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Paradise Lost: Book 03

Written by: John Milton | Biography
 | Quotes (101) |
 Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn, 
Or of the Eternal coeternal beam 
May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light, 
And never but in unapproached light 
Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee 
Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 
Or hear"st thou rather pure ethereal stream, 
Whose fountain who shall tell? before the sun, 
Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice 
Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest *** 
The rising world of waters dark and deep, 
Won from the void and formless infinite. 
Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing, 
Escap'd the Stygian pool, though long detain'd 
In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight 
Through utter and through middle darkness borne, 
With other notes than to the Orphean lyre 
I sung of Chaos and eternal Night; 
Taught by the heavenly Muse to venture down 
The dark descent, and up to re-ascend, 
Though hard and rare: Thee I revisit safe, 
And feel thy sovran vital lamp; but thou 
Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain 
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn; 
So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs, 
Or dim suffusion veil'd. Yet not the more 
Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt, 
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 
Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief 
Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath, 
That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow, 
Nightly I visit: nor sometimes forget 
So were I equall'd with them in renown, 
Thy sovran command, that Man should find grace; 
Blind Thamyris, and blind Maeonides, 
And Tiresias, and Phineus, prophets old: 
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird 
Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid 
Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year 
Seasons return; but not to me returns 
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, 
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; 
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair 
Presented with a universal blank 
Of nature's works to me expung'd and ras'd, 
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 
So much the rather thou, celestial Light, 
Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 
Irradiate; there plant eyes, all mist from thence 
Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell 
Of things invisible to mortal sight. 
Now had the Almighty Father from above, 
From the pure empyrean where he sits 
High thron'd above all highth, bent down his eye 
His own works and their works at once to view: 
About him all the Sanctities of Heaven 
Stood thick as stars, and from his sight receiv'd 
Beatitude past utterance; on his right 
The radiant image of his glory sat, 
His only son; on earth he first beheld 
Our two first parents, yet the only two 
Of mankind in the happy garden plac'd 
Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love, 
Uninterrupted joy, unrivall'd love, 
In blissful solitude; he then survey'd 
Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there 
Coasting the wall of Heaven on this side Night 
In the dun air sublime, and ready now 
To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feet, 
On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd 
Firm land imbosom'd, without firmament, 
Uncertain which, in ocean or in air. 
Him God beholding from his prospect high, 
Wherein past, present, future, he beholds, 
Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake. 
Only begotten Son, seest thou what rage 
Transports our Adversary? whom no bounds 
Prescrib'd no bars of Hell, nor all the chains 
Heap'd on him there, nor yet the main abyss 
Wide interrupt, can hold; so bent he seems 
On desperate revenge, that shall redound 
Upon his own rebellious head. And now, 
Through all restraint broke loose, he wings his way 
Not far off Heaven, in the precincts of light, 
Directly towards the new created world, 
And man there plac'd, with purpose to assay 
If him by force he can destroy, or, worse, 
By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert; 
For man will hearken to his glozing lies, 
And easily transgress the sole command, 
Sole pledge of his obedience: So will fall 
He and his faithless progeny: Whose fault? 
Whose but his own? ingrate, he had of me 
All he could have; I made him just and right, 
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. 
Such I created all the ethereal Powers 
And Spirits, both them who stood, and them who fail'd; 
Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. 
Not free, what proof could they have given sincere 
Of true allegiance, constant faith or love, 
Where only what they needs must do appear'd, 
Not what they would? what praise could they receive? 
What pleasure I from such obedience paid, 
When will and reason (reason also is choice) 
Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil'd, 
Made passive both, had serv'd necessity, 
Not me? they therefore, as to right belong$ 'd, 
So were created, nor can justly accuse 
Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, 
As if predestination over-rul'd 
Their will dispos'd by absolute decree 
Or high foreknowledge they themselves decreed 
Their own revolt, not I; if I foreknew, 
Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, 
Which had no less proved certain unforeknown. 
So without least impulse or shadow of fate, 
Or aught by me immutably foreseen, 
They trespass, authors to themselves in all 
Both what they judge, and what they choose; for so 
I form'd them free: and free they must remain, 
Till they enthrall themselves; I else must change 
Their nature, and revoke the high decree 
Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd 
$THeir freedom: they themselves ordain'd their fall. 
The first sort by their own suggestion fell, 
Self-tempted, self-deprav'd: Man falls, deceiv'd 
By the other first: Man therefore shall find grace, 
The other none: In mercy and justice both, 
Through Heaven and Earth, so shall my glory excel; 
But Mercy, first and last, shall brightest shine. 
Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd 
All Heaven, and in the blessed Spirits elect 
Sense of new joy ineffable diffus'd. 
Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
Most glorious; in him all his Father shone 
Substantially express'd; and in his face 
Divine compassion visibly appear'd, 
Love without end, and without measure grace, 
Which uttering, thus he to his Father spake. 
O Father, gracious was that word which clos'd 
Thy sovran command, that Man should find grace; 
, that Man should find grace; 
For which both Heaven and earth shall high extol 
Thy praises, with the innumerable sound 
Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne 
Encompass'd shall resound thee ever blest. 
For should Man finally be lost, should Man, 
Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest son, 
Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join'd 
With his own folly? that be from thee far, 
That far be from thee, Father, who art judge 
Of all things made, and judgest only right. 
Or shall the Adversary thus obtain 
His end, and frustrate thine? shall he fulfill 
His malice, and thy goodness bring to nought, 
Or proud return, though to his heavier doom, 
Yet with revenge accomplish'd, and to Hell 
Draw after him the whole race of mankind, 
By him corrupted? or wilt thou thyself 
Abolish thy creation, and unmake 
For him, what for thy glory thou hast made? 
So should thy goodness and thy greatness both 
Be question'd and blasphem'd without defence. 
To whom the great Creator thus replied. 
O son, in whom my soul hath chief delight, 
Son of my bosom, Son who art alone. 
My word, my wisdom, and effectual might, 
All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all 
As my eternal purpose hath decreed; 
Man shall not quite be lost, but sav'd who will; 
Yet not of will in him, but grace in me 
Freely vouchsaf'd; once more I will renew 
His lapsed powers, though forfeit; and enthrall'd 
By sin to foul exorbitant desires; 
Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand 
On even ground against his mortal foe; 
By me upheld, that he may know how frail 
His fallen condition is, and to me owe 
All his deliverance, and to none but me. 
Some I have chosen of peculiar grace, 
Elect above the rest; so is my will: 
The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warn'd 
Their sinful state, and to appease betimes 
The incensed Deity, while offer'd grace 
Invites; for I will clear their senses dark, 
What may suffice, and soften stony hearts 
To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. 
To prayer, repentance, and obedience due, 
Though but endeavour'd with sincere intent, 
Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut. 
And I will place within them as a guide, 
My umpire Conscience; whom if they will hear, 
Light after light, well us'd, they shall attain, 
And to the end, persisting, safe arrive. 
This my long sufferance, and my day of grace, 
They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste; 
But hard be harden'd, blind be blinded more, 
That they may stumble on, and deeper fall; 
And none but such from mercy I exclude. 
But yet all is not done; Man disobeying, 
Disloyal, breaks his fealty, and sins 
Against the high supremacy of Heaven, 
Affecting God-head, and, so losing all, 
To expiate his treason hath nought left, 
But to destruction sacred and devote, 
He, with his whole posterity, must die, 
Die he or justice must; unless for him 
Some other able, and as willing, pay 
The rigid satisfaction, death for death. 
Say, heavenly Powers, where shall we find such love? 
Which of you will be mortal, to redeem 
Man's mortal crime, and just the unjust to save? 
Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear? 
And silence was in Heaven: $ on Man's behalf 
He ask'd, but all the heavenly quire stood mute, 
Patron or intercessour none appear'd, 
Much less that durst upon his own head draw 
The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
And now without redemption all mankind 
Must have been lost, adjudg'd to Death and Hell 
By doom severe, had not the Son of God, 
In whom the fulness dwells of love divine, 
His dearest mediation thus renew'd. 
Father, thy word is past, Man shall find grace; 
And shall grace not find means, that finds her way, 
The speediest of thy winged messengers, 
To visit all thy creatures, and to all 
Comes unprevented, unimplor'd, unsought? 
Happy for Man, so coming; he her aid 
Can never seek, once dead in sins, and lost; 
Atonement for himself, or offering meet, 
Indebted and undone, hath none to bring; 
Behold me then: me for him, life for life 
I offer: on me let thine anger fall; 
Account me Man; I for his sake will leave 
 Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee 
 Freely put off, and for him lastly die 
 Well pleased; on me let Death wreak all his rage. 
 Under his gloomy power I shall not long 
 Lie vanquished. Thou hast given me to possess 
 Life in myself for ever; by thee I live; 
 Though now to Death I yield, and am his due, 
 All that of me can die, yet, that debt paid, 
 $ thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave 
 His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul 
 For ever with corruption there to dwell; 
 But I shall rise victorious, and subdue 
 My vanquisher, spoiled of his vaunted spoil. 
 Death his death's wound shall then receive, and stoop 
 Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarmed; 
 I through the ample air in triumph high 
 Shall lead Hell captive maugre Hell, and show 
The powers of darkness bound. Thou, at the sight 
 Pleased, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile, 
 While, by thee raised, I ruin all my foes; 
 Death last, and with his carcase glut the grave; 
 Then, with the multitude of my redeemed, 
 Shall enter Heaven, long absent, and return, 
 Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud 
 Of anger shall remain, but peace assured 
 And reconcilement: wrath shall be no more 
 Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire. 
 His words here ended; but his meek aspect 
 Silent yet spake, and breathed immortal love 
 To mortal men, above which only shone 
 Filial obedience: as a sacrifice 
 Glad to be offered, he attends the will 
 Of his great Father. Admiration seized 
 All Heaven, what this might mean, and whither tend, 
 Wondering; but soon th' Almighty thus replied. 
 O thou in Heaven and Earth the only peace 
 Found out for mankind under wrath, O thou 
 My sole complacence! Well thou know'st how dear 
 To me are all my works; nor Man the least, 
 Though last created, that for him I spare 
 Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save, 
 By losing thee a while, the whole race lost. 

 Thou, therefore, whom thou only canst redeem, 
 Their nature also to thy nature join; 
 And be thyself Man among men on Earth, 
 Made flesh, when time shall be, of virgin seed, 
 By wondrous birth; be thou in Adam's room 
The head of all mankind, though Adam's son. 
As in him perish all men, so in thee, 
As from a second root, shall be restored 
As many as are restored, without thee none. 
His crime makes guilty all his sons; thy merit, 
Imputed, shall absolve them who renounce 
Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, 
And live in thee transplanted, and from thee 
Receive new life. So Man, as is most just, 
Shall satisfy for Man, be judged and die, 
And dying rise, and rising with him raise 
His brethren, ransomed with his own dear life. 
So heavenly love shall outdo hellish hate, 
Giving to death, and dying to redeem, 
So dearly to redeem what hellish hate 
So easily destroyed, and still destroys 
In those who, when they may, accept not grace. 
Nor shalt thou, by descending to assume 
Man's nature, lessen or degrade thine own. 
Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss 
Equal to God, and equally enjoying 
God-like fruition, quitted all, to save 
A world from utter loss, and hast been found 
By merit more than birthright Son of God, 
Found worthiest to be so by being good, 
Far more than great or high; because in thee 
Love hath abounded more than glory abounds; 
Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt 
With thee thy manhood also to this throne: 
Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign 
Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man, 
Anointed universal King; all power 
I give thee; reign for ever, and assume 
Thy merits; under thee, as head supreme, 
Thrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions, I reduce: 
All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide 
In Heaven, or Earth, or under Earth in Hell. 
When thou, attended gloriously from Heaven, 
Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send 
The summoning Arch-Angels to proclaim 
Thy dread tribunal; forthwith from all winds, 
The living, and forthwith the cited dead 
Of all past ages, to the general doom 
Shall hasten; such a peal shall rouse their sleep. 
Then, all thy saints assembled, thou shalt judge 
Bad Men and Angels; they, arraigned, shall sink 
Beneath thy sentence; Hell, her numbers full, 
Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Mean while 
The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring 
New Heaven and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell, 
And, after all their tribulations long, 
See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, 
With joy and peace triumphing, and fair truth. 
Then thou thy regal scepter shalt lay by, 
For regal scepter then no more shall need, 
God shall be all in all. But, all ye Gods, 
Adore him, who to compass all this dies; 
Adore the Son, and honour him as me. 
No sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all 
The multitude of Angels, with a shout 
Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 
As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heaven rung 
With jubilee, and loud Hosannas filled 
The eternal regions: Lowly reverent 
Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground 
With solemn adoration down they cast 
Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold; 
Immortal amarant, a flower which once 
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life, 
Began to bloom; but soon for man's offence 
To Heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows, 
And flowers aloft shading the fount of life, 
And where the river of bliss through midst of Heaven 
Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream; 
With these that never fade the Spirits elect 
Bind their resplendent locks inwreathed with beams; 
Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright 
Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 
Impurpled with celestial roses smiled. 
Then, crowned again, their golden harps they took, 
Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side 
Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet 
Of charming symphony they introduce 
Their sacred song, and waken raptures high; 
No voice exempt, no voice but well could join 
Melodious part, such concord is in Heaven. 
Thee, Father, first they sung Omnipotent, 
Immutable, Immortal, Infinite, 
Eternal King; the Author of all being, 
Fonntain of light, thyself invisible 
Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sit'st 
Throned inaccessible, but when thou shadest 
The full blaze of thy beams, and, through a cloud 
Drawn round about thee like a radiant shrine, 
Dark with excessive bright thy skirts appear, 
Yet dazzle Heaven, that brightest Seraphim 
Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. 
Thee next they sang of all creation first, 
Begotten Son, Divine Similitude, 
In whose conspicuous countenance, without cloud 
Made visible, the Almighty Father shines, 
Whom else no creature can behold; on thee 
Impressed the effulgence of his glory abides, 
Transfused on thee his ample Spirit rests. 
He Heaven of Heavens and all the Powers therein 
By thee created; and by thee threw down 
The aspiring Dominations: Thou that day 
Thy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare, 
Nor stop thy flaming chariot-wheels, that shook 
Heaven's everlasting frame, while o'er the necks 
Thou drovest of warring Angels disarrayed. 
Back from pursuit thy Powers with loud acclaim 
Thee only extolled, Son of thy Father's might, 
To execute fierce vengeance on his foes, 
Not so on Man: Him through their malice fallen, 
Father of mercy and grace, thou didst not doom 
So strictly, but much more to pity incline: 
No sooner did thy dear and only Son 
Perceive thee purposed not to doom frail Man 
So strictly, but much more to pity inclined, 
He to appease thy wrath, and end the strife 
Of mercy and justice in thy face discerned, 
Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat 
Second to thee, offered himself to die 
For Man's offence. O unexampled love, 
Love no where to be found less than Divine! 
Hail, Son of God, Saviour of Men! Thy name 
Shall be the copious matter of my song 
Henceforth, and never shall my heart thy praise 
Forget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin. 
Thus they in Heaven, above the starry sphere, 
Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. 
Mean while upon the firm opacous globe 
Of this round world, whose first convex divides 
The luminous inferiour orbs, enclosed 
From Chaos, and the inroad of Darkness old, 
Satan alighted walks: A globe far off 
It seemed, now seems a boundless continent 
Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night 
Starless exposed, and ever-threatening storms 
Of Chaos blustering round, inclement sky; 
Save on that side which from the wall of Heaven, 
Though distant far, some small reflection gains 
Of glimmering air less vexed with tempest loud: 
Here walked the Fiend at large in spacious field. 
As when a vultur on Imaus bred, 
Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, 
Dislodging from a region scarce of prey 
To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids, 
On hills where flocks are fed, flies toward the springs 
Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams; 
But in his way lights on the barren plains 
Of Sericana, where Chineses drive 
With sails and wind their cany waggons light: 
So, on this windy sea of land, the Fiend 
Walked up and down alone, bent on his prey; 
Alone, for other creature in this place, 
Living or lifeless, to be found was none; 
None yet, but store hereafter from the earth 
Up hither like aereal vapours flew 
Of all things transitory and vain, when sin 
With vanity had filled the works of men: 
Both all things vain, and all who in vain things 
Built their fond hopes of glory or lasting fame, 
Or happiness in this or the other life; 
All who have their reward on earth, the fruits 
Of painful superstition and blind zeal, 
Nought seeking but the praise of men, here find 
Fit retribution, empty as their deeds; 
All the unaccomplished works of Nature's hand, 
Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixed, 
Dissolved on earth, fleet hither, and in vain, 
Till final dissolution, wander here; 
Not in the neighbouring moon as some have dreamed; 
Those argent fields more likely habitants, 
Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold 
Betwixt the angelical and human kind. 
Hither of ill-joined sons and daughters born 
First from the ancient world those giants came 
With many a vain exploit, though then renowned: 
The builders next of Babel on the plain 
Of Sennaar, and still with vain design, 
New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build: 
Others came single; he, who, to be deemed 
A God, leaped fondly into Aetna flames, 
Empedocles; and he, who, to enjoy 
Plato's Elysium, leaped into the sea, 
Cleombrotus; and many more too long, 
Embryos, and idiots, eremites, and friars 
White, black, and gray, with all their trumpery. 
Here pilgrims roam, that strayed so far to seek 
In Golgotha him dead, who lives in Heaven; 
And they, who to be sure of Paradise, 
Dying, put on the weeds of Dominick, 
Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised; 
They pass the planets seven, and pass the fixed, 
And that crystalling sphere whose balance weighs 
The trepidation talked, and that first moved; 
And now Saint Peter at Heaven's wicket seems 
To wait them with his keys, and now at foot 
Of Heaven's ascent they lift their feet, when lo 
A violent cross wind from either coast 
Blows them transverse, ten thousand leagues awry 
Into the devious air: Then might ye see 
Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers, tost 
And fluttered into rags; then reliques, beads, 
Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, 
The sport of winds: All these, upwhirled aloft, 
Fly o'er the backside of the world far off 
Into a Limbo large and broad, since called 
The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown 
Long after; now unpeopled, and untrod. 
All this dark globe the Fiend found as he passed, 
And long he wandered, till at last a gleam 
Of dawning light turned thither-ward in haste 
His travelled steps: far distant he descries 
Ascending by degrees magnificent 
Up to the wall of Heaven a structure high; 
At top whereof, but far more rich, appeared 
The work as of a kingly palace-gate, 
With frontispiece of diamond and gold 
Embellished; thick with sparkling orient gems 
The portal shone, inimitable on earth 
By model, or by shading pencil, drawn. 
These stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw 
Angels ascending and descending, bands 
Of guardians bright, when he from Esau fled 
To Padan-Aram, in the field of Luz 
Dreaming by night under the open sky 
And waking cried, This is the gate of Heaven. 
Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 
There always, but drawn up to Heaven sometimes 
Viewless; and underneath a bright sea flowed 
Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon 
Who after came from earth, failing arrived 
Wafted by Angels, or flew o'er the lake 
Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. 
The stairs were then let down, whether to dare 
The Fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate 
His sad exclusion from the doors of bliss: 
Direct against which opened from beneath, 
Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise, 
A passage down to the Earth, a passage wide, 
Wider by far than that of after-times 
Over mount Sion, and, though that were large, 
Over the Promised Land to God so dear; 
By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, 
On high behests his angels to and fro 
Passed frequent, and his eye with choice regard 
From Paneas, the fount of Jordan's flood, 
To Beersaba, where the Holy Land 
Borders on Egypt and the Arabian shore; 
So wide the opening seemed, where bounds were set 
To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. 
Satan from hence, now on the lower stair, 
That scaled by steps of gold to Heaven-gate, 
Looks down with wonder at the sudden view 
Of all this world at once. As when a scout, 
Through dark?;nd desart ways with?oeril gone 
All?might,?;t?kast by break of cheerful dawn 
Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill, 
Which to his eye discovers unaware 
The goodly prospect of some foreign land 
First seen, or some renowned metropolis 
With glistering spires and pinnacles adorned, 
Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams: 
Such wonder seised, though after Heaven seen, 
The Spirit malign, but much more envy seised, 
At sight of all this world beheld so fair. 
Round he surveys (and well might, where he stood 
So high above the circling canopy 
Of night's extended shade,) from eastern point 
Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears 
Andromeda far off Atlantick seas 
Beyond the horizon; then from pole to pole 
He views in breadth, and without longer pause 
Down right into the world's first region throws 
His flight precipitant, and winds with ease 
Through the pure marble air his oblique way 
Amongst innumerable stars, that shone 
Stars distant, but nigh hand seemed other worlds; 
Or other worlds they seemed, or happy isles, 
Like those Hesperian gardens famed of old, 
Fortunate fields, and groves, and flowery vales, 
Thrice happy isles; but who dwelt happy there 
He staid not to inquire: Above them all 
The golden sun, in splendour likest Heaven, 
Allured his eye; thither his course he bends 
Through the calm firmament, (but up or down, 
By center, or eccentrick, hard to tell, 
Or longitude,) where the great luminary 
Aloof the vulgar constellations thick, 
That from his lordly eye keep distance due, 
Dispenses light from far; they, as they move 
Their starry dance in numbers that compute 
Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering lamp 
Turn swift their various motions, or are turned 
By his magnetick beam, that gently warms 
The universe, and to each inward part 
With gentle penetration, though unseen, 
Shoots invisible virtue even to the deep; 
So wonderously was set his station bright. 
There lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhaps 
Astronomer in the sun's lucent orb 
Through his glazed optick tube yet never saw. 
The place he found beyond expression bright, 
Compared with aught on earth, metal or stone; 
Not all parts like, but all alike informed 
With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire; 
If metal, part seemed gold, part silver clear; 
If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite, 
Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone 
In Aaron's breast-plate, and a stone besides 
Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen, 
That stone, or like to that which here below 
Philosophers in vain so long have sought, 
In vain, though by their powerful art they bind 
Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound 
In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, 
Drained through a limbeck to his native form. 
What wonder then if fields and regions here 
Breathe forth Elixir pure, and rivers run 
Potable gold, when with one virtuous touch 
The arch-chemick sun, so far from us remote, 
Produces, with terrestrial humour mixed, 
Here in the dark so many precious things 
Of colour glorious, and effect so rare? 
Here matter new to gaze the Devil met 
Undazzled; far and wide his eye commands; 
For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, 
But all sun-shine, as when his beams at noon 
Culminate from the equator, as they now 
Shot upward still direct, whence no way round 
Shadow from body opaque can fall; and the air, 
No where so clear, sharpened his visual ray 
To objects distant far, whereby he soon 
Saw within ken a glorious Angel stand, 
The same whom John saw also in the sun: 
His back was turned, but not his brightness hid; 
Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar 
Circled his head, nor less his locks behind 
Illustrious on his shoulders fledge with wings 
Lay waving round; on some great charge employed 
He seemed, or fixed in cogitation deep. 
Glad was the Spirit impure, as now in hope 
To find who might direct his wandering flight 
To Paradise, the happy seat of Man, 
His journey's end and our beginning woe. 
But first he casts to change his proper shape, 
Which else might work him danger or delay: 
And now a stripling Cherub he appears, 
Not of the prime, yet such as in his face 
Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb 
Suitable grace diffused, so well he feigned: 
Under a coronet his flowing hair 
In curls on either cheek played; wings he wore 
Of many a coloured plume, sprinkled with gold; 
His habit fit for speed succinct, and held 
Before his decent steps a silver wand. 
He drew not nigh unheard; the Angel bright, 
Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turned, 
Admonished by his ear, and straight was known 
The Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the seven 
Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, 
Stand ready at command, and are his eyes 
That run through all the Heavens, or down to the Earth 
Bear his swift errands over moist and dry, 
O'er sea and land: him Satan thus accosts. 
Uriel, for thou of those seven Spirits that stand 
In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, 
The first art wont his great authentick will 
Interpreter through highest Heaven to bring, 
Where all his sons thy embassy attend; 
And here art likeliest by supreme decree 
Like honour to obtain, and as his eye 
To visit oft this new creation round; 
Unspeakable desire to see, and know 
All these his wonderous works, but chiefly Man, 
His chief delight and favour, him for whom 
All these his works so wonderous he ordained, 
Hath brought me from the quires of Cherubim 
Alone thus wandering. Brightest Seraph, tell 
In which of all these shining orbs hath Man 
His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none, 
But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell; 
That I may find him, and with secret gaze 
Or open admiration him behold, 
On whom the great Creator hath bestowed 
Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces poured; 
That both in him and all things, as is meet, 
The universal Maker we may praise; 
Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes 
To deepest Hell, and, to repair that loss, 
Created this new happy race of Men 
To serve him better: Wise are all his ways. 
So spake the false dissembler unperceived; 
For neither Man nor Angel can discern 
Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks 
Invisible, except to God alone, 
By his permissive will, through Heaven and Earth: 
And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps 
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity 
Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill 
Where no ill seems: Which now for once beguiled 
Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held 
The sharpest-sighted Spirit of all in Heaven; 
Who to the fraudulent impostor foul, 
In his uprightness, answer thus returned. 
Fair Angel, thy desire, which tends to know 
The works of God, thereby to glorify 
The great Work-master, leads to no excess 
That reaches blame, but rather merits praise 
The more it seems excess, that led thee hither 
From thy empyreal mansion thus alone, 
To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps, 
Contented with report, hear only in Heaven: 
For wonderful indeed are all his works, 
Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all 
Had in remembrance always with delight; 
But what created mind can comprehend 
Their number, or the wisdom infinite 
That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep? 
I saw when at his word the formless mass, 
This world's material mould, came to a heap: 
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar 
Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; 
Till at his second bidding Darkness fled, 
Light shone, and order from disorder sprung: 
Swift to their several quarters hasted then 
The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire; 
And this ethereal quintessence of Heaven 
Flew upward, spirited with various forms, 
That rolled orbicular, and turned to stars 
Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move; 
Each had his place appointed, each his course; 
The rest in circuit walls this universe. 
Look downward on that globe, whose hither side 
With light from hence, though but reflected, shines; 
That place is Earth, the seat of Man; that light 
His day, which else, as the other hemisphere, 
Night would invade; but there the neighbouring moon 
So call that opposite fair star) her aid 
Timely interposes, and her monthly round 
Still ending, still renewing, through mid Heaven, 
With borrowed light her countenance triform 
Hence fills and empties to enlighten the Earth, 
And in her pale dominion checks the night. 
That spot, to which I point, is Paradise, 
Adam's abode; those lofty shades, his bower. 
Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires. 
Thus said, he turned; and Satan, bowing low, 
As to superiour Spirits is wont in Heaven, 
Where honour due and reverence none neglects, 
Took leave, and toward the coast of earth beneath, 
Down from the ecliptick, sped with hoped success, 
Throws his steep flight in many an aery wheel; 
Nor staid, till on Niphates' top he lights.



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