John Milton - Paradise Lost and Its Sequel, Paradise Regained (Illustrated Edition)

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.

and many more too long, Embryos, and Idiots, Eremits and Friers

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 their 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; hee 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,

Embryos, 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 of

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 hee 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 alwaies, 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