Paradise Regain'd : Book I.
I,
who
erewhile
the
happy
Garden
sung
By
one
man's
disobedience
lost,
now
sing
Recovered
Paradise
to
all
mankind,
By
one
man's
firm
obedience
fully
tried
Through
all
temptation,
and
the
Tempter
foiled
In
all
his
wiles,
defeated
and
repulsed,
And
Eden
raised
in
the
waste
Wilderness.
Thou
Spirit,
who
led'st
this
glorious
Eremite
Into
the
desert,
his
victorious
field
Against
the
spiritual
foe,
and
brought'st
him
thence
By
proof
the
undoubted
Son
of
God,
inspire,
As
thou
art
wont,
my
prompted
song,
else
mute,
And
bear
through
highth
or
depth
of
Nature's
bounds,
With
prosperous
wing
full
summed,
to
tell
of
deeds
Above
heroic,
though
in
secret
done,
And
unrecorded
left
through
many
an
age:
Worthy
to
have
not
remained
so
long
unsung.
Now
had
the
great
Proclaimer,
with
a
voice
More
awful
than
the
sound
of
trumpet,
cried
Repentance,
and
Heaven's
kingdom
nigh
at
hand
To
all
baptized.
To
his
great
baptism
flocked
With
awe
the
regions
round,
and
with
them
came
From
Nazareth
the
son
of
Joseph
deemed
To
the
flood
Jordan—came
as
then
obscure,
Unmarked,
unknown.
But
him
the
Baptist
soon
Descried,
divinely
warned,
and
witness
bore
As
to
his
worthier,
and
would
have
resigned
To
him
his
heavenly
office.
Nor
was
long
His
witness
unconfirmed:
on
him
baptized
Heaven
opened,
and
in
likeness
of
a
Dove
The
Spirit
descended,
while
the
Father's
voice
From
Heaven
pronounced
him
his
beloved
Son.
That
heard
the
Adversary,
who,
roving
still
About
the
world,
at
that
assembly
famed
Would
not
be
last,
and,
with
the
voice
divine
Nigh
thunder-struck,
the
exalted
man
to
whom
Such
high
attest
was
given
a
while
surveyed
With
wonder;
then,
with
envy
fraught
and
rage,
Flies
to
his
place,
nor
rests,
but
in
mid
air
To
council
summons
all
his
mighty
Peers,
Within
thick
clouds
and
dark
tenfold
involved,
A
gloomy
consistory;
and
them
amidst,
With
looks
aghast
and
sad,
he
thus
bespake:—
"O
ancient
Powers
of
Air
and
this
wide
World
(For
much
more
willingly
I
mention
Air,
This
our
old
conquest,
than
remember
Hell,
Our
hated
habitation),
well
ye
know
How
many
ages,
as
the
years
of
men,
This
Universe
we
have
possessed,
and
ruled
In
manner
at
our
will
the
affairs
of
Earth,
Since
Adam
and
his
facile
consort
Eve
Lost
Paradise,
deceived
by
me,
though
since
With
dread
attending
when
that
fatal
wound
Shall
be
inflicted
by
the
seed
of
Eve
Upon
my
head.
Long
the
decrees
of
Heaven
Delay,
for
longest
time
to
Him
is
short;
And
now,
too
soon
for
us,
the
circling
hours
This
dreaded
time
have
compassed,
wherein
we
Must
bide
the
stroke
of
that
long-threatened
wound
(At
least,
if
so
we
can,
and
by
the
head
Broken
be
not
intended
all
our
power
To
be
infringed,
our
freedom
and
our
being
In
this
fair
empire
won
of
Earth
and
Air)—
For
this
ill
news
I
bring:
The
Woman's
Seed,
Destined
to
this,
is
late
of
woman
born.
His
birth
to
our
just
fear
gave
no
small
cause;
But
his
growth
now
to
youth's
full
flower,
displaying
All
virtue,
grace
and
wisdom
to
achieve
Things
highest,
greatest,
multiplies
my
fear.
Before
him
a
great
Prophet,
to
proclaim
His
coming,
is
sent
harbinger,
who
all
Invites,
and
in
the
consecrated
stream
Pretends
to
wash
off
sin,
and
fit
them
so
Purified
to
receive
him
pure,
or
rather
To
do
him
honour
as
their
King.
All
come,
And
he
himself
among
them
was
baptized—
Not
thence
to
be
more
pure,
but
to
receive
The
testimony
of
Heaven,
that
who
he
is
Thenceforth
the
nations
may
not
doubt.
I
saw
The
Prophet
do
him
reverence;
on
him,
rising
Out
of
the
water,
Heaven
above
the
clouds
Unfold
her
crystal
doors;
thence
on
his
head
A
perfet
Dove
descend
(whate'er
it
meant);
And
out
of
Heaven
the
sovraign
voice
I
heard,
'This
is
my
Son
beloved,—in
him
am
pleased.'
His
mother,
than,
is
mortal,
but
his
Sire
He
who
obtains
the
monarchy
of
Heaven;
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
Father's
glory
shine.
Ye
see
our
danger
on
the
utmost
edge
Of
hazard,
which
admits
no
long
debate,
But
must
with
something
sudden
be
opposed
(Not
force,
but
well-couched
fraud,
well-woven
snares),
Ere
in
the
head
of
nations
he
appear,
Their
king,
their
leader,
and
supreme
on
Earth.
I,
when
no
other
durst,
sole
undertook
The
dismal
expedition
to
find
out
And
ruin
Adam,
and
the
exploit
performed
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
the
infernal
crew,
Distracted
and
surprised
with
deep
dismay
At
these
sad
tidings.
But
no
time
was
then
For
long
indulgence
to
their
fears
or
grief:
Unanimous
they
all
commit
the
care
And
management
of
this
man
enterprise
To
him,
their
great
Dictator,
whose
attempt
At
first
against
mankind
so
well
had
thrived
In
Adam's
overthrow,
and
led
their
march
From
Hell's
deep-vaulted
den
to
dwell
in
light,
Regents,
and
potentates,
and
kings,
yea
gods,
Of
many
a
pleasant
realm
and
province
wide.
So
to
the
coast
of
Jordan
he
directs
His
easy
steps,
girded
with
snaky
wiles,
Where
he
might
likeliest
find
this
new-declared,
This
man
of
men,
attested
Son
of
God,
Temptation
and
all
guile
on
him
to
try—
So
to
subvert
whom
he
suspected
raised
To
end
his
reign
on
Earth
so
long
enjoyed:
But,
contrary,
unweeting
he
fulfilled
The
purposed
counsel,
pre-ordained
and
fixed,
Of
the
Most
High,
who,
in
full
frequence
bright
Of
Angels,
thus
to
Gabriel
smiling
spake:—
"Gabriel,
this
day,
by
proof,
thou
shalt
behold,
Thou
and
all
Angels
conversant
on
Earth
With
Man
or
men's
affairs,
how
I
begin
To
verify
that
solemn
message
late,
On
which
I
sent
thee
to
the
Virgin
pure
In
Galilee,
that
she
should
bear
a
son,
Great
in
renown,
and
called
the
Son
of
God.
Then
told'st
her,
doubting
how
these
things
could
be
To
her
a
virgin,
that
on
her
should
come
The
Holy
Ghost,
and
the
power
of
the
Highest
O'ershadow
her.
This
Man,
born
and
now
upgrown,
To
shew
him
worthy
of
his
birth
divine
And
high
prediction,
henceforth
I
expose
To
Satan;
let
him
tempt,
and
now
assay
His
utmost
subtlety,
because
he
boasts
And
vaunts
of
his
great
cunning
to
the
throng
Of
his
Apostasy.
He
might
have
learnt
Less
overweening,
since
he
failed
in
Job,
Whose
constant
perseverance
overcame
Whate'er
his
cruel
malice
could
invent.
He
now
shall
know
I
can
produce
a
man,
Of
female
seed,
far
abler
to
resist
All
his
solicitations,
and
at
length
All
his
vast
force,
and
drive
him
back
to
Hell—
Winning
by
conquest
what
the
first
man
lost
By
fallacy
surprised.
But
first
I
mean
To
exercise
him
in
the
Wilderness;
There
he
shall
first
lay
down
the
rudiments
Of
his
great
warfare,
ere
I
send
him
forth
To
conquer
Sin
and
Death,
the
two
grand
foes.
By
humiliation
and
strong
sufferance
His
weakness
shall
o'ercome
Satanic
strength,
And
all
the
world,
and
mass
of
sinful
flesh;
That
all
the
Angels
and
aethereal
Powers—
They
now,
and
men
hereafter—may
discern
From
what
consummate
virtue
I
have
chose
This
perfet
man,
by
merit
called
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
moved,
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
entering
his
great
duel,
not
of
arms,
But
to
vanquish
by
wisdom
hellish
wiles!
The
Father
knows
the
Son;
therefore
secure
Ventures
his
filial
virtue,
though
untried,
Against
whate'er
may
tempt,
whate'er
seduce,
Allure,
or
terrify,
or
undermine.
Be
frustrate,
all
ye
stratagems
of
Hell,
And,
devilish
machinations,
come
to
nought!"
So
they
in
Heaven
their
odes
and
vigils
tuned.
Meanwhile
the
Son
of
God,
who
yet
some
days
Lodged
in
Bethabara,
where
John
baptized,
Musing
and
much
revolving
in
his
breast
How
best
the
mighty
work
he
might
begin
Of
Saviour
to
mankind,
and
which
way
first
Publish
his
godlike
office
now
mature,
One
day
forth
walked
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
entered
now
the
bordering
Desert
wild,
And,
with
dark
shades
and
rocks
environed
round,
His
holy
meditations
thus
pursued:—
"O
what
a
multitude
of
thoughts
at
once
Awakened
in
me
swarm,
while
I
consider
What
from
within
I
feel
myself,
and
hear
What
from
without
comes
often
to
my
ears,
Ill
sorting
with
my
present
state
compared!
When
I
was
yet
a
child,
no
childish
play
To
me
was
pleasing;
all
my
mind
was
set
Serious
to
learn
and
know,
and
thence
to
do,
What
might
be
public
good;
myself
I
thought
Born
to
that
end,
born
to
promote
all
truth,
All
righteous
things.
Therefore,
above
my
years,
The
Law
of
God
I
read,
and
found
it
sweet;
Made
it
my
whole
delight,
and
in
it
grew
To
such
perfection
that,
ere
yet
my
age
Had
measured
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
admired
by
all.
Yet
this
not
all
To
which
my
spirit
aspired.
Victorious
deeds
Flamed
in
my
heart,
heroic
acts—one
while
To
rescue
Israel
from
the
Roman
yoke;
Then
to
subdue
and
quell,
o'er
all
the
earth,
Brute
violence
and
proud
tyrannic
power,
Till
truth
were
freed,
and
equity
restored:
Yet
held
it
more
humane,
more
heavenly,
first
By
winning
words
to
conquer
willing
hearts,
And
make
persuasion
do
the
work
of
fear;
At
least
to
try,
and
teach
the
erring
soul,
Not
wilfully
misdoing,
but
unware
Misled;
the
stubborn
only
to
subdue.
These
growing
thoughts
my
mother
soon
perceiving,
By
words
at
times
cast
forth,
inly
rejoiced,
And
said
to
me
apart,
'High
are
thy
thoughts,
O
Son!
but
nourish
them,
and
let
them
soar
To
what
highth
sacred
virtue
and
true
worth
Can
raise
them,
though
above
example
high;
By
matchless
deeds
express
thy
matchless
Sire.
For
know,
thou
art
no
son
of
mortal
man;
Though
men
esteem
thee
low
of
parentage,
Thy
Father
is
the
Eternal
King
who
rules
All
Heaven
and
Earth,
Angels
and
sons
of
men.
A
messenger
from
God
foretold
thy
birth
Conceived
in
me
a
virgin;
he
foretold
Thou
shouldst
be
great,
and
sit
on
David's
throne,
And
of
thy
kingdom
there
should
be
no
end.
At
thy
nativity
a
glorious
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
lay'st;
For
in
the
inn
was
left
no
better
room.
A
Star,
not
seen
before,
in
heaven
appearing,
Guided
the
Wise
Men
thither
from
the
East,
To
honour
thee
with
incense,
myrrh,
and
gold;
By
whose
bright
course
led
on
they
found
the
place,
Affirming
it
thy
star,
new-graven
in
heaven,
By
which
they
knew
thee
King
of
Israel
born.
Just
Simeon
and
prophetic
Anna,
warned
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
heart,
straight
I
again
revolved
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,
Ere
I
the
promised
kingdom
can
attain,
Or
work
redemption
for
mankind,
whose
sins'
Full
weight
must
be
transferred
upon
my
head.
Yet,
neither
thus
disheartened
or
dismayed,
The
time
prefixed
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
believed
was
from
above;
but
he
Straight
knew
me,
and
with
loudest
voice
proclaimed
Me
him
(for
it
was
shewn
him
so
from
Heaven)—
Me
him
whose
harbinger
he
was;
and
first
Refused
on
me
his
baptism
to
confer,
As
much
his
greater,
and
was
hardly
won.
But,
as
I
rose
out
of
the
laving
stream,
Heaven
opened
her
eternal
doors,
from
whence
The
Spirit
descended
on
me
like
a
Dove;
And
last,
the
sum
of
all,
my
Father's
voice,
Audibly
heard
from
Heaven,
pronounced
me
his,
Me
his
beloved
Son,
in
whom
alone
He
was
well
pleased:
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
derived
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
marked
return,
Was
difficult,
by
human
steps
untrod;
And
he
still
on
was
led,
but
with
such
thoughts
Accompanied
of
things
past
and
to
come
Lodged
in
his
breast
as
well
might
recommend
Such
solitude
before
choicest
society.
Full
forty
days
he
passed—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
harboured
in
one
cave,
is
not
revealed;
Nor
tasted
human
food,
nor
hunger
felt,
Till
those
days
ended;
hungered
then
at
last
Among
wild
beasts.
They
at
his
sight
grew
mild,
Nor
sleeping
him
nor
waking
harmed;
his
walk
The
fiery
serpent
fled
and
noxious
worm;
The
lion
and
fierce
tiger
glared
aloof.
But
now
an
aged
man
in
rural
weeds,
Following,
as
seemed,
the
quest
of
some
stray
eye,
Or
withered
sticks
to
gather,
which
might
serve
Against
a
winter's
day,
when
winds
blow
keen,
To
warm
him
wet
returned
from
field
at
eve,
He
saw
approach;
who
first
with
curious
eye
Perused
him,
then
with
words
thus
uttered
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
returned,
and
dropt
not
here
His
carcass,
pined
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
honoured
so,
and
called
thee
Son
Of
God.
I
saw
and
heard,
for
we
sometimes
Who
dwell
this
wild,
constrained
by
want,
come
forth
To
town
or
village
nigh
(nighest
is
far),
Where
aught
we
hear,
and
curious
are
to
hear,
What
happens
new;
fame
also
finds
us
out."
To
whom
the
Son
of
God:—"Who
brought
me
hither
Will
bring
me
hence;
no
other
guide
I
seek."
"By
miracle
he
may,"
replied
the
swain;
"What
other
way
I
see
not;
for
we
here
Live
on
tough
roots
and
stubs,
to
thirst
inured
More
than
the
camel,
and
to
drink
go
far—
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
thyself,
and
us
relieve
With
food,
whereof
we
wretched
seldom
taste."
He
ended,
and
the
Son
of
God
replied:—
"Think'st
thou
such
force
in
bread?
Is
it
not
written
(For
I
discern
thee
other
than
thou
seem'st),
Man
lives
not
by
bread
only,
but
each
word
Proceeding
from
the
mouth
of
God,
who
fed
Our
fathers
here
with
manna?
In
the
Mount
Moses
was
forty
days,
nor
eat
nor
drank;
And
forty
days
Eliah
without
food
Wandered
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
answered
the
Arch-Fiend,
now
undisguised:—
"'Tis
true,
I
am
that
Spirit
unfortunate
Who,
leagued
with
millions
more
in
rash
revolt,
Kept
not
my
happy
station,
but
was
driven
With
them
from
bliss
to
the
bottomless
Deep—
Yet
to
that
hideous
place
not
so
confined
By
rigour
unconniving
but
that
oft,
Leaving
my
dolorous
prison,
I
enjoy
Large
liberty
to
round
this
globe
of
Earth,
Or
range
in
the
Air;
nor
from
the
Heaven
of
Heavens
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
proposed
To
draw
the
proud
king
Ahab
into
fraud,
That
he
might
fall
in
Ramoth,
they
demurring,
I
undertook
that
office,
and
the
tongues
Of
all
his
flattering
prophets
glibbed
with
lies
To
his
destruction,
as
I
had
in
charge:
For
what
he
bids
I
do.
Though
I
have
lost
Much
lustre
of
my
native
brightness,
lost
To
be
beloved
of
God,
I
have
not
lost
To
love,
at
least
contemplate
and
admire,
What
I
see
excellent
in
good,
or
fair,
Or
virtuous;
I
should
so
have
lost
all
sense.
What
can
be
then
less
in
me
than
desire
To
see
thee
and
approach
thee,
whom
I
know
Declared
the
Son
of
God,
to
hear
attent
Thy
wisdom,
and
behold
thy
godlike
deeds?
Men
generally
think
me
much
a
foe
To
all
mankind.
Why
should
I?
they
to
me
Never
did
wrong
or
violence.
By
them
I
lost
not
what
I
lost;
rather
by
them
I
gained
what
I
have
gained,
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
woe!
At
first
it
may
be;
but,
long
since
with
woe
Nearer
acquainted,
now
I
feel
by
proof
That
fellowship
in
pain
divides
not
smart,
Nor
lightens
aught
each
man's
peculiar
load;
Small
consolation,
then,
were
Man
adjoined.
This
wounds
me
most
(what
can
it
less?)
that
Man,
Man
fallen,
shall
be
restored,
I
never
more."
To
whom
our
Saviour
sternly
thus
replied:—
"Deservedly
thou
griev'st,
composed
of
lies
From
the
beginning,
and
in
lies
wilt
end,
Who
boast'st
release
from
Hell,
and
leave
to
come
Into
the
Heaven
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
deposed,
Ejected,
emptied,
gazed,
unpitied,
shunned,
A
spectacle
of
ruin,
or
of
scorn,
To
all
the
host
of
Heaven.
The
happy
place
Imparts
to
thee
no
happiness,
no
joy—
Rather
inflames
thy
torment,
representing
Lost
bliss,
to
thee
no
more
communicable;
So
never
more
in
Hell
than
when
in
Heaven.
But
thou
art
serviceable
to
Heaven's
King!
Wilt
thou
impute
to
obedience
what
thy
fear
Extorts,
or
pleasure
to
do
ill
excites?
What
but
thy
malice
moved
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
liar
in
four
hundred
mouths;
For
lying
is
thy
sustenance,
thy
food.
Yet
thou
pretend'st
to
truth!
all
oracles
By
thee
are
given,
and
what
confessed
more
true
Among
the
nations?
That
hath
been
thy
craft,
By
mixing
somewhat
true
to
vent
more
lies.
But
what
have
been
thy
answers?
what
but
dark,
Ambiguous,
and
with
double
sense
deluding,
Which
they
who
asked
have
seldom
understood,
And,
not
well
understood,
as
good
not
known?
Who
ever,
by
consulting
at
thy
shrine,
Returned
the
wiser,
or
the
more
instruct
To
fly
or
follow
what
concerned
him
most,
And
run
not
sooner
to
his
fatal
snare?
For
God
hath
justly
given
the
nations
up
To
thy
delusions;
justly,
since
they
fell
Idolatrous.
But,
when
his
purpose
is
Among
them
to
declare
his
providence,
To
thee
not
known,
whence
hast
thou
then
thy
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
thyself
ascrib'st
the
truth
foretold.
But
this
thy
glory
shall
be
soon
retrenched;
No
more
shalt
thou
by
oracling
abuse
The
Gentiles;
henceforth
oracles
are
ceased,
And
thou
no
more
with
pomp
and
sacrifice
Shalt
be
enquired
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,
Dissembled,
and
this
answer
smooth
returned:—
"Sharply
thou
hast
insisted
on
rebuke,
And
urged
me
hard
with
doings
which
not
will,
But
misery,
hath
wrested
from
me.
Where
Easily
canst
thou
find
one
miserable,
And
not
inforced
oft-times
to
part
from
truth,
If
it
may
stand
him
more
in
stead
to
lie,
Say
and
unsay,
feign,
flatter,
or
abjure?
But
thou
art
placed
above
me;
thou
art
Lord;
From
thee
I
can,
and
must,
submiss,
endure
Cheek
or
reproof,
and
glad
to
scape
so
quit.
Hard
are
the
ways
of
truth,
and
rough
to
walk,
Smooth
on
the
tongue
discoursed,
pleasing
to
the
ear,
And
tunable
as
sylvan
pipe
or
song;
What
wonder,
then,
if
I
delight
to
hear
Her
dictates
from
thy
mouth?
most
men
admire
Virtue
who
follow
not
her
lore.
Permit
me
To
hear
thee
when
I
come
(since
no
man
comes),
And
talk
at
least,
though
I
despair
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
voutsafed
his
voice
To
Balaam
reprobate,
a
prophet
yet
Inspired:
disdain
not
such
access
to
me."
To
whom
our
Saviour,
with
unaltered
brow:—
"Thy
coming
hither,
though
I
know
thy
scope,
I
bid
not,
or
forbid.
Do
as
thou
find'st
Permission
from
above;
thou
canst
not
more."
He
added
not;
and
Satan,
bowling
low
His
gray
dissimulation,
disappeared,
Into
thin
air
diffused:
for
now
began
Night
with
her
sullen
wing
to
double-shade
The
desert;
fowls
in
their
clay
nests
were
couched;
And
now
wild
beasts
came
forth
the
woods
to
roam.
