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