Whom else no creature can behold: on thee Impress'd 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 extoll'd, Son of thy Father's might, To execute fierce vengeance on his foes;
Not so on man: him, through their malice fall'n, 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 discern'd, Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat Second to thee, offer'd 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 harp 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.
Meanwhile, upon the firm opacous globe
Of this round world, whose first convex divides The luminous inferior orbs, enclosed
From Chaos, and the inroad of darkness old, Satan alighted walks: a globe far off
It seem'd, now seems a boundless continent, Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night Starless, exposed, and ever-threat'ning 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 vex'd with tempest loud: Here walked the fiend at large in spacious field. As when a vulture, on Imaüs bred, Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, Dislodging from a region scarce of prey,
Το gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids, On hills where flocks are fed, flies towards 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 wagons light: So, on this windy sea of land, the fiend Walk'd 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 aërial vapours, flew Of all things transitory and vain, when sin With vanity had fill'd 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 unaccomplish'd works of Nature's hand, Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mix'd, Dissolved on earth, fleet hither, and in vain, Till final dissolution, wander here:
Not in the neighbouring moon, as some have dream'd;
Those argent fields, more likely habitants, Translated saints, or middle spirits, hold, Betwixt the angelical and human kind. Hither, of ill-join'd sons and daughters born, First from the ancient world those giants came, With many a vain exploit, though then renown'd: 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 deem'd A god, leap'd fondly into Ætna flames, Empedocles; and he who, to enjoy Plato's Elysium, leap'd 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 stray'd 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 Dominic,
Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised; They pass the planets seven, and pass the fix'd, And that crystalline sphere whose balance weighs The trepidation talk'd, 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 flutter'd into rags; then relics, beads, Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls,
The sport of winds: all these, upwhirl'd alof., Fly o'er the backside of the world far off, Into a limbo large and broad, since call'd The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown Long after, now unpeopled, and untrod. All this dark globe the fiend found as he pass'd, And long he wander'd, till at last a gleam Of dawning light turn'd thitherward in haste His travell❜d 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, appear'd The work as of a kingly palace-gate, With frontispiece of diamond and gold Embellish'd; thick with sparkling orient gems The portal shone, 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 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 flow'd Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon
Who after came from earth, sailing 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 open'd 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 Pass'd frequent, and his eye with choice regard From Paneas, the fount of Jordan's flood, To Beërsaba, where the Holy Land Borders on Egypt and the Arabian shore;
So wide the opening seem'd, where bounds were set To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave.
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