To whom thus Adam cleerd of doubt, repli'd. How fully hast thou satisfi'd mee, pure Intelligence of Heav'n, Angel serene, And freed from intricacies, taught to live, The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts To interrupt the sweet of Life, from which God hath bid dwell farr off all anxious cares, And not molest us, unless we our selves Seek them with wandring thoughts, and notions vain. But apt the Mind or Fancie is to roave Uncheckt, and of her roaving is no end; Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learne, That not to know at large of things remote From use, obscure and suttle, but to know That which before us lies in daily life, Is the prime Wisdom, what is more, is fume, Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, And renders us in things that most concerne Unpractis'd, unprepar'd, and still to seek. Therefore from this high pitch let us descend A lower flight, and speak of things at hand Useful, whence haply mention may arise Of somthing not unseasonable to ask By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign'd. Thee I have heard relating what was don Ere my remembrance: now hear mee relate My Storie, which perhaps thou hast not heard; And Day is yet not spent; till then thou seest How suttly to detaine 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, And sweeter thy discourse is to my eare Then Fruits of Palm-tree pleasantest to thirst And hunger both, from labour, at the houre Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill, Though pleasant, but thy words with Grace Divine Imbu'd, bring to thir sweetness no satietie. 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 Inward and outward both, his image faire: Speaking or mute all comliness and grace Attends thee, and each word, each motion formes, Nor less think wee in Heav'n of thee on Earth Then of our fellow servant, and inquire Gladly into the wayes 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 befell, Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, Farr on excursion toward the Gates of Hell; Squar'd in full Legion (such command we had) To see that none thence issu'd forth a spie, Or enemie, while God was in his work, Least hee incenst at such eruption bold, Destruction with Creation might have mixt. Not that they durst without his leave attempt, But us he sends upon his high behests For state, as Sovran King, and to enure Our prompt obedience.   Fast we found, fast shut The dismal Gates, and barricado'd strong; But long ere our approaching heard within Noise, other then the sound of Dance or Song, Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. Glad we return'd up to the coasts of Light Ere Sabbath Eev'ning: so we had in charge. But thy relation now; for I attend, Pleas'd with thy words no less then thou with mine. So spake the Godlike Power, and thus our Sire. For Man to tell how human Life began Is hard; for who himself beginning knew? Desire with thee still longer to converse Induc'd me.   As new wak't from soundest sleep Soft on the flourie herb I found me laid In Balmie Sweat, which with his Beames the Sun Soon dri'd, and on the reaking moisture fed. Strait toward Heav'n my wondring Eyes I turnd, And gaz'd a while the ample Skie, till rais'd By quick instinctive motion up I sprung, As thitherward endevoring, and upright Stood on my feet; about me round I saw Hill, Dale, and shadie Woods, and sunnie Plaines, And liquid Lapse of murmuring Streams; by these, Creatures that livd, and movd, and walk'd, or flew, Birds on the branches warbling; all things smil'd, With fragrance and with joy my heart oreflow'd. My self I then perus'd, and Limb by Limb Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran With supple joints, and lively vigour led: But who I was, or where, or from what cause, Knew not; to speak I tri'd, and forthwith spake My Tongue obey'd and readily could name What e're I saw.   Thou Sun, said I, faire Light, And thou enlight'nd Earth, so fresh and gay, Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods, and Plaines, And ye that live and move, fair Creatures, tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here? Not of my self; by some great Maker then, In goodness and in power praeeminent; Tell me, how may I know him, how adore, From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier then I know. While thus I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither, From where I first drew Aire, and first beheld This happie Light, when answer none return'd, On a green shadie Bank profuse of Flours Pensive I sate me down; there gentle sleep First found me, and with soft oppression seis'd My droused sense, untroubl'd, though I thought I then was passing to my former state Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve: When suddenly stood at my Head a dream, Whose inward apparition gently mov'd My fancy to believe I yet had being, And livd: One came, methought, of shape Divine, And said, thy Mansion wants thee,Adam, rise, First Man, of Men innumerable ordain'd First Father, call'd by thee I come thy Guide To the Garden of bliss, thy seat prepar'd. So saying, by the hand he took me rais'd, And over Fields and Waters, as in Aire Smooth sliding without step, last led me up A woodie Mountain; whose high top was plaine, A Circuit wide, enclos'd, with goodliest Trees Planted, with Walks, and Bowers, that what I saw Of Earth before scarce pleasant seemd.   Each Tree Load'n with fairest Fruit that hung to the Eye Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite To pluck and eate; whereat I wak'd, and found Before mine Eyes all real, as the dream Had lively shadowd: Here had new begun My wandring, had not hee who was my Guide Up hither, from among the Trees appeer'd Presence Divine.   Rejoycing, but with aw In adoration at his feet I fell Submiss: he rear'd me, and Whom thou soughtst I am, Said mildely, Author of all this thou seest Above, or round about thee or beneath. This Paradise I give thee, count it thine To Till and keep, and of the Fruit to eate: Of every Tree that in the Garden growes Eate freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth: But of the Tree whose operation brings Knowledg of good and ill, which I have set The Pledge of thy Obedience and thy Faith Amid the Garden by the Tree of Life Remember what I warne thee, shun to taste, And shun the bitter consequence: for know, The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command Transgrest, inevitably thou shalt dye; From that day mortal, and this happie State Shalt loose, expell'd from hence into a World Of woe and sorrow.   Sternly he pronounc'd The rigid interdiction, which resounds Yet dreadful in mine eare, though in my choice Not to incur; but soon his cleer aspect Return'd and gracious purpose thus renew'd. Not onely these fair bounds, but all the Earth To thee and to thy Race I give; as Lords Possess it, and all things that therein live, Or live in Sea, or Aire, Beast, Fish, and Fowle. In signe whereof each Bird and Beast behold After thir kindes; I bring them to receave From thee thir Names, and pay thee fealtie With low subjection; understand the same Of Fish within thir watry residence, Not hither summond, since they cannot change Thir Element to draw the thinner Aire. As thus he spake, each Bird and Beast behold Approaching two and two, These cowring low With blandishment, each Bird stoop'd on his wing. I nam'd them, as they pass'd, and understood Thir Nature, with such knowledg God endu'd My sudden apprehension: but in these I found not what me thought I wanted still; And to the Heav'nly vision thus presum'd. O by what Name, for thou above all these, Above mankinde, or aught then mankinde higher, Surpassest farr my naming, how may I Adore thee, Author of this Universe, And all this good to man, for whose well being So amply, and with hands so liberal Thou hast provided all things: but with mee I see not who partakes.   In solitude What happiness, who can enjoy alone, Or all enjoying, what contentment find? Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright, As with a smile more bright'nd, thus repli'd. What call'st thou solitude, is not the Earth With various living creatures, and the Aire Replenisht, and all these at thy command To come and play before thee, know'st thou not Thir language and thir wayes, they also know, And reason not contemptibly; with these Find pastime, and beare rule; thy Realm is large. So spake the Universal Lord, and seem'd So ordering.   I with leave of speech implor'd, And humble deprecation thus repli'd. Let not my words offend thee, Heav'nly Power, My Maker, be propitious while I speak. Hast thou not made me here thy substitute, And these inferiour farr beneath me set? Among unequals what societie Can sort, what harmonie or true delight? Which must be mutual, in proportion due Giv'n and receiv'd; but in disparitie The one intense, the other still remiss Cannot well suite with either, but soon prove Tedious alike: Of fellowship I speak Such as I seek, fit to participate All rational delight, wherein the brute Cannot be human consort; they rejoyce Each with thir kinde, Lion with Lioness; So fitly them in pairs thou hast combin'd; Much less can Bird with Beast, or Fish with Fowle So well converse, nor with the Ox the Ape; Wors then can Man with Beast, and least of all. Whereto th' Almighty answer'd, not displeas'd. A nice and suttle happiness I see Thou to thy self proposest, in the choice Of thy Associates,Adam, and wilt taste No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitarie. What thinkst thou then of mee, and this my State, Seem I to thee sufficiently possest Of happiness, or not? who am alone From all Eternitie, 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 inferiour, infinite descents Beneath what other Creatures are to thee? He ceas'd, I lowly answer'd.   To attaine The highth and depth of thy Eternal wayes All human thoughts come short, Supream of things; Thou in thy self art perfet, and in thee Is no deficience found; not so is Man, But in degree, the cause of his desire By conversation with his like to help, Or solace his defects.   No need that thou Shouldst propagat, already infinite; And through all numbers absolute, though One; But Man by number is to manifest His single imperfection, and beget Like of his like, his Image multipli'd, In unitie defective, which requires Collateral love, and deerest amitie. Thou in thy secresie although alone, Best with thy self accompanied, seek'st not Social communication, yet so pleas'd, Canst raise thy Creature to what highth thou wilt Of Union or Communion, deifi'd; I by conversing cannot these erect From prone, nor in thir wayes complacence find. Thus I embold'nd spake, and freedom us'd Permissive, and acceptance found, which gain'd This answer from the gratious voice Divine. Thus farr to try thee,Adam, I was pleas'd, And finde thee knowing not of Beasts alone, Which thou hast rightly nam'd, but of thy self, Expressing well the spirit within thee free, My Image, not imparted to the Brute, Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike, And be so minded still; I, ere thou spak'st, Knew it not good for Man to be alone, And no such companie as then thou saw'st Intended thee, for trial onely brought, To see how thou could'st judge of fit and meet: What next I bring shall please thee, be assur'd, Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, Thy wish exactly to thy hearts desire. Hee ended, or I heard no more, for now My earthly by his Heav'nly overpowerd, Which it had long stood under, streind to the highth In that celestial Colloquie sublime, As with an object that excels the sense, Dazl d and spent, sunk down, and sought repair Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'd By Nature as in aide, and clos'd mine eyes. Mine eyes he clos'd, but op'n left the Cell Of Fancie my internal sight, by which Abstract as in a transe methought I saw, Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape Still glorious before whom awake I stood; Who stooping op'nd my left side, and took From thence a Rib, with cordial spirits warme, And Life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound, But suddenly with flesh fill'd up and heal'd: The Rib he formd and fashond with his hands; Under his forming hands a Creature grew, Manlike, but different Sex, so lovly faire, That what seemd fair in all the World, seemd now Mean, or in her summd up, in her containd And in her looks, which from that time infus'd Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before, And into all things from her Aire inspir'd The spirit of love and amorous delight. Shee disappeerd, and left me dark, I wak'd To find her, or for ever to deplore Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure: When out of hope, behold her, not farr off, Such as I saw her in my dream, adornd With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow To make her amiable: On she came, Led by her Heav'nly Maker, though unseen, And guided by his voice, nor uninformd Of nuptial Sanctitie and marriage Rites: Grace was in all her steps, Heav'n in her Eye, In every gesture dignitie and love. I overjoyd could not forbear aloud. This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfill'd Thy words, Creator bounteous and benigne, Giver of all things faire, but fairest this Of all thy gifts, nor enviest.   I now see Bone of my Bone, Flesh of my Flesh, my Self Before me; Woman is her Name, of Man Extracted; for this cause he shall forgoe Father and Mother, and to his Wife adhere; And they shall be one Flesh, one Heart, one Soule. She heard me thus, and though divinely brought, Yet Innocence and Virgin Modestie, Her vertue and the conscience of her worth, That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won, Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retir'd, The more desirable, or to say all, Nature her self, though pure of sinful thought, Wrought in her so, that seeing me, she turn'd; I follow'd her, she what was Honour knew, And with obsequious Majestie approv'd My pleaded reason.   To the Nuptial Bowre I led her blushing like the Morn: all Heav'n, And happie Constellations on that houre Shed thir selectest influence; the Earth Gave sign of gratulation, and each Hill; Joyous the Birds; fresh Gales and gentle Aires Whisper'd it to the Woods, and from thir wings Flung Rose, flung Odours from the spicie Shrub, Disporting, till the amorous Bird of Night Sung Spousal, and bid haste the Eevning Starr On his Hill top, to light the bridal Lamp. Thus I have told thee all my State, and brought My Storie to the sum of earthly bliss Which I enjoy, and must confess to find In all things else delight indeed, but such As us'd or not, works in the mind no change, Nor vehement desire, these delicacies I mean of Taste, Sight, Smell, Herbs, Fruits, and Flours, Walks, and the melodie of Birds; but here Farr otherwise, transported I behold, Transported touch; here passion first I felt, Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else Superiour and unmov'd, here onely weake Against the charm of Beauties powerful glance. Or Nature faild in mee, and left some part Not proof enough such Object to sustain, Or from my side subducting, took perhaps More then enough; at least on her bestow'd Too much of Ornament, in outward shew Elaborate, of inward less exact. For well I understand in the prime end Of Nature her th' inferiour, in the mind And inward Faculties, which most excell, In outward also her resembling less His Image who made both, and less expressing The character of that Dominion giv'n O're other Creatures; yet when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems And in her self compleat, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say, Seems wisest, vertuousest, discreetest, best; All higher knowledge in her presence falls Degraded, Wisdom in discourse with her Looses discount'nanc't, and like folly shewes; Authority and Reason on her waite, As one intended first, not after made Occasionally; and to consummate all, Greatness of mind and nobleness thir seat Build in her loveliest, and create an awe About her, as a guard Angelic plac't. To whom the Angel with contracted brow. Accuse not Nature, she hath don her part; Do thou but thine, and be not diffident Of Wisdom, she deserts thee not, if thou Dismiss not her, when most thou needst her nigh, By attributing overmuch to things Less excellent, as thou thy self perceav'st. For what admir'st thou, what transports thee so, An outside? fair no doubt, and worthy well Thy cherishing, thy honouring, and thy love, Not thy subjection: weigh with her thy self; Then value: Oft times nothing profits more Then self esteem, grounded on just and right Well manag'd; of that skill the more thou know'st, The more she will acknowledge thee her Head, And to realities yield all her shows: Made so adorn for thy delight the more, So awful, that with honour thou maist love Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise. But if the sense of touch whereby mankind Is propagated seem such dear delight Beyond all other, think the same voutsaf't To Cattel and each Beast; which would not be To them made common and divulg'd, if aught Therein enjoy'd were worthy to subdue The Soule of Man, or passion in him move. What higher in her societie thou findst Attractive, human, rational, love still; In loving thou dost well, in passion not, Wherein true Love consists not; love refines The thoughts, and heart enlarges, hath his seat In Reason, and is judicious, is the scale By which to heav'nly Love thou maist ascend, Not sunk in carnal pleasure, for which cause Among the Beasts no Mate for thee was found. To whom thus half abash't Adam repli'd. Neither her out-side formd so fair, nor aught In procreation common to all kindes (Though higher of the genial Bed by far, And with mysterious reverence I deem) So much delights me as those graceful acts, Those thousand decencies that daily flow From all her words and actions mixt with Love And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd Union of Mind, or in us both one Soule; Harmonie to behold in wedded pair More grateful then harmonious sound to the eare. Yet these subject not; I to thee disclose What inward thence I feel, not therefore foild, Who meet with various objects, from the sense Variously representing; yet still free Approve the best, and follow what I approve. To love thou blam'st me not, for love thou saist 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 thir Love Express they, by looks onely, or do they mix Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch? To whom the Angel with a smile that glow'd Celestial rosie red, Loves proper hue, Answer'd.   Let it suffice thee that thou know'st Us happie, and without Love no happiness. Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy'st (And pure thou wert created) we enjoy In eminence, and obstacle find none Of membrane, joynt, or limb, exclusive barrs: Easier then Air with Air; if Spirits embrace, Total they mix, Union of Pure with Pure Desiring; nor restrain'd conveyance need As Flesh to mix with Flesh, or Soul with Soul. But I can now no more; the parting Sun Beyond the Earths green Cape and verdant Isles Hesperean sets, my Signal to depart. Be strong, live happie, and love, but first of all Him whom to love is to obey, and keep His great command; take heed least Passion sway Thy judgement to do aught, which else free Will Would not admit; thine and of all thy Sons The weal or woe in thee is plac't; beware. I in thy persevering shall rejoyce, And all the Blest: stand fast; to stand or fall Free in thine own Arbitrement it lies. Perfet within, no outward aid require; And all temptation to transgress repel. So saying, he arose; whom Adam thus Follow'd with benediction.   Since to part, Go heavenly Guest, Ethereal Messenger, Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore. Gentle to me and affable hath been Thy condescension, and shall be honour'd ever With grateful Memorie: thou to mankind Be good and friendly still, and oft return. So parted they, the Angel up to Heav'n From the thick shade, and Adam to his Bowre.

NO more of talk where God or Angel Guest With Man, as with his Friend, familiar us'd To sit indulgent, and with him partake Rural repast, permitting him the while Venial discourse unblam'd: I now must change Those Notes to Tragic; foul distrust, and breach Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt, And disobedience: On the part of Heav'n Now alienated, distance and distaste, Anger and just rebuke, and judgement giv'n, That brought into this World a world of woe, Sinne and her shadow Death, and Miserie Deaths Harbinger: Sad task, yet argument Not less but more Heroic then the wrauth Of stern Achilles on his Foe pursu'd Thrice Fugitive about Troy Wall; or rage Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd, Or Neptun's ire or Juno's, that so long Perplex'd the Greek and Cytherea's Son; If answerable style I can obtaine Of my Celestial Patroness, who deignes Her nightly visitation unimplor'd, And dictates to me slumbring, or inspires Easie my unpremeditated Verse: Since first this Subject for Heroic Song Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late; Not sedulous by Nature to indite Warrs, hitherto the onely Argument Heroic deem'd, chief maistrie to dissect With long and tedious havoc fabl'd Knights In Battels feign'd; the better fortitude Of Patience and Heroic Martyrdom Unsung; or to describe Races and Games, Or tilting Furniture, emblazon'd Shields, Impreses quaint, Caparisons and Steeds; Bases and tinsel Trappings, gorgious Knights At Joust and Torneament; then marshal'd Feast Serv'd up in Hall with Sewers, and Seneshals; The skill of Artifice or Office mean, Not that which justly gives Heroic name To Person or to Poem.   Mee of these Nor skilld nor studious, higher Argument Remaines, sufficient of it self to raise That name, unless an age too late, or cold Climat, or Years damp my intended wing Deprest, and much they may, if all be mine, Not Hers who brings it nightly to my Ear. The Sun was sunk, and after him the Starr Of Hesperus, whose Office is to bring Twilight upon the Earth, short Arbiter Twixt Day and Night, and now from end to end Nights Hemisphere had veild the Horizon round: When Satan who late fled before the threats Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improv'd In meditated fraud and malice, bent On mans destruction, maugre what might hap Of heavier on himself, fearless return'd. By Night he fled, and at Midnight return'd From compassing the Earth, cautious of day, Since Uriel Regent of the Sun descri'd His entrance, and forewarnd the Cherubim That kept thir watch; thence full of anguish driv'n, The space of seven continu'd Nights he rode With darkness, thrice the Equinoctial Line He circl'd, four times cross'd the Carr of Night From Pole to Pole, traversing each Colure; On the eighth return'd, and on the Coast averse From entrance or Cherubic Watch, by stealth Found unsuspected way.   There was a place, Now not, though Sin, not Time, first wraught the change, Where Tigris at the foot of Paradise Into a Gulf shot under ground, till part Rose up a Fountain by the Tree of Life; In with the River sunk, and with it rose Satan involv'd in rising Mist, then sought Where to lie hid; Sea he had searcht and Land From Eden over Pontus, and the Poole Maotis, up beyond the River Ob; Downward as farr Antartic; and in length West from Orontes to the Ocean barr'd At Darien, thence to the Land where flowes Ganges and Indus: thus the Orb he roam'd With narrow search; and with inspection deep Consider'd every Creature, which of all Most opportune might serve his Wiles, and found The Serpent suttlest Beast of all the Field. Him after long debate, irresolute Of thoughts revolv'd, his final sentence chose Fit Vessel, fittest Imp of fraud, in whom To enter, and his dark suggestions hide From sharpest sight: for in the wilie Snake, Whatever sleights none would suspicious mark, As from his wit and native suttletie Proceeding, which in other Beasts observ'd Doubt might beget of Diabolic pow'r Active within beyond the sense of brute. Thus he resolv'd, but first from inward griefe His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd: O Earth, how like to Heav'n, if not preferr'd More justly, Seat worthier of Gods, as built With second thoughts, reforming what was old! For what God after better worse would build? Terrestrial Heav'n, danc't round by other Heav'ns That shine, yet bear thir bright officious Lamps, Light above Light, for thee alone, as seems, In thee concentring all thir precious beams Of sacred influence:   As God in Heav'n Is Center, yet extends to all, so thou Centring receav'st from all those Orbs; in thee, Not in themselves, all thir known vertue appeers Productive in Herb, Plant, and nobler birth Of Creatures animate with gradual life Of Growth, Sense, Reason, all summ'd up in Man. With what delight could I have walkt thee round, If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange Of Hill, and Vallie, Rivers, Woods and Plaines, Now Land, now Sea, and Shores with Forrest crownd, Rocks, Dens, and Caves; but I in none of these Find place or refuge; and the more I see Pleasures about me, so much more I feel Torment within me, as from the hateful siege Of contraries; all good to me becomes Bane, and in Heav'n much worse would be my state. But neither here seek I, no nor in Heav'n To dwell, unless by maistring Heav'ns Supreame; Nor hope to be my self less miserable By what I seek, but others to make such As I, though thereby worse to me redound: For onely in destroying I find ease To my relentless thoughts; and him destroyd, Or won to what may work his utter loss, For whom all this was made, all this will soon Follow, as to him linkt in weal or woe, In wo then; that destruction wide may range: To mee shall be the glorie sole among The infernal Powers, in one day to have marr'd What he Almightie styl'd, six Nights and Days Continu'd making, and who knows how long Before had bin contriving, though perhaps Not longer then since I in one Night freed From servitude inglorious welnigh half Th' Angelic Name, and thinner left the throng Of his adorers: hee to be aveng'd, And to repaire his numbers thus impair'd, Whether such vertue spent of old now faild More Angels to Create, if they at least Are his Created, or to spite us more, Determin'd to advance into our room A Creature form'd of Earth, and him endow, Exalted from so base original, With Heav'nly spoils, our spoils: What he decreed He effected; Man he made, and for him built Magnificent this World, and Earth his seat, Him Lord pronounc'd, and, O indignitie! Subjected to his service Angel wings, And flaming Ministers to watch and tend Thir earthy Charge: Of these the vigilance I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist Of midnight vapor glide obscure, and prie In every Bush and Brake, where hap may finde The Serpent sleeping, in whose mazie foulds To hide me, and the dark intent I bring. O foul descent! that I who erst contended With Gods to sit the highest, am now constraind Into a Beast, and mixt with bestial slime, This essence to incarnate and imbrute, That to the hight of Deitie aspir'd; But what will not Ambition and Revenge Descend to? who aspires must down as low As high he soard, obnoxious first or last To basest things.   Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on it self recoiles; Let it; I reck not, so it light well aim'd, Since higher I fall short, on him who next Provokes my envie, this new Favorite Of Heav'n, this Man of Clay, Son of despite, Whom us the more to spite his Maker rais'd From dust: spite then with spite is best repaid. So saying, through each Thicket Danck or Drie, Like a black mist low creeping, he held on His midnight search, where soonest he might finde The Serpent: him fast sleeping soon he found In Labyrinth of many a round self-rowld, His head the midst, well stor'd with suttle wiles: Not yet in horrid Shade or dismal Den, Nor nocent yet, but on the grassie Herbe Fearless unfeard he slept: in at his Mouth The Devil enterd, and his brutal sense, In heart or head, possessing soon inspir'd With act intelligential, but his sleep Disturbd not, waiting close th' approach of Morn. Now when as sacred Light began to dawne In Eden on the humid Flours, that breathd Thir morning incense, when all things that breath, From th' Earths great Altar send up silent praise To the Creator, and his Nostrils fill With grateful Smell, forth came the human pair And joind thir vocal Worship to the Quire Of Creatures wanting voice, that done, partake The season, prime for sweetest Sents and Aires: Then commune how that day they best may ply Thir growing work: for much thir work outgrew The hands dispatch of two Gardning so wide. And Eve first to her Husband thus began. Adam, well may we labour still to dress This Garden, still to tend Plant, Herb and Flour, Our pleasant task enjoyn'd, but till more hands Aid us, the work under our labour grows, Luxurious by restraint; what we by day Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, One night or two with wanton growth derides Tending to wilde.   Thou therefore now advise Or hear what to my minde first thoughts present, Let us divide our labours, thou where choice Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind The Woodbine round this Arbour, or direct The clasping Ivie where to climb, while I In yonder Spring of Roses intermixt With Myrtle, find what to redress till Noon: For while so near each other thus all day Our taske we choose, what wonder if so near Looks intervene and smiles, or object new Casual discourse draw on, which intermits Our dayes work brought to little, though begun Early, and th' hour of Supper comes unearn'd. To whom mild answer Adam thus return'd. Sole Eve, Associate sole, to me beyond Compare above all living Creatures deare, Well hast thou motion'd, well thy thoughts imployd How we might best fulfill the work which here God hath assign'd us, nor of me shalt pass Unprais'd: for nothing lovelier can be found In Woman, then to studie houshold good, And good workes in her Husband to promote. Yet not so strictly hath our Lord impos'd Labour, as to debarr us when we need Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse Of looks and smiles, for smiles from Reason flow, To brute deni'd, and are of Love the food, Love not the lowest end of human life. For not to irksom toile, but to delight He made us, and delight to Reason joyn'd. These paths & Bowers doubt not but our joynt hands Will keep from Wilderness with ease, as wide As we need walk, till younger hands ere long Assist us: But if much converse perhaps Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield. For solitude somtimes is best societie, And short retirement urges sweet returne. But other doubt possesses me, least harm Befall thee sever'd from me; for thou knowst What hath bin warn'd us, what malicious Foe Envying our happiness, and of his own Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame By sly assault; and somwhere nigh at hand Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find His wish and best advantage, us asunder, Hopeless to circumvent us joynd, where each To other speedie aide might lend at need; Whether his first design be to withdraw Our fealtie from God, or to disturb Conjugal Love, then which perhaps no bliss Enjoy'd by us excites his envie more; Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side That gave thee being, still shades thee and protects. The Wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, Safest and seemliest by her Husband staies, Who guards her, or with her the worst endures. To whom the Virgin Majestie of Eve, As one who loves, and some unkindness meets, With sweet austeer composure thus reply'd, Ofspring of Heav'n and Earth, and all Earths Lord, That such an Enemie we have, who seeks Our ruin, both by thee informd I learne, And from the parting Angel over-heard As in a shadie nook I stood behind, Just then returnd at shut of Evening Flours. But that thou shouldst my firmness therfore doubt To God or thee, because we have a foe May tempt it, I expected not to hear. His violence thou fearst not, being such, As wee, not capable of death or paine, Can either not receave, or can repell. His fraud is then thy fear, which plain inferrs Thy equal fear that my firm Faith and Love Can by his fraud be shak'n or seduc't; Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy brest Adam, missthought of her to thee so dear? To whom with healing words Adam replyd. 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 it self, intended by our Foe. For hee who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses The tempted with dishonour foul, suppos'd Not incorruptible of Faith, not prooff Against temptation: thou thy self with scorne And anger wouldst resent the offer'd wrong, Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then, If such affront I labour to avert From thee alone, which on us both at once The Enemie, though bold, will hardly dare, Or daring, first on mee th' assault shall light. Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn; Suttle he needs must be, who could seduce Angels, nor think superfluous others aid. I from the influence of thy looks receave Access in every Vertue, in thy sight More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were Of outward strength; while shame, thou looking on, Shame to be overcome or over-reacht Would utmost vigor raise, and rais'd unite. Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel When I am present, and thy trial choose With me, best witness of thy Vertue tri'd. So spake domestick Adam in his care And Matrimonial Love; but Eve, who thought Less attributed to her Faith sincere, Thus her reply with accent sweet renewd. If this be our condition, thus to dwell In narrow circuit strait'nd by a Foe, Suttle or violent, we not endu'd Single with like defence, wherever met, How are we happie, still in fear of harm? But harm precedes not sin: onely our Foe Tempting affronts us with his foul esteem Of our integritie: his foul esteeme Sticks no dishonour on our Front, but turns Foul on himself; then wherefore shund or feard By us? who rather double honour gaine From his surmise prov'd false, find peace within, Favour from Heav'n, our witness from th' event. And what is Faith, Love, Vertue unassaid Alone, without exterior help sustaind? Let us not then suspect our happie State Left so imperfet by the Maker wise, As not secure to single or combin'd. Fraile is our happiness, if this be so, And Eden were no Eden thus expos'd. To whom thus Adam fervently repli'd. O Woman, best are all things as the will Of God ordain'd them, his creating hand Nothing imperfet or deficient left Of all that he Created, much less Man, Or aught that might his happie State secure, Secure from outward force; within himself The danger lies, yet lies within his power: Against his will he can receave no harme. But God left free the Will, for what obeyes Reason, is free, and Reason he made right, But bid her well beware, and still erect, Least by some faire appeering good surpris'd She dictate false, and misinforme the Will To do what God expressly hath forbid. Not then mistrust, but tender love enjoynes, That I should mind thee oft, and mind thou me. Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve, Since Reason not impossibly may meet Some specious object by the Foe subornd, And fall into deception unaware, Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warnd. Seek not temptation then, which to avoide Were better, and most likelie if from mee Thou sever not: Trial will come unsought. Wouldst thou approve thy constancie, approve First thy obedience; th' other who can know, Not seeing thee attempted, who attest? But if thou think, trial unsought may finde Us both securer then thus warnd thou seemst, Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more; Go in thy native innocence, relie On what thou hast of vertue, summon all, For God towards thee hath done his part, do thine. So spake the Patriarch of Mankinde, but Eve Persisted, yet submiss, though last, repli'd. With thy permission then, and thus forewarnd Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words Touchd onely, that our trial, when least sought, May finde us both perhaps farr less prepar'd, The willinger I goe, nor much expect A Foe so proud will first the weaker seek; So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse. Thus saying, from her Husbands hand her hand Soft she withdrew, and like a Wood-Nymph light Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's Traine, Betook her to the Groves, but Delia's self In gate surpass'd and Goddess-like deport, Though not as shee with Bow and Quiver armd, But with such Gardning Tools as Art yet rude, Guiltless of fire had formd, or Angels brought. To Pales, or Pomona thus adornd, Likeliest she seemd,Pomona when she fled Vertumnus, or to Ceres in her Prime, Yet Virgin of Proserpina from Jove. Her long with ardent look his Eye pursu'd Delighted, but desiring more her stay. Oft he to her his charge of quick returne Repeated, shee to him as oft engag'd To be returnd by Noon amid the Bowre, And all things in best order to invite Noontide repast, or Afternoons repose. O much deceav'd, much failing, hapless Eve, Of thy presum'd return! event perverse! Thou never from that houre in Paradise Foundst either sweet repast, or sound repose; Such ambush hid among sweet Flours and Shades Waited with hellish rancour imminent To intercept thy way, or send thee back Despoild of Innocence, of Faith, of Bliss. For now, and since first break of dawne the Fiend, Meer Serpent in appearance, forth was come, And on his Quest, where likeliest he might finde The onely two of Mankinde, but in them The whole included Race, his purposd prey. In Bowre and Field he sought, where any tuft Of Grove or Garden-Plot more pleasant lay, Thir tendance or Plantation for delight, By Fountain or by shadie Rivulet He sought them both, but wish'd his hap might find Eve separate, he wish'd, but not with hope Of what so seldom chanc'd, when to his wish, Beyond his hope,Eve separate he spies, Veild in a Cloud of Fragrance, where she stood, Half spi'd, so thick the Roses bushing round About her glowd, oft stooping to support Each Flour of slender stalk, whose head though gay Carnation, Purple, Azure, or spect with Gold, Hung drooping unsustaind, them she upstaies Gently with Mirtle band, mindless the while, Her self, though fairest unsupported Flour, From her best prop so farr, and storm so nigh. Neerer he drew, and many a walk travers'd Of stateliest Covert, Cedar, Pine, or Palme, Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen Among thick-wov'n Arborets and Flours Imborderd on each Bank, the hand of Eve: Spot more delicious then those Gardens feign'd Or of reviv'd Adonis, or renownd Alcinous, host of old Laertes Son, Or that, not Mystic, where the Sapient King Held dalliance with his faire Egyptian Spouse. Much hee the Place admir'd, the Person more. As one who long in populous City pent, Where Houses thick and Sewers annoy the Aire, Forth issuing on a Summers Morn to breathe Among the pleasant Villages and Farmes Adjoynd, from each thing met conceaves delight, The smell of Grain, or tedded Grass, or Kine, Or Dairie, each rural sight, each rural sound; If chance with Nymphlike step fair Virgin pass, What pleasing seemd, for her now pleases more, She most, and in her look summs all Delight. Such Pleasure took the Serpent to behold This Flourie Plat, the sweet recess of Eve Thus earlie, thus alone; her Heav'nly forme Angelic, but more soft, and Feminine, Her graceful Innocence, her every Aire Of gesture or lest action overawd His Malice, and with rapine sweet bereav'd His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought: That space the Evil one abstracted stood From his own evil, and for the time remaind Stupidly good, of enmitie disarm'd, Of guile, of hate, of envie, of revenge; But the hot Hell that alwayes in him burnes, Though in mid Heav'n, soon ended his delight, And tortures him now more, the more he sees Of pleasure not for him ordain'd: then soon Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites. Thoughts, whither have ye led me, with what sweet Compulsion thus transported to forget What hither brought us, hate, not love, nor hope Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy, Save what is in destroying, other joy To me is lost.   Then let me not let pass Occasion which now smiles, behold alone The Woman, opportune to all attempts, Her Husband, for I view far round, not nigh, Whose higher intellectual more I shun, And strength, of courage hautie, and of limb Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould, Foe not informidable, exempt from wound, I not; so much hath Hell debas'd, and paine Infeebl'd me, to what I was in Heav'n. Shee fair, divinely fair, fit Love for Gods, Not terrible, though terrour be in Love And beautie, not approacht by stronger hate, Hate stronger, under shew of Love well feign'd, The way which to her ruin now I tend. So spake the Enemie of Mankind, enclos'd In Serpent, Inmate bad, and toward Eve Address'd his way, not with indented wave, Prone on the ground, as since, but on his reare, Circular base of rising foulds, that tour'd Fould above fould a surging Maze, his Head Crested aloft, and Carbuncle his Eyes; With burnisht Neck of verdant Gold, erect Amidst his circling Spires, that on the grass Floted redundant: pleasing was his shape, And lovely, never since of Serpent kind Lovelier, not those that in Illyria chang'd Hermione and Cadmus, or the God In Epidaurus; nor to which transformd Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline was seen, Hee with Olympias, this with her who bore Scipio the highth of Rome.   With tract oblique At first, as one who sought access, but feard To interrupt, side-long he works his way. As when a Ship by skilful Stearsman wrought Nigh Rivers mouth or Foreland, where the Wind Veres oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her Saile; So varied hee, and of his tortuous Traine Curld many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, To lure her Eye; shee busied heard the sound Of rusling Leaves, but minded not, as us'd To such disport before her through the Field, From every Beast, more duteous at her call, Then at Circean call the Herd disguis'd. Hee boulder now, uncall'd before her stood; But as in gaze admiring: Oft he bowd His turret Crest, and sleek enamel'd Neck, Fawning, and lick'd the ground whereon she trod. His gentle dumb expression turnd at length The Eye of Eve to mark his play; he glad Of her attention gaind, with Serpent Tongue Organic, or impulse of vocal Air, His fraudulent temptation thus began. Wonder not, sovran Mistress, if perhaps Thou canst, who art sole Wonder, much less arm Thy looks, the Heav'n of mildness, with disdain, Displeas'd that I approach thee thus, and gaze Insatiate, I thus single, nor have feard Thy awful brow, more awful thus retir'd. Fairest resemblance of thy Maker faire, Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine By gift, and thy Celestial Beautie adore With ravishment beheld, there best beheld Where universally admir'd; but here In this enclosure wild, these Beasts among, Beholders rude, and shallow to discerne Half what in thee is fair, one man except, Who sees thee? (and what is one?) who shouldst be seen A Goddess among Gods, ador'd and serv'd By Angels numberless, thy daily Train. So gloz'd the Tempter, and his Proem tun'd; Into the Heart of Eve his words made way, Though at the voice much marveling; at length Not unamaz'd she thus in answer spake. What may this mean?   Language of Man pronounc't By Tongue of Brute, and human sense exprest? The first at lest of these I thought deni'd To Beasts, whom God on thir Creation-Day Created mute to all articulat sound; The latter I demurre, for in thir looks Much reason, and in thir actions oft appeers. Thee, Serpent, suttlest beast of all the field I knew, but not with human voice endu'd; 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? Say, for such wonder claims attention due. To whom the guileful Tempter thus reply'd. Empress of this fair World, resplendent Eve, Easie to mee it is to tell thee all What thou commandst, and right thou shouldst be obeyd: I was at first as other Beasts that graze 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 roaving the field, I chanc'd A goodly Tree farr distant to behold Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixt, Ruddie and Gold: I nearer drew to gaze; When from the boughes a savorie odour blow'n, Grateful to appetite, more pleas'd my sense Then smell of sweetest Fenel or the Teats Of Ewe or Goat dropping with Milk at Eevn, Unsuckt of Lamb or Kid, that tend thir play. To satisfie the sharp desire I had Of tasting those fair Apples, I resolv'd Not to deferr; hunger and thirst at once, Powerful perswaders, quick'nd at the scent Of that alluring fruit, urg'd me so keene. About the mossie Trunk I wound me soon, For high from ground the branches would require Thy utmost reach or Adams: Round the Tree All other Beasts that saw, with like desire Longing and envying stood, but could not reach. Amid the Tree now got, where plenty hung Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill I spar'd not, for such pleasure till that hour At Feed or Fountain never had I found. Sated at length, ere long I might perceave Strange alteration in me, to degree Of Reason in my inward Powers, and Speech Wanted not long, though to this shape retain'd. Thenceforth to Speculations high or deep I turnd my thoughts, and with capacious mind Considerd all things visible in Heav'n, Or Earth, or Middle, all things fair and good; But all that fair and good in thy Divine Semblance, and in thy Beauties heav'nly Ray United I beheld; no Fair to thine Equivalent or second, which compel'd Mee thus, though importune perhaps, to come And gaze, and worship thee of right declar'd Sovran of Creatures, universal Dame. So talk'd the spirited sly Snake; and Eve Yet more amaz'd unwarie thus reply'd. Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt The vertue of that Fruit, in thee first prov'd: But say, where grows the Tree, from hence how far? For many are the Trees of God that grow In Paradise, and various, yet unknown To us, in such aboundance lies our choice, As leaves a greater store of Fruit untoucht, Still hanging incorruptible, till men Grow up to thir provision, and more hands Help to disburden Nature of her Bearth. To whom the wilie Adder, blithe and glad. Empress, the way is readie, and not long, Beyond a row of Myrtles, on a Flat, Fast by a Fountain, one small Thicket past Of blowing Myrrh and Balme; if thou accept My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon. Lead then, said Eve.   Hee leading swiftly rowld In tangles, and made intricate seem strait, To mischief swift.   Hope elevates, and joy Bright'ns his Crest, as when a wandring Fire, Compact of unctuous vapor, which the Night Condenses, and the cold invirons round, Kindl'd through agitation to a Flame, Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends Hovering and blazing with delusive Light, Misleads th' amaz'd Night-wanderer from his way To Boggs and Mires, and oft through Pond or Poole, There swallow'd up and lost, from succour farr. So glister'd the dire Snake, and into fraud Led Eve our credulous Mother, to the Tree Of prohibition, root of all our woe; Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake. Serpent, we might have spar'd our coming hither, Fruitless to mee, though Fruit be here to excess, The credit of whose vertue rest with thee, Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects. But of this Tree we may not taste nor touch; God so commanded, and left that Command Sole Daughter of his voice; the rest, we live Law to our selves, our Reason is our Law. To whom the Tempter guilefully repli'd. Indeed? hath God then said that of the Fruit Of all these Garden Trees ye shall not eate, Yet Lords declar'd of all in Earth or Aire? To whom thus Eve yet sinless. Of the Fruit Of each Tree in the Garden we may eate, But of the Fruit of this fair Tree amidst The Garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eate Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, least ye die. She scarse had said, though brief, when now more bold The Tempter, but with shew of Zeale and Love To Man, and indignation at his wrong, New part puts on, and as to passion mov'd, Fluctuats disturbd, yet comely and in act Rais'd, as of som great matter to begin. As when of old som Orator renound In Athens or free Rome, where Eloquence Flourishd, since mute, to som great cause addrest, Stood in himself collected, while each part, Motion, each act won audience ere the tongue, Somtimes in highth began, as no delay Of Preface brooking through his Zeal of Right. So standing, moving, or to highth upgrown The Tempter all impassiond thus began. O Sacred, Wise, and Wisdom-giving Plant, Mother of Science, Now I feel thy Power Within me cleere, not onely to discerne Things in thir Causes, but to trace the wayes Of highest Agents, deemd however wise. Queen of this Universe, doe not believe Those rigid threats of Death; ye shall not Die: How should ye? by the Fruit? it gives you Life To Knowledge? By the Threatner, look on mee, Mee who have touch'd and tasted, yet both live, And life more perfet have attaind then Fate Meant mee, by ventring higher then my Lot. Shall that be shut to Man, which to the Beast Is open? or will God incense his ire For such a petty Trespass, and not praise Rather your dauntless vertue, whom the pain Of Death denounc't, whatever thing Death be, Deterrd not from atchieving what might leade To happier life, knowledge of Good and Evil; Of good, how just? of evil, if what is evil Be real, why not known, since easier shunnd? God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just; Not just, not God; not feard then, nor obeyd: Your feare it self of Death removes the feare. 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 Ye Eate thereof, your Eyes that seem so cleere, Yet are but dim, shall perfetly be then Op'nd and cleerd, and ye shall be as Gods, Knowing both Good and Evil as they know. That ye should be as Gods, since I as Man, Internal Man, is but proportion meet, I of brute human, yee of human Gods. So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off Human, to put on Gods, death to be wisht, Though threat'nd, which no worse then this can bring. And what are Gods that Man may not become As they, participating God-like food? The Gods are first, and that advantage use On our belief, that all from them proceeds; I question it, for this fair Earth I see, Warm'd by the Sun, producing every kind, Them nothing: If they all things, who enclos'd Knowledge of Good and Evil in this Tree, That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies Th' offence, that Man should thus attain to know? What can your knowledge hurt him, or this Tree Impart against his will if all be his? Or is it envie, and can envie dwell In heav'nly breasts? these, these and many more Causes import your need of this fair Fruit. Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste. He ended, and his words replete with guile Into her heart too easie entrance won: Fixt on the Fruit she gaz'd, which to behold Might tempt alone, and in her ears the sound Yet rung of his perswasive words, impregn'd With Reason, to her seeming, and with Truth; Mean while the hour of Noon drew on, and wak'd An eager appetite, rais'd by the smell So savorie of that Fruit, which with desire, Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, Sollicited her longing eye; yet first Pausing a while, thus to her self she mus'd. Great are thy Vertues, doubtless, best of Fruits, Though kept from Man, and worthy to be admir'd, 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 hee also who forbids thy use, Conceales 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 inferrs the good By thee communicated, and our want: For good unknown, sure is not had, or had And yet unknown, is as not had at all. In plain then, what forbids he but to know, Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise? Such prohibitions binde not.   But if Death Bind us with after-bands, what profits then Our inward freedom?   In the day we eate Of this fair Fruit, our doom is, we shall die. How dies the Serpent? hee hath eat'n and lives, And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns, Irrational till then.   For us alone Was death invented? or to us deni'd This intellectual food, for beasts reserv'd? For Beasts it seems: yet that one Beast which first Hath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy The good befall'n him, Author unsuspect, Friendly to man, farr from deceit or guile. What fear I then, rather what know to feare Under this ignorance of good and Evil, Of God or Death, of Law or Penaltie? Here grows the Cure of all, this Fruit Divine, Fair to the Eye, inviting to the Taste, Of vertue to make wise: what hinders then To reach, and feed at once both Bodie and Mind? So saying, her rash hand in evil hour Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck'd, she eat: Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe, That all was lost.   Back to the Thicket slunk The guiltie Serpent, and well might, for Eve Intent now wholly on her taste, naught else Regarded, such delight till then, as seemd, In Fruit she never tasted, whether true Or fansied so, through expectation high Of knowledg, nor was God-head from her thought. Greedily she ingorg'd without restraint, And knew not eating Death: Satiate at length, And hight'nd as with Wine, jocond and boon, Thus to her self she pleasingly began. O Sovran, vertuous, precious of all Trees In Paradise, of operation blest To Sapience, hitherto obscur'd, infam'd, And thy fair Fruit let hang, as to no end Created; but henceforth my early care, Not without Song, each Morning, and due praise Shall tend thee, and the fertil 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 envie what they cannot give; For had the gift bin theirs, it had not here Thus grown.   Experience, next to thee I owe, Best guide; not following thee, I had remaind In ignorance, thou op'nst Wisdoms way, And giv'st access, though secret she retire. And I perhaps am secret; Heav'n is high, High and remote to see from thence distinct Each thing on Earth; and other care perhaps May have diverted from continual watch Our great Forbidder, safe with all his Spies About him.   But to Adam in what sort Shall I appeer? shall I to him make known As yet my change, and give him to partake Full happiness with mee, or rather not, But keep the odds of Knowledge in my power Without Copartner? so to add what wants In Femal Sex, the more to draw his Love, And render me more equal, and perhaps, A thing not undesireable, somtime Superior; for inferior who is free? This may be well: but what if God have seen, And Death ensue? then I shall be no more, And Adam wedded to another Eve, Shall live with her enjoying, I extinct; A death to think.   Confirm'd then I resolve; 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 turnd, But first low Reverence don, as to the power That dwelt within, whose presence had infus'd Into the plant sciential sap, deriv'd From Nectar, drink of Gods.Adam the while Waiting desirous her return, had wove Of choicest Flours a Garland to adorne Her Tresses, and her rural labours crown, As Reapers oft are wont thir Harvest Queen. Great joy he promis'd to his thoughts, and new Solace in her return, so long delay'd; Yet oft his heart, divine of somthing ill, Misgave him; hee the faultring 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, Scarse from the Tree returning; in her hand A bough of fairest fruit that downie smil'd, New gatherd, and ambrosial smell diffus'd. To him she hasted, in her face excuse Came Prologue, and Apologie to prompt, Which with bland words at will she thus addrest. Hast thou not wonderd,Adam, at my stay? Thee I have misst, and thought it long, depriv'd Thy presence, agonie of love till now Not felt, nor shall be twice, for never more Mean I to trie, what rash untri'd I sought, The pain of absence from thy sight.   But strange Hath bin the cause, and wonderful to heare: This Tree is not as we are told, a Tree Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown Op'ning the way, but of Divine effect To open Eyes, and make them Gods who taste; And hath bin tasted such: the Serpent wise, Or not restraind as wee, or not obeying, Hath eat'n of the fruit, and is become, Not dead, as we are threatn'd, but thenceforth Endu'd with human voice and human sense, Reasoning to admiration, and with mee Perswasively hath so prevaild, that I Have also tasted, and have also found Th' effects to correspond, opener mine Eyes, Dimm 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, unshar'd with thee, and odious soon. Thou therefore also taste, that equal Lot May joyne us, equal joy, as equal Love; Least thou not tasting, different degree Disjoyne us, and I then too late renounce Deitie for thee, when Fate will not permit. Thus Eve with Countnance blithe her storie told; But in her Cheek distemper flushing glowd. On th' other side,Adam, soon as he heard The fatal Trespass don by Eve, amaz'd, Astonied stood and Blank, while horror chill Ran through his veins, and all his joynts relax'd; From his slack hand the Garland wreath'd for Eve Down drop'd, and all the faded Roses shed: Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length First to himself he inward silence broke. O fairest of Creation, last and best Of all Gods works, Creature in whom excell'd Whatever can to sight or thought be formd, Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, Defac't, deflourd, and now to Death devote? Rather how hast thou yeelded to transgress The strict forbiddance, how to violate The sacred Fruit forbidd'n! som cursed fraud Of Enemie hath beguil'd thee, yet unknown, And mee with thee hath ruind, for with thee Certain my resolution is to Die; How can I live without thee, how forgoe Thy sweet Converse and Love so dearly joyn'd, To live again in these wilde Woods forlorn? Should God create another Eve, and I Another Rib afford, yet loss of thee Would never from my heart; no no, I feel The Link of Nature draw me: Flesh of Flesh, Bone of my Bone thou art, and from thy State Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe. So having said, as one from sad dismay Recomforted, and after thoughts disturbd Submitting to what seemd remediless, Thus in calm mood his Words to Eve he turnd. Bold deed thou hast presum'd, adventrous Eve, And peril great provok't, who thus hath dar'd Had it been onely coveting to Eye That sacred Fruit, sacred to abstinence, Much more to taste it under banne to touch. But past who can recall, or don undoe? Not God Omnipotent, nor Fate, yet so Perhaps thou shalt not Die, perhaps the Fact Is not so hainous now, foretasted Fruit, Profan'd first by the Serpent, by him first Made common and unhallowd ere our taste; Nor yet on him found deadly, he yet lives, Lives, as thou saidst, and gaines to live as Man Higher degree of Life, inducement strong To us, as likely tasting to attaine Proportional ascent, which cannot be But to be Gods, or Angels Demi-gods. Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, Though threatning, will in earnest so destroy Us his prime Creatures, dignifi'd so high, Set over all his Works, which in our Fall, For us created, needs with us must faile, Dependent made; so God shall uncreate, Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour loose, Not well conceav'd of God, who though his Power Creation could repeate, yet would be loath Us to abolish, least the Adversary Triumph and say; Fickle their State whom God Most Favors, who can please him long; Mee first He ruind, now Mankind; whom will he next? Matter of scorne, not to be given the Foe, However I with thee have fixt my Lot, Certain to undergoe like doom, if Death Consort with thee, Death is to mee as Life; So forcible within my beart I feel The Bond of Nature draw me to my owne, My own in thee, for what thou art is mine; Our State cannot be severd, we are one, One Flesh; to loose thee were to loose my self. So Adam, and thus Eve to him repli'd. O glorious trial of exceeding Love, Illustrious evidence, example high! Ingaging me to emulate, but short Of thy perfection, how shall I attaine, Adam, from whose deare side I boast me sprung, And gladly of our Union heare thee speak, One Heart, one Soul in both; whereof good prooff This day affords, declaring thee resolvd, Rather then Death or aught then Death more dread Shall separate us, linkt in Love so deare, To undergoe with mee one Guilt, one Crime, If any be, of tasting this fair Fruit, Whose vertue, for of good still good proceeds, Direct, or by occasion hath presented This happie trial of thy Love, which else So eminently never had bin known. Were it I thought Death menac't would ensue This my attempt, I would sustain alone The worst, and not perswade thee, rather die Deserted, then oblige thee with a fact Pernicious to thy Peace, chiefly assur'd Remarkably so late of thy so true, So faithful Love unequald; but I feel Farr otherwise th' event, not Death, but Life Augmented, op'nd Eyes, new Hopes, new Joyes, Taste so Divine, that what of sweet before Hath toucht my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh. On my experience,Adam, freely taste, And fear of Death deliver to the Windes. So saying, she embrac'd him, and for joy Tenderly wept, much won that he his Love Had so enobl'd, as of choice to incurr Divine displeasure for her sake, or Death. In recompence (for such compliance bad Such recompence best merits) from the bough She gave him of that fair enticing Fruit With liberal hand: he scrupl'd not to eat Against his better knowledge, not deceav'd, But fondly overcome with Femal charm. Earth trembl'd from her entrails, as again In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan, Skie lowr'd and muttering Thunder, som sad drops Wept at compleating of the mortal Sin Original; while Adam took no thought, Eating his fill, nor Eve to iterate Her former trespass fear'd, the more to soothe Him with her lov'd societie, that now As with new Wine intoxicated both They swim in mirth, and fansie that they feel Divinitie within them breeding wings Wherewith to scorne the Earth: but that false Fruit Farr other operation first displaid, Carnal desire enflaming, hee on Eve Began to cast lascivious Eyes, she him As wantonly repaid; in Lust they burne: 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 Yeild 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 forbidden, it might be wish'd, For this one Tree had bin forbidden ten. But come, so well refresh't, now let us play, As meet is, after such delicious Fare; For never did thy Beautie since the day I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorn'd With all perfections, so enflame my sense With ardor to enjoy thee, fairer now Then ever, bountie of this vertuous Tree. So said he, and forbore not glance or toy Of amorous intent, well understood Of Eve, whose Eye darted contagious Fire. Her hand he seis'd, and to a shadie bank, Thick overhead with verdant roof imbowr'd He led her nothing loath; Flours were the Couch, Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel, And Hyacinth, Earths freshest softest lap. There they thir fill of Love and Loves disport Took largely, of thir mutual guilt the Seale, The solace of thir sin, till dewie sleep Oppress'd them, wearied with thir amorous play. Soon as the force of that fallacious Fruit, That with exhilerating vapour bland About thir spirits had plaid, and inmost powers Made erre, was now exhal'd, and grosser sleep Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams Encumberd, now had left them, up they rose As from unrest, and each the other viewing, Soon found thir Eyes how op'nd, and thir minds How dark'nd; innocence, that as a veile Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gon, Just confidence, and native righteousness And honour from about them, naked left To guiltie shame hee cover'd, but his Robe Uncover'd more, so rose the Danite strong Herculean Samson from the Harlot-lap Of Philistean Dalilah, and wak'd Shorn of his strength, They destitute and bare Of all thir vertue: silent, and in face Confounded long they sate, as struck'n mute, Till Adam, though not less then Eve abash't, At length gave utterance to these words constraind. Eve, in evil hour thou didst give eare To that false Worm, of whomsoever taught To counterfet Mans voice, true in our Fall, False in our promis'd Rising; since our Eyes Op'nd we find indeed, and find we know Both Good and Evil, Good lost, and Evil got, Bad Fruit of Knowledge, if this be to know, Which leaves us naked thus, of Honour void, Of Innocence, of Faith, of Puritie, Our wonted Ornaments now soild and staind, And in our Faces evident the signes Of foul concupiscence; whence evil store; Even shame, the last of evils; of the first Be sure then.   How shall I behold the face Henceforth of God or Angel, earst with joy And rapture so oft beheld? those heav'nly shapes Will dazle now this earthly, with thir blaze Insufferably bright.   O might I here In solitude live savage, in some glade Obscur'd, where highest Woods impenetrable To Starr or Sun-light, spread thir umbrage broad And brown as Evening: Cover me ye Pines, Ye Cedars, with innumerable boughs Hide me, where I may never see them more. But let us now, as in bad plight, devise What best may from the present serve to hide The Parts of each for other, that seem most To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen, Some Tree whose broad smooth Leaves together sowd, And girded on our loyns, may cover round Those middle parts, that this new commer, Shame, There sit not, and reproach us as unclean. So counsel'd hee, and both together went Into the thickest Wood, there soon they chose The Figtree, not that kind for Fruit renown'd, But such as at this day to Indians known In Malabar or Decan spreds her Armes Braunching so broad and long, that in the ground The bended Twigs take root, and Daughters grow About the Mother Tree, a Pillard shade High overarch't, and echoing Walks between; There oft the Indian Herdsman shunning heate Shelters in coole, and tends his pasturing Herds At Loopholes cut through thickest shade: Those Leaves They gatherd, broad as Amazonian Targe, And with what skill they had, together sowd, To gird thir waste, vain Covering if to hide Thir guilt and dreaded shame; O how unlike To that first naked Glorie.   Such of late Columbus found th'American so girt With featherd Cincture, naked else and wilde Among the Trees on Iles and woodie Shores. Thus fenc't, and as they thought, thir shame in part Coverd, but not at rest or ease of Mind, They sate them down to weep, nor onely Teares Raind at thir Eyes, but high Winds worse within Began to rise, high Passions, Anger, Hate, Mistrust, Suspicion, Discord, and shook sore Thir inward State of Mind, calm Region once And full of Peace, now tost and turbulent: For Understanding rul'd not, and the Will Heard not her lore, both in subjection now To sensual Appetite, who from beneathe Usurping over sovran Reason claimd Superior sway: from thus distemperd brest, Adam, estrang'd in look and alterd stile, Speech intermitted thus to Eve renewd. Would thou hadst heark'nd to my words, and stai'd With me, as I besought thee, when that strange Desire of wandring this unhappie Morn, I know not whence possessd thee; we had then Remaind still happie, not as now, despoild Of all our good, sham'd, naked, miserable. Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve The Faith they owe; when earnestly they seek Such proof, conclude, they then begin to faile. To whom soon mov'd with touch of blame thus Eve. What words have past thy Lips,Adam severe, Imput'st thou that to my default, or will Of wandring, as thou call'st it, which who knows But might as ill have happ'nd thou being by, Or to thy self perhaps: hadst thou been there, Or here th' attempt, thou couldst not have discernd Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake; No ground of enmitie between us known, Why hee should mean me ill, or seek to harme, Was I to have never parted from thy side? As good have grown there still a liveless Rib. Being as I am, why didst not thou the Head Command me absolutely not to go, Going into such danger as thou saidst? Too facil then thou didst not much gainsay, Nay didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss. Hadst thou bin firm and fixt in thy dissent, Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with mee. To whom then first incenst Adam repli'd, Is this the Love, is this the recompence Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve, exprest Immutable when thou wert lost, not I, Who might have liv'd and joyd immortal bliss, Yet willingly chose rather Death with thee: And am I now upbraided, as the cause Of thy transgressing? not enough severe, It seems, in thy restraint: what could I more? I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold The danger, and the lurking Enemie That lay in wait; beyond this had bin force, And force upon free will hath here no place. But confidence then bore thee on, secure Either to meet no danger, or to finde Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps I also err'd in overmuch admiring What seemd in thee so perfet, that I thought No evil durst attempt thee, but I rue That errour 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 her self, if evil thence ensue, Shee first his weak indulgence will accuse. Thus they in mutual accusation spent The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning, And of thir vain contest appeer'd no end.

I Who e're while the happy Garden sung, By one mans disobedience lost, now sing Recover'd Paradise to all mankind, By one mans firm obedience fully tri'd Through all temptation, and the Tempter foil'd In all his wiles, defeated and repuls't, And Eden rais'd in the wast Wilderness. Thou Spirit who ledst this glorious Eremite Into the Desert, his Victorious Field Against the Spiritual Foe, and broughtst him thence By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire, As thou art wont, my prompted Song else mute, And bear through highth or depth of natures bounds With prosperous wing full summ'd to tell of deeds Above Heroic, though in secret done, And unrecorded left through many an Age, Worthy t'have not remain'd so long unsung. Now had the great Proclaimer with a voice More awful then the sound of Trumpet, cri'd Repentance, and Heavens Kingdom nigh at hand To all Baptiz'd: to his great Baptism flock'd With aw the Regions round, and with them came From Nazareth the Son of Joseph deem'd To the flood Jordan, came as then obscure, Unmarkt, unknown; but him the Baptist soon Descri'd, divinely warn'd, and witness bore As to his worthier, and would have resign'd To him his Heavenly Office, nor was long His witness unconfirm'd: on him baptiz'd Heaven open'd, and in likeness of a Dove The Spirit descended, while the Fathers voice From Heav'n pronounc'd him his beloved Son. That heard the Adversary, who roving still About the world, at that assembly fam'd Would not be last, and with the voice divine Nigh Thunder-struck, th' exalted man, to whom Such high attest was giv'n, a while survey'd With wonder, then with envy fraught and rage Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air To Councel summons all his mighty Peers, Within thick Clouds and dark ten-fold involv'd, A gloomy Consistory; and them amidst With looks agast and sad he thus bespake. O ancient Powers of Air and this wide world, For much more willingly I mention Air, This our old Conquest, then remember Hell Our hated habitation; well ye know How many Ages, as the years of men, This Universe we have possest, and rul'd In manner at our will th' affairs of Earth, Since Adam and his facil consort Eve Lost Paradise deceiv'd by me, though since With dread attending when that fatal wound Shall be inflicted by the Seed of Eve Upon my head, long the decrees of Heav'n Delay, for longest time to him is short; And now too soon for us the circling hours This dreaded time have compast, wherein we Must bide the stroak of that long threatn'd wound, At least if so we can, and by the head Broken be not intended all our power To be infring'd, our freedom and our being. In this fair Empire won of Earth and Air; For this ill news I bring, the Womans seed Destin'd to this, is late of woman born, His birth to our just fear gave no small cause, But his growth now to youths full flowr, displaying All vertue, grace and wisdom to atchieve Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear. Before him a great Prophet, to proclaim His coming, is sent Harbinger, who all Invites, and in the Consecrated stream Pretends to wash off sin, and fit them so Purified to receive him pure, or rather To do him honour as their King; all come, And he himself among them was baptiz'd, Not thence to be more pure, but to receive The testimony of Heaven, that who he is Thenceforth the Nations may not doubt; I saw The Prophet do him reverence, on him rising Out of the water, Heav'n above the Clouds Unfold her Crystal Dores, thence on his head A perfect Dove descend, what e're it meant, And out of Heav'n the Sov'raign voice I heard, This is my Son belov'd, in him am pleas'd. His Mother then is mortal, but his Sire, He who obtains the Monarchy of Heav'n, And what will he not do to advance his Son? His first-begot we know, and sore have felt, When his fierce thunder drove us to the deep; Who this is we must learn, for man he seems In all his lineaments, though in his face The glimpses of his Fathers glory shine. Ye see our danger on the utmost edge Of hazard, which admits no long debate, But must with something sudden be oppos'd, Not force, but well couch't fraud, well woven snares, E're in the head of Nations he appear Their King, their Leader, and Supream on Earth. I, when no other durst, sole undertook The dismal expedition to find out And ruine Adam, and the exploit perform'd Successfully; a calmer voyage now Will waft me; and the way found prosperous once Induces best to hope of like success. He ended, and his words impression left Of much amazement to th' infernal Crew, Distracted and surpriz'd with deep dismay At these sad tidings; but no time was then For long indulgence to their fears or grief: Unanimous they all commit the care And management of this main enterprize To him their great Dictator, whose attempt At first against mankind so well had thriv'd In Adam's overthrow, and led thir march From Hell's deep-vaulted Den to dwell in light, Regents and Potentates, and Kings, yea gods Of many a pleasant Realm and Province wide. So to the Coast of Jordan he directs His easie steps; girded with snaky wiles, Where he might likeliest find this new-declar'd, This man of men, attested Son of God, Temptation and all guile on him to try; So to subvert whom he suspected rais'd To end his Raign on Earth so long enjoy'd: But contrary unweeting he fulfill'd The purpos'd Counsel pre-ordain'd and fixt Of the most High, who in full frequence bright Of Angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake. Gabriel this day by proof thou shalt behold, Thou and all Angels conversant on Earth With man or mens affairs, how I begin To verifie that solemn message late, On which I sent thee to the Virgin pure In Galilee, that she should bear a Son Great in Renown, and call'd the Son of God; Then toldst 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're-shadow her: this man born and now up-grown, To shew him worthy of his birth divine And high prediction, henceforth I expose To Satan; let him tempt and now assay His utmost subtilty, because he boasts And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng Of his Apostasie; he might have learnt Less over-weening, since he fail'd in Job, Whose constant perseverance overcame Whate're his cruel malice could invent. He now shall know I can produce a man Of female Seed, far abler to resist All his sollicitations, and at length All his vast force, and drive him back to Hell, Winning by Conquest what the first man lost By fallacy surpriz'd.   But first I mean To exercise him in the Wilderness, There he shall first lay down the rudiments Of his great warfare, e're I send him forth To conquer Sin and Death the two grand foes, By Humiliation and strong Sufferance: His weakness shall o'recome Satanic strength And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh; That all the Angels and Ætherial Powers, They now, and men hereafter may discern, From what consummate vertue I have chose This perfect Man, by merit call'd my Son, To earn Salvation for the Sons of men. So spake the Eternal Father, and all Heaven Admiring stood a space, then into Hymns Burst forth, and in Celestial measures mov'd, Circling the Throne and Singing, while the hand Sung with the voice, and this the argument. Victory and Triumph to the Son of God Now entring his great duel, not of arms, But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles. The Father knows the Son; therefore secure Ventures his filial Vertue, though untri'd, Against whate're may tempt, whate're seduce, Allure, or terrifie, or undermine. Be frustrate all ye stratagems of Hell, And devilish machinations come to nought. So they in Heav'n their Odes and Vigils tun'd: Mean while the Son of God, who yet some days Lodg'd in Bethabara where John baptiz'd, Musing and much revolving in his brest, How best the mighty work he might begin Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first Publish his God-like office now mature, One day forth walk'd alone, the Spirit leading; And his deep thoughts, the better to converse With solitude, till far from track of men, Thought following thought, and step by step led on, He entred now the bordering Desert wild, And with dark shades and rocks environ'd round, His holy Meditations thus persu'd. O what a multitude of thoughts at once Awakn'd in me swarm, while I consider What from within I feel my self, and hear What from without comes often to my ears, Ill sorting with my present state compar'd. When I was yet a child, no childish play To me was pleasing, all my mind was set Serious to learn and know, and thence to do What might be publick good; my self I thought Born to that end, born to promote all truth, All righteous things: therefore above my years, The Law of God I read, and found it sweet, Made it my whole delight, and in it grew To such perfection, that e're yet my age Had measur'd twice six years, at our great Feast I went into the Temple, there to hear The Teachers of our Law, and to propose What might improve my knowledge or their own; And was admir'd by all, yet this not all To which my Spirit aspir'd, victorious deeds Flam'd in my heart, heroic acts, one while To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke, Then to subdue and quell o're all the earth Brute violence and proud Tyrannick pow'r, Till truth were freed, and equity restor'd: Yet held it more humane, more heavenly first By winning words to conquer willing hearts, And make perswasion do the work of fear; At least to try, and teach the erring Soul Not wilfully mis-doing, but unware Misled; the stubborn only to destroy. These growing thoughts my Mother soon perceiving By words at times cast forth inly rejoyc'd, And said to me apart, high are thy thoughts O Son, but nourish them and let them soar To what highth sacred vertue and true worth Can raise them, though above example high; By matchless Deeds express thy matchless Sire. For know, thou art no Son of mortal man, Though men esteem thee low of Parentage, Thy Father is the Eternal King, who rules All Heaven and Earth, Angels and Sons of men, A messenger from God fore-told thy birth Conceiv'd in me a Virgin, he fore-told Thou shouldst be great and sit on David's Throne, And of thy Kingdom there should be no end. At thy Nativity a glorious Quire Of Angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung To Shepherds watching at their folds by night, And told them the Messiah now was born, Where they might see him, and to thee they came; Directed to the Manger where thou lais't, For in the Inn was left no better room: A Star, not seen before in Heaven appearing Guided the Wise Men thither from the East, To honour thee with Incense, Myrrh, and Gold, By whose bright course led on they found the place, Affirming it thy Star new grav'n in Heaven, By which they knew thee King of Israel born. Just Simeon and Prophetic Anna, warn'd By Vision, found thee in the Temple, and spake Before the Altar and the vested Priest, Like things of thee to all that present stood. This having heard, strait I again revolv'd The Law and Prophets, searching what was writ Concerning the Messiah, to our Scribes Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake I am; this chiefly, that my way must lie Through many a hard assay even to the death, E're I the promis'd Kingdom can attain, Or work Redemption for mankind, whose sins Full weight must be transferr'd upon my head. Yet neither thus disheartn'd or dismay'd, The time prefixt I waited, when behold The Baptist, (of whose birth I oft had heard, Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come Before Messiah and his way prepare. I as all others to his Baptism came, Which I believ'd was from above; but he Strait knew me, and with loudest voice proclaim'd Me him (for it was shew'n him so from Heaven) Me him whose Harbinger he was; and first Refus'd on me his Baptism to confer, As much his greater, and was hardly won; But as I rose out of the laving stream, Heaven open'd her eternal doors, from whence The Spirit descended on me like a Dove, And last the sum of all, my Father's voice, Audibly heard from Heav'n, pronounc'd me his, Me his beloved Son, in whom alone He was well pleas'd; by which I knew the time Now full, that I no more should live obscure, But openly begin, as best becomes The Authority which I deriv'd from Heaven. And now by some strong motion I am led Into this Wilderness, to what intent I learn not yet, perhaps I 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 A pathless Desert, dusk with horrid shades; The way he came not having mark'd, return Was difficult, by humane steps untrod; And he still on was led, but with such thoughts Accompanied of things past and to come Lodg'd in his breast, as well might recommend Such Solitude before choicest Society. Full forty days he pass'd, whether on hill Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night Under the covert of some ancient Oak, Or Cedar, to defend him from the dew, Or harbour'd in one Cave, is not reveal'd; Nor tasted humane food, nor hunger felt Till those days ended, hunger'd then at last Among wild Beasts: they at his sight grew mild, Nor sleeping him nor waking harm'd, his walk The fiery Serpent fled, and noxious Worm, The Lion and fierce Tiger glar'd aloof. But now an aged man in Rural weeds, Following, as seem'd, the quest of some stray Ewe, Or wither'd sticks to gather; which might serve Against a Winters day when winds blow keen, To warm him wet return'd from field at Eve, He saw approach, who first with curious eye Perus'd him, then with words thus utt'red spake. Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this place So far from path or road of men, who pass In Troop or Caravan, for single none Durst ever, who return'd, and dropt not here His Carcass, pin'd with hunger and with droughth? 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 Who dwell this wild, constrain'd by want, come forth To Town or Village nigh (nighest is far) Where ought we hear, and curious are to hear, What happ'ns 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. 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 inur'd More then the Camel, and to drink go far, Men to much misery and hardship born; But if thou be the Son of God, Command That out of these hard stones be made thee bread; So shalt thou save thy self and us relieve With Food, whereof we wretched seldom taste. He ended, and the Son of God reply'd. Think'st thou such force in Bread? is it not written (For I discern thee other then thou seem'st) Man lives not by Bread only, but each Word Proceeding from the mouth of God; who fed Our Fathers here with Manna; in the Mount Moses was forty days, nor eat nor drank, And forty days Eliah without food Wandred this barren waste, the same I now. Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust, Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art? Whom thus answer'd th' Arch Fiend now undisguis'd. 'Tis true, I am that Spirit unfortunate, Who leagu'd with millions more in rash revolt Kept not my happy Station, but was driv'n With them from bliss to the bottomless deep, Yet to that hideous place not so confin'd By rigour unconniving, but that oft Leaving my dolorous Prison I enjoy Large liberty to round this Globe of Earth, Or range in th' Air, nor from the 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; And when to all his Angels he propos'd To draw the proud King Ahab into fraud That he might fall in Ramoth, they demuring, I undertook that office, and the tongues Of all his flattering Prophets glibb'd with lyes To his destruction, as I had in charge. For what he bids I do; though I have lost Much lustre of my native brightness, lost To be belov'd of God, I have not lost To love, at least contemplate and admire What I see excellent in good, or fair, Or vertuous, I should so have lost all sense. What can be then less in me then desire To see thee and approach thee, whom I know Declar'd the Son of God, to hear attent Thy wisdom, and behold thy God-like deeds? Men generally think me much a foe To all mankind: why should I? they to me Never did wrong or violence, by them I lost not what I lost, rather by them I gain'd what I have gain'd, and with them dwell Copartner in these Regions of the World, If not disposer; lend them oft my aid, Oft my advice by presages and signs, And answers, oracles, portents and dreams, Whereby they may direct their future life. Envy they say excites me, thus to gain Companions of my misery and wo. At first it may be; but long since with wo Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof, That fellowship in pain divides not smart, Nor lightens aught each mans peculiar load. Small consolation then, were Man adjoyn'd: This wounds me most (what can it less) that Man, Man fall'n shall be restor'd, I never more. To whom our Saviour sternly thus reply'd. Deservedly thou griev'st, compos'd of lyes From the beginning, and in lies wilt end; Who boast'st release from Hell, and leave to come Into the Heav'n of Heavens; thou com'st indeed, As a poor miserable captive thrall, Comes to the place where he before had sat Among the Prime in Splendour, now depos'd, Ejected, emptyed, gaz'd, unpityed, shun'd, A spectacle of ruin or of scorn To all the Host of Heaven; the happy place Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy, Rather inflames thy torment, representing Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable, So never more in Hell then when in Heaven. But thou art serviceable to Heaven's King. Wilt thou impute to obedience what thy fear Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites? What but thy malice mov'd thee to misdeem Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him With all inflictions, but his patience won? The other service was thy chosen task, To be a lyer in four hundred mouths; For lying is thy sustenance, thy food. Yet thou pretend'st to truth; all Oracles By thee are giv'n, and what confest more true Among the Nations? that hath been thy craft, By mixing somewhat true to vent more lyes. But what have been thy answers, what but dark Ambiguous and with double sense deluding, Which they who ask'd have seldom understood, And not well understood as good not known? Who ever by consulting at thy shrine Return'd the wiser, or the more instruct To flye or follow what concern'd him most, And run not sooner to his fatal snare? For God hath justly giv'n the Nations up To thy Delusions; justly, since they fell Idolatrous, but when his purpose is Among them to declare his Providence To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy 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 To thy Adorers; thou with trembling fear, Or like a Fawning Parasite obey'st; Then to thy self ascrib'st the truth fore-told. But this thy glory shall be soon retrench'd; No more shalt thou by oracling abuse The Gentiles; henceforth Oracles are ceast, And thou no more with Pomp and Sacrifice Shalt be enquir'd at Delphos or elsewhere, At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute. God hath now sent his living Oracle Into the World, to teach his final will, 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, Though inly stung with anger and disdain, Dissembl'd, and this Answer smooth return'd. Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke, And urg'd me hard with doings, which not will But misery hath rested from me; where Easily canst thou find one miserable, And not inforc'd oft-times to part from truth; If it may stand him more in stead to lye, Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure? But thou art plac't above me, thou art Lord; From thee I can and must submiss endure Check or reproof, and glad to scape so quit. Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk, Smooth on the tongue discourst, pleasing to th' ear, And tuneable as Silvan Pipe or Song; What wonder then if I delight to hear Her dictates from thy mouth? most men admire Vertue, 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. Thy Father, who is holy, wise and pure, Suffers the Hypocrite or Atheous Priest To tread his Sacred Courts, and minister About his Altar, handling holy things, Praying or vowing, and vouchsaf'd his voice To Balaam Reprobate, a Prophet yet Inspir'd; 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 find'st Permission from above; thou canst not more. He added not; and Satan bowing low His gray dissimulation, disappear'd Into thin Air diffus'd: for now began Night with her sullen wing to double-shade The Desert, Fowls in thir clay nests were couch't; And now wild Beasts came forth the woods to roam.

MEan while the new-baptiz'd, who yet remain'd At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen Him whom they heard so late expresly call'd Jesus Messiah Son of God declar'd, And on that high Authority had believ'd, And with him talkt, and with him lodg'd, I mean Andrew and Simon, famous after known With others though in Holy Writ not nam'd, Now missing him thir joy so lately found, So lately found, and so abruptly gone, Began to doubt, and doubted many days, And as the days increas'd, increas'd thir doubt: Sometimes they thought he might be only shewn, And for a time caught up to God, as once Moses was in the Mount, and missing long; And the great Thisbite who on fiery wheels Rode up to Heaven, yet once again to come. Therefore as those young Prophets then with care Sought lost Eliah, so in each place these Nigh to Bethabara; in Jerico The City of Palms,Ænon, and Salem Old, Machærus and each Town or City wall'd On this side the broad lake Genezaret, Or in Perea, but return'd in vain. Then on the bank of Jordan, by a Creek: Where winds with Reeds, and Osiers whisp'ring play Plain Fishermen, no greater men them call, Close in a Cottage low together got Thir unexpected loss and plaints out breath'd. Alas, from what high hope to what relapse Unlook'd for are we fall'n, our eyes beheld Messiah certainly now come, so long Expected of our Fathers; we have heard His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth, Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand, The Kingdom shall to Israel be restor'd: Thus we rejoyc'd, but soon our joy is turn'd Into perplexity and new amaze: For whither is he gone, what accident Hath rapt him from us? will he now retire After appearance, and again prolong Our expectation?   God of Israel, Send thy Messiah forth, the time is come; Behold the Kings of the Earth how they oppress Thy chosen, to what highth thir pow'r unjust They have exalted, and behind them cast All fear of thee, arise and vindicate Thy Glory, free thy people from thir yoke, But let us wait; thus far he hath perform'd, Sent his Anointed, and to us reveal'd him, By his great Prophet, pointed at and shown, In publick, and with him we have convers'd; Let us be glad of this, and all our fears Lay on his Providence; he will not fail Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall, Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence, Soon we shall see our hope, our joy return. Thus they out of their plaints new hope resume To find whom at the first they found unsought: But to his Mother Mary, when she saw Others return'd from Baptism, not her Son, Nor left at Jordan, tydings of him none; Within her brest, though calm; her brest though pure, Motherly cares and fears got head, and rais'd Some troubl'd thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad. O what avails me now that honour high To have conceiv'd of God, or that salute Hale highly favour'd, among women blest; While I to sorrows am no less advanc't, And fears as eminent, above the lot Of other women, by the birth I bore, In such a season born when scarce a Shed Could be obtain'd to shelter him or me From the bleak air; a Stable was our warmth, A Manger his, yet soon enforc't to flye 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 return'd, in Nazareth Hath been our dwelling many years, his life Private, unactive, calm, contemplative, Little suspicious to any King; but now Full grown to Man, acknowledg'd, as I hear, By John the Baptist, and in publick shown, Son own'd from Heaven by his Father's voice; I look't for some great change; to Honour? no, But trouble, as old Simeon plain fore-told, That to the fall and rising he should be Of many in Israel, and to a sign Spoken against, that through my very Soul A sword shall pierce, this is my favour'd lot, My Exaltation to Afflictions high; Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blest; I will not argue that, nor will repine. But where delays he now? some great intent Conceals him: when twelve years he scarce had seen, I lost him, but so found, as well I saw He could not lose himself; but went about His Father's business; what he meant I mus'd, Since understand; much more his absence now Thus long to some great purpose he obscures. But I to wait with patience am inur'd; My heart hath been a store-house long of things And sayings laid up, portending strange events. Thus Mary pondering oft, and oft to mind Recalling what remarkably had pass'd Since first her Salutation heard, with thoughts Meekly compos'd awaited the fulfilling: The while her Son tracing the Desert wild, Sole but with holiest Meditations fed, Into himself descended, and at once All his great work to come before him set; How to begin, how to accomplish best His end of being on Earth, and mission high: For Satan with slye preface to return Had left him vacant, and with speed was gon Up to the middle Region of thick Air, Where all his Potentates in Council sate; There without sign of boast, or sign of joy, Sollicitous and blank he thus began. Princes, Heavens antient Sons, Æthereal Thrones, Demonian Spirits now, from the Element Each of his reign allotted, rightlier call'd, Powers of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth beneath, So may we hold our place and these mild seats Without new trouble; such an Enemy Is ris'n to invade us, who no less Threat'ns then our expulsion down to Hell; I, as I undertook, and with the vote Consenting in full frequence was impowr'd, Have found him, view'd him, tasted him, but find Far other labour to be undergon Then when I dealt with Adam first of Men, Though Adam by his Wives allurement fell, However to this Man inferior far, If he be Man by Mothers side at least, With more then humane gifts from Heaven adorn'd, Perfections absolute, Graces divine, And amplitude of mind to greatest Deeds. Therefore I am return'd, lest confidence Of my success with Eve in Paradise Deceive ye to perswasion over-sure Of like succeeding here; I summon all Rather to be in readiness, with hand Or counsel to assist; lest I who erst Thought none my equal, now be over-match'd. So spake the old Serpent doubting, and from all With clamour was assur'd thir utmost aid At his command; when from amidst them rose Belial the dissolutest Spirit that fell, The sensuallest, and after Asmodai The fleshliest Incubus, and thus advis'd. Set women in his eye and in his walk, Among daughters of men the fairest found; Many are in each Region passing fair As the noon Skie; more like to Goddesses Then Mortal Creatures, graceful and discreet, Expert in amorous Arts, enchanting tongues Perswasive, Virgin majesty with mild And sweet allay'd, yet terrible to approach, Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw Hearts after them tangl'd in Amorous Nets. Such object hath the power to soft'n and tame Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow, Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, Draw out with credulous desire, and lead At will the manliest, resolutest brest, As the Magnetic hardest Iron draws. Women, when nothing else, beguil'd the heart Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, And made him bow to the Gods of his Wives. To whom quick answer Satan thus return'd. Belial, in much uneven scale thou weigh'st All others by thy self; because of old Thou thy self doat'st on womankind, admiring Thir shape, thir colour, and attractive grace, None are, thou think'st, but taken with such toys. Before the Flood thou with thy lusty Crew, False titl'd Sons of God, roaming the Earth Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, And coupl'd 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 mossie Fountain side, In Valley or Green Meadow to way-lay Some beauty rare,Calisto,Clymene, Daphne, or Semele,Antiopa, Or Amymone,Syrinx, many more Too long, then lay'st thy scapes on names ador'd, Apollo,Neptune,Jupiter, or Pan, Satyr, or Fawn, or Silvan?   But these haunts Delight not all; among the Sons of Men, How many have with a smile made small account Of beauty and her lures, easily scorn'd All her assaults, on worthier things intent? Remember that Pellean Conquerour, A youth, how all the Beauties of the East He slightly view'd, and slightly over-pass'd; How hee sirnam'd of Africa dismiss'd In his prime youth the fair Iberian maid. For Solomon he liv'd at ease, and full Of honour, wealth, high fare, aim'd not beyond Higher design then to enjoy his State; Thence to the bait of Women lay expos'd; But he whom we attempt is wiser far Then Solomon, of more exalted mind, Made and set wholly on the accomplishment Of greatest things; what woman will you find, Though of this Age the wonder and the fame, On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye Of fond desire? or should she confident, As sitting Queen ador'd on Beauties Throne, Descend with all her winning charms begirt To enamour, as the Zone of Venus once Wrought that effect on Jove, so Fables tell; How would one look from his Majestick brow Seated as on the top of Vertues hill, Discount'nance her despis'd, and put to rout All her array; her female pride deject, Or turn to reverent awe? for Beauty stands In the 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 abasht: Therefore with manlier objects we must try His constancy, with such as have more shew Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise; Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd; Or that which only seems to satisfie Lawful desires of Nature, not beyond; And now I know he hungers where no food Is to be found, in the wide Wilderness; The rest commit to me, I shall let pass No advantage, and his strength as oft assay. He ceas'd, and heard thir grant in loud acclaim; Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band Of Spirits likest to himself in guile To be at hand, and at his beck appear, If cause were to unfold some active Scene Of various persons each to know his part; Then to the Desert takes with these his flight; Where still from shade to shade the Son of God After forty days fasting had remain'd, Now hungring first, and to himself thus said. Where will this end? four times ten days I have pass'd Wandring this woody maze, and humane food Nor tasted, nor had appetite; that Fast To Vertue I impute not, or count part Of what I suffer here; if Nature need not, Or God support Nature without repast Though needing, what praise is it to endure? But now I feel I hunger, which declares, Nature hath need of what she asks; yet God Can satisfie that need some other way, Though hunger still remain: so it remain Without this bodies wasting, I content me, And from the sting of Famine fear no harm, Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts that feed Mee hungring more to do my Fathers will. It was the hour of night, when thus the Son Commun'd in silent walk, then laid him down Under the hospitable covert nigh Of Trees thick interwoven; there he slept, And dream'd, as appetite is wont to dream, Of meats and drinks, Natures refreshment sweet; Him thought, he by the Brook of Cherith stood And saw the Ravens with their horny beaks Food to Elijah bringing Even and Morn, Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they brought: He saw the Prophet also how he fled Into the Desert, and how there he slept Under a Juniper; then how awakt, He found his Supper on the coals prepar'd, And by the Angel was bid rise and eat, And eat the second time after repose, The strength whereof suffic'd him forty days; Sometimes that with Elijah he partook, Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse. Thus wore out night, and now the Herald Lark Left his ground-nest, high towring to descry The morns approach, and greet her with his Song: As lightly from his grassy Couch up rose Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream, Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting wak'd. Up to a hill anon his steps he rear'd, From whose high top to ken the prospect round, If Cottage were in view, Sheep-cote or Herd; But Cottage, Herd or Sheep-cote none he saw, Only in a bottom saw a pleasant Grove, With chaunt of tuneful Birds resounding loud; Thither he bent his way, determin'd there To rest at noon, and entr'd soon the shade High rooft and walks beneath, and alleys brown That open'd in the midst a woody Scene, Natures own work it seem'd (Nature taught Art) And to a Superstitious eye the haunt Of Wood-Gods and Wood-Nymphs; he view'd it round, When suddenly a man before him stood, Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad, As one in City, or Court, or Palace bred, And with fair speech these words to him address'd. With granted leave officious I return, But much more wonder that the Son of God In this wild solitude so long should bide Of all things destitute, and well I know, Not without hunger.   Others of some note, As story tells, have trod this Wilderness; The Fugitive Bond-woman with her Son Out cast Nebaioth, yet found he relief By a providing Angel; all the race Of Israel here had famish'd, had not God Rain'd from Heaven Manna, and that Prophet bold Native of Thebes wandring here was fed Twice by a voice inviting him to eat. Of thee these forty days none hath regard, Forty and more deserted here indeed. To whom thus Jesus; what conclud'st thou hence? They all had need, I as thou seest have none. How hast thou hunger then? Satan reply'd, Tell me if Food were now before thee set, Would'st thou not eat? Thereafter as I like The giver, answer'd Jesus. Why should 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 Duty and Service, nor to stay till bid, But tender all their power? nor mention I Meats by the Law unclean, or offer'd first To Idols, those young Daniel could refuse; Nor proffer'd by an Enemy, though who Would scruple that, with want opprest? behold Nature asham'd, or better to express, Troubl'd that thou shouldst hunger, hath purvey'd From all the Elements her choicest store To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord With honour, only deign to sit and eat. He spake no dream, for as his words had end, Our Saviour lifting up his eyes beheld In ample space under the broadest shade A Table richly spred, in regal mode, With dishes pill'd, and meats of noblest sort And savour, Beasts of chase, or Fowl of game, In pastry built, or from the spit, or boyl'd, Gris-amber-steam'd; all Fish from Sea or Shore, Freshet, or purling Brook, of shell or fin, And exquisitest name, for which was drain'd Pontus and Lucrine Bay, and Afric Coast. Alas how simple, to these Cates compar'd, Was that crude Apple that diverted Eve! And at a stately side-board by the wine That fragrant smell diffus'd, in order stood Tall stripling youths rich clad, of fairer hew Then Ganymed or Hylas, distant more Under the Trees now trip'd, now solemn stood Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades With fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn, And Ladies of th'Hesperides, that seem'd Fairer then feign'd of old, or fabl'd since Of Fairy Damsels met in Forest wide By Knights of Logres, or of Lyones, 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 odors fann'd From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells. Such was the Splendour, and the Tempter now His invitation earnestly renew'd. What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat? These are not Fruits forbidden, no interdict Defends the touching of these viands pure, Thir taste no knowledge works, at least of evil, But life preserves, destroys life's enemy, Hunger, with sweet restorative delight. All these are Spirits of Air, and Woods, and Springs, Thy gentle Ministers, who come to pay Thee homage, and acknowledge thee thir Lord: What doubt'st thou Son of God? sit down and eat. To whom thus Jesus temperately reply'd: Said'st thou not that to all things I had right? And who withholds my pow'r that right to use? Shall I receive by gift what of my own, When and where likes me best, I can command? I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou, Command a Table in this Wilderness, And call swift flights of Angels ministrant Array'd in Glory on my cup to attend: Why shouldst thou then obtrude this diligence, In vain, where no acceptance it can find, And with my hunger what has thou to do? Thy pompous Delicacies I contemn, And 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 pow'r I bring thee voluntary What I might have bestow'd on whom I pleas'd, And rather opportunely in this place Chose to impart to thy apparent need, Why shouldst thou not accept it? but I see What I can do or offer is suspect; Of these things others quickly will dispose Whose pains have earn'd the far fet spoil. With that Both Table and Provision vanish'd quite With sound of Harpies wings, and Talons heard; Only the importune Tempter still remain'd, And with these words his temptation pursu'd. By hunger, that each other Creature tames, Thou art not to be harm'd, therefore not mov'd; Thy temperance invincible besides, For no allurement yields to appetite, And all thy heart is set on high designs, High actions; but wherewith to be atchiev'd? Great acts require great means of enterprise, Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth, A Carpenter thy Father known, thy self Bred up in poverty and streights at home; Lost in a Desert here and hunger-bit: Which way or from what hope dost thou aspire To greatness? whence Authority deriv'st, What Followers, what Retinue canst thou gain, Or at thy heels the dizzy Multitude, Longer then thou canst feed them on thy cost? Money brings Honour, Friends, Conquest, and Realms; What rais'd Antipater the Edomite, And his Son Herod plac'd on Juda's Throne; (Thy throne) but gold that got him puissant friends? Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive, Get Riches first, get Wealth, and Treasure heap, Not difficult, if thou hearken to me, Riches are mine, Fortune is in my hand; They whom I favour thrive in wealth amain, While Virtue, Valour, Wisdom sit in want. To whom thus Jesus patiently reply'd; Yet Wealth without these three is impotent, To gain dominion or to keep it gain'd. Witness those antient Empires of the Earth, In highth of all thir flowing wealth dissolv'd: But men endu'd with these have oft attain'd In lowest poverty to highest deeds; Gideon and Jephtha, and the Shepherd lad, Whose off-spring on the Throne of Juda sat So many Ages, and shall yet regain That seat, and reign in Israel without end. Among the Heathen, (for throughout the World To me is not unknown what hath been done Worthy of Memorial) canst thou not remember Quintius,Fabricius,Curius,Regulus? For I esteem those names of men so poor Who could do mighty things, and could contemn Riches though offer'd from the hand of Kings. And what in me seems wanting, but that I May also in this poverty as soon Accomplish what they did, perhaps and more? Extol not Riches then, the toyl of Fools, The wise mans cumbrance if not snare, more apt To slacken Virtue, and abate her edge, Then 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 shew, is but a wreath of thorns, Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights To him who wears the Regal Diadem, When on his shoulders each mans burden lies; For therein stands the office of a King, His Honour, Vertue, Merit and chief Praise, That for the Publick all this weight he bears. Yet he who reigns within himself, and rules Passions, Desires, and Fears, is more a King; Which every wise and vertuous man attains: And who attains not, ill aspires to rule Cities of men or head-strong Multitudes, Subject himself to Anarchy within, Or lawless passions in him which he serves. But to guide Nations in the way of truth By saving Doctrine, and from errour lead To know, and knowing worship God aright, Is yet more Kingly, this attracts the Soul, Governs the inner man, the nobler part, That other o're the body only reigns, And oft by force, which to a generous mind So reigning can be no sincere delight. Besides to give a Kingdom hath been thought Greater and nobler done, and to lay down Far more magnanimous, then to assume. Riches are needless then, both for themselves, And for thy reason why they should be sought, To gain a Scepter, oftest better miss't.

SO spake the Son of God, and Satan stood A while as mute confounded what to say, What to reply, confuted and convinc't Of his weak arguing, and fallacious drift; At length collecting all his Serpent wiles, With soothing words renew'd, him thus accosts. I see thou know'st what is of use to know, What best to say canst say, to do canst do; Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heart Conteins of good, wise, just, the perfect shape. Should Kings and Nations from thy mouth consult, Thy Counsel would be as the Oracle Urim and Thummim, those oraculous gems On Aaron's breast: or tongue of Seers old Infallible; or wert thou sought to deeds That might require th' array of war, thy skill Of conduct would be such, that all the world Could not sustain thy Prowess, or subsist In battel, though against thy few in arms. These God-like Vertues wherefore dost thou hide? Affecting private life, or more obscure In savage Wilderness, wherefore deprive All Earth her wonder at thy acts, thy self The fame and glory, glory the reward That sole excites to high attempts the flame Of most erected Spirits, most temper'd pure Ætherial, who all pleasures else despise, All treasures and all gain esteem as dross, And dignities and powers all but the highest? Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe, the Son Of Macedonian Philip had e're these Won Asia and the Throne of Cyrus held At his dispose, young Scipio had brought down The Carthaginian pride, young Pompey quell'd The Pontic King and in triumph had rode. Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature, Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment. Great Julius, whom now all the world admires The more he grew in years, the more inflam'd With glory, wept that he had liv'd so long Inglorious: but thou yet art not too late. To whom our Saviour calmly thus reply'd. Thou neither dost perswade me to seek wealth For Empires sake, nor Empire to affect For glories sake by all thy argument. For what is glory but the blaze of fame, The peoples praise, if always praise unmixt? And what the people but a herd confus'd, A miscellaneous rabble, who extol Things vulgar, & well weigh'd, scarce worth the praise, They praise and they admire they know not what; And know not whom, but as one leads the other; And what delight to be by such extoll'd, To live upon thir tongues and be thir talk, Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise? His lot who dares be singularly good. Th' intelligent among them and the wise Are few, and glory scarce of few is rais'd. This is true glory and renown, when God Looking on the Earth, with approbation marks The just man, and divulges him through Heaven To all his Angels, who with true applause Recount his praises; thus he did to Job, When to extend his fame through Heaven & Earth, As thou to thy reproach mayst well remember, He ask'd thee, hast thou seen my servant Job? Famous he was in Heaven, on Earth less known; Where glory is false glory, attributed To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. They err who count it glorious to subdue By Conquest far and wide, to over-run Large Countries, and in field great Battels win, Great Cities by assault: what do these Worthies, But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave Peaceable Nations, neighbouring, or remote, Made Captive, yet deserving freedom more Then those thir Conquerours, who leave behind Nothing but ruin wheresoe're they rove, And all the flourishing works of peace destroy, Then swell with pride, and must be titl'd Gods, Great Benefactors of mankind, Deliverers, Worship't with Temple, Priest and Sacrifice; One is the Son of Jove, of Mars the other, Till Conquerour Death discover them scarce men, Rowling in brutish vices, and deform'd, Violent or shameful death thir 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; By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent, By patience, temperance; I mention still Him whom thy wrongs with Saintly patience born, Made famous in a Land and times obscure; Who names not now with honour patient Job? Poor Socrates(who next more memorable?) By what he taught and suffer'd for so doing, For truths sake suffering death unjust, lives now Equal in fame to proudest Conquerours. Yet if for fame and glory aught be done, Aught suffer'd; if young African for fame His wasted Country freed from Punic rage, The deed becomes unprais'd, the man at least, And loses, though but verbal, his reward. Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek Oft not deserv'd?   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, And for his glory all things made, all things Orders and governs, nor content in Heaven By all his Angels glorifi'd, requires Glory from men, from all men good or bad, Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption; Above all Sacrifice, or hallow'd gift Glory he requires, and glory he receives Promiscuous from all Nations, Jew, or Greek, Or Barbarous, nor exception hath declar'd; From us his foes pronounc't glory he exacts. To whom our Saviour fervently reply'd. And reason; since his word all things produc'd, Though chiefly not for glory as prime end, But to shew forth his goodness, and impart His good communicable to every soul Freely; of whom what could he less expect Then glory and benediction, that is thanks, The slightest, easiest, readiest recompence From them who could return him nothing else, And not returning that would likeliest render Contempt instead, dishonour, obloquy? Hard recompence, unsutable return For so much good, so much beneficence. But why should man seek glory? who of his own Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs But condemnation, ignominy, and shame? Who for so many benefits receiv'd Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate and false, And so of all true good himself despoil'd, Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take That which to God alone of right belongs; Yet so much bounty is in God, such grace, That who advance his glory, not thir own, Them he himself to glory will advance. So spake the Son of God; and here again 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, 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 Mothers side thy Father, though thy right Be now in powerful hands, that will not part Easily from possession won with arms; Judæa now and all the promis'd land Reduc't a Province under Roman yoke, Obeys Tiberius; nor is always rul'd With temperate sway; oft have they violated The Temple, oft the Law with foul affronts, Abominations rather, as did once Antiochus: and think'st thou to regain Thy right by sitting still or thus retiring? So did not Machabeus: he indeed Retir'd unto the Desert, but with arms; And o're a mighty King so oft prevail'd, That by strong hand his Family obtain'd, Though Priests, the Crown, and David's Throne usurp'd, With Modin and her Suburbs once content. If Kingdom move thee not, let move thee Zeal, And Duty; Zeal and Duty are not slow; But on Occasions forelock watchful wait. They themselves rather are occasion best, Zeal of thy Fathers house, Duty to free Thy Country from her Heathen servitude; So shalt thou best fullfil, best verifie The Prophets old, who sung thy endless raign, The happier raign the sooner it begins, Raign then; what canst thou better do the while? To whom our Saviour answer thus return'd. All things are best fullfil'd in their due time, And time there is for all things, Truth hath said: If of my raign Prophetic Writ hath told, That it shall never end, so when begin The Father in his purpose hath decreed, He in whose hand all times and seasons roul. What if he hath decreed that I shall first Be try'd in humble state, and things adverse, By tribulations, injuries, insults, Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence, Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting Without distrust or doubt, that he may know What I can suffer, how obey? who best Can suffer, best can do; best reign, who first Well hath obey'd; just tryal e're I merit My exaltation without change or end. But what concerns it thee when I begin My everlasting Kingdom, why art thou Sollicitous, what moves thy inquisition? Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall, And my promotion will be thy destruction? To whom the Tempter inly rackt reply'd. Let that come when it comes; all hope is lost Of my reception into grace; what worse? For where no hope is left, is left no fear; If there be worse, the expectation more Of worse torments me then the feeling can. I would be at the worst; worst is my Port, My harbour and my ultimate repose, The end I would attain, my final good. My error was my error and my crime My crime; whatever for it self condemn'd, And will alike be punish'd; whether thou Raign or raign not; though to that gentle brow Willingly I could flye, and hope thy raign, From that placid aspect and meek regard, Rather then aggravate my evil state, Would stand between me and thy Fathers ire, (Whose ire I dread more then the fire of Hell) A shelter and a kind of shading cool Interposition, as a summers cloud. If I then to the worst that can be hast, Why move thy feet so slow to what is best, Happiest both to thy self and all the world, That thou who worthiest art should'st be thir King? Perhaps thou linger'st in deep thoughts detain'd Of the enterprize so hazardous and high; No wonder, for though in thee be united What of perfection can in man be found, Or human nature can receive, consider Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent At home, scarce view'd the Gallilean Towns, And once a year Jerusalem, few days Short sojourn; and what thence could'st thou observe? The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory, Empires, and Monarchs, and thir radiant Courts, Best school of best experience, quickest in sight In all things that to greatest actions lead. The wisest, unexperienc't, will be ever Timorous and loth, with novice modesty, (As he who seeking Asses found a Kingdom) Irresolute, unhardy, unadventrous: But I will bring thee where thou soon shalt quit Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes The Monarchies of the Earth, thir pomp and state, Sufficient introduction to inform Thee, of thy self so apt, in regal Arts, And regal Mysteries; that thou may'st know How best their opposition to withstand. With that (such power was giv'n him then) he took The Son of God up to a Mountain high. It was a Mountain at whose verdant feet A spatious plain out stretch't in circuit wide Lay pleasant; from his side two rivers flow'd, Th' one winding, the other strait and left between Fair Champain with less rivers interveind, Then meeting joyn'd thir tribute to the Sea: Fertil of corn the glebe, of oyl and wine, With herds the pastures throng'd, with flocks the hills, Huge Cities and high towr'd, that well might seem The seats of mightiest Monarchs, and so large The Prospect was, that here and there was room For barren desert fountainless and dry. To this high mountain top the Tempter brought Our Saviour, and new train of words began. Well have we speeded, and o're hill and dale, Forest and field, and flood, Temples and Towers Cut shorter many a league; here thou behold'st Assyria and her Empires antient bounds, Araxes and the Caspian lake, thence on As far as Indus East,Euphrates West, And oft beyond; to South the Persian Bay, And inaccessible the Arabian drouth: Here Ninevee, of length within her wall Several days journey, built by Ninus old, Of that first golden Monarchy the seat, And seat of Salmanassar, whose success Israel in long captivity still mourns; There Babylon the wonder of all tongues, As antient, but rebuilt by him who twice Judah and all thy Father David's house Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste, Till Cyrus set them free;Persepolis His City there thou seest, and Bactra there; Ecbatana her structure vast there shews, And Hecatompylos her hunderd gates, There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream, The drink of none but Kings; of later fame Built by Emathian, or by Parthian hands, The great Seleucia,Nisibis, and there Artaxata,Teredon,Tesiphon, Turning with easie eye thou may'st behold. All these the Parthian, now some Ages past, By great Arsaces led, who founded first That Empire, under his dominion holds From the luxurious Kings of Antioch won. And just in time thou com'st to have a view Of his great power; for now the Parthian King In Ctesiphon hath gather'd all his Host Against the Scythian, whose incursions wild Have wasted Sogdiana; to her aid He marches now in hast; see, though from far, His thousands, in what martial equipage They issue forth, Steel Bows, and Shafts their arms Of equal dread in flight, or in pursuit; All Horsemen, in which fight they most excel; See how in warlike muster they appear, In Rhombs and wedges, and half moons, and wings. He look't and saw what numbers numberless The City gates out powr'd, light armed Troops In coats of Mail and military pride; In Mail thir horses clad, yet fleet and strong, Prauncing their riders bore, the flower and choice Of many Provinces from bound to bound; 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 Of Susiana to Balsara's hav'n. He saw them in thir forms of battell rang'd, How quick they wheel'd, and flying behind them shot Sharp sleet of arrowie showers against the face Of thir pursuers, and overcame by flight; The field all iron cast a gleaming brown, Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn, Cuirassiers all in steel for standing fight; Chariots or Elephants endorst with Towers Of Archers, nor of labouring Pioners A multitude with Spades and Axes arm'd To lay hills plain, fell woods, or valleys fill, Or where plain was raise hill, or over-lay With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke; Mules after these, Camels and Dromedaries, And Waggons fraught with Utensils of war. Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp, When Agrican with all his Northern powers Besieg'd Albracca, as Romances tell; The City of Gallaphrone, from thence to win The fairest of her Sex Angelica His daughter, sought by many Prowest Knights, Both Paynim, and the Peers of Charlemane. Such and so numerous was thir Chivalrie; At sight whereof the Fiend yet more presum'd, And to our Saviour thus his words renew'd. That thou may'st know I seek not to engage Thy Vertue, 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 By Prophet or by Angel, unless thou Endeavour, as thy Father David did, Thou never shalt obtain; prediction still In all things, and all men, supposes means, Without means us'd, what it predicts revokes. But say thou wer't 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, Between two such enclosing enemies Roman and Parthian? therefore one of these Thou must make sure thy own, the Parthian first By my advice, as nearer and of late Found able by invasion to annoy Thy country, and captive lead away her Kings Antigonus, and old Hyrcanus bound, Maugre the Roman: it shall be my task To render thee the Parthian at dispose; Chuse which thou wilt by conquest or by league. By him thou shalt regain, without him not, That which alone can truly reinstall thee In David's royal seat, his true Successour, Deliverance of thy brethren, those ten Tribes Whose off-spring in his Territory yet serve In Habor, and among the Medes dispers't, Ten Sons of Jacob, two of Joseph lost Thus long from Israel; serving as of old Thir Fathers in the land of Egypt serv'd, This offer sets before thee to deliver. These if from servitude thou shalt restore To thir inheritance, then, nor till then, Thou on the Throne of David in full glory, From Egypt to Euphrates and beyond Shalt raign, and Rome or Caesar not need fear. To whom our Saviour answer'd thus unmov'd. Much ostentation vain of fleshly arm, And fragile arms, much instrument of war Long in preparing, soon to nothing brought, Before mine eyes thou hast set; and in my ear Vented much policy, and projects deep Of enemies, of aids, battels and leagues, Plausible to the world, to me worth naught. Means I must use thou say'st, prediction else Will unpredict and fail me of the Throne: My time I told thee, (and that time for thee Were better farthest off) is not yet come,; When that comes think not thou to find me slack On my part aught endeavouring, or to need Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome Luggage of war there shewn me, argument Of human weakness rather then of strength. My brethren, as thou call'st them; those Ten Tribes I must deliver, if I mean to raign David's true heir, and his full Scepter sway 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 numbring Israel, which cost the lives Of threescore and ten thousand 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 From God to worship Calves, the Deities Of Egypt,Baal next and Ashtaroth, And all the Idolatries of Heathen round, Besides thir other worse then heathenish crimes; Nor in the land of their captivity Humbled themselves, or penitent besought The God of their fore-fathers; but so dy'd Impenitent, and left a race behind Like to themselves, distinguishable scarce From Gentils, but by Circumcision vain, And God with Idols in their worship joyn'd. Should I of these the liberty regard, Who freed, as to their antient Patrimony, Unhumbl'd, unrepentant, unreform'd, Headlong would follow; and to thir Gods perhaps Of Bethel and of Dan? no, let them serve Thir enemies, who serve Idols with God. Yet he at length, time to himself best known, Remembring Abraham by some wond'rous call May bring them back repentant and sincere, And at their passing cleave the Assyrian flood, While to their native land with joy they hast, As the Red Sea and Jordan once he cleft, When to the promis'd land thir Fathers pass'd; To his due time and providence I leave them. So spake Israel's true King, and to the Fiend Made answer meet, that made void all his wiles. So fares it when with truth falshood contends.