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

Admonisht by his eare, and strait was known

Th’ Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the seav’n

Who in God’s 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 Gods 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 only 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 Che fraudulent Impostor foule

In his uprightness answer thus returnd.

Faire 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 heare 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 the 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 Heav’n,

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.

Toward the coast of Earth beneath, Down from th’ Ecliptic, sped with hop’d success, Throws his steep flight in many an Aerie wheele

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