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! Thee, Author of all being,
Fountain 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
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 disarray'd.
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-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 vex'd with tempest loud:
Here walk'd the fiend at large in spacious field.
As when a vulture, 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 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 on 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; [dream'd;
Not in the neighbouring moon, as some have
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 Etna 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 passed 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, toss'd
And flutter'd into rags; then reliques, beads,
Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls,
The sport of winds: all these, upwhirl'd aloft,
Fly o'er the back side 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 passed;
And long he wander'd, till at last, a gleam
Of dawning light turn'd thither-ward 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.
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 and desert ways, with peril gone
All night, at last 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 renown'd metropolis,
With glistering spires, and pinnacles adorn'd
Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams.
Such wonder seized, though after Heaven seen.
The spirit malign; but much more envy seize
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 Atlantic 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, seem'd other worlds ⚫
Or other worlds they seem'd, 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 splendor likest Heaven,
Allured his eye: thither his course he bends,
Through the calm firmament; but up or down,
By centre or eccentric, 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 [lamp
Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering
Turn swift their various motions, or are turn'd
By his magnetic beam, that gently warms
The universe, and to each inward part,
With gentle penetration, though unseen,
Shoots invisible virtue, even to the deep:
So wondrously was set his station bright.
There lands the fiend, a spot like which, perhaps,
Astronomer in the sun's lucent orb,
Through his glazed optic 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 inform'd,
With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire;
If metal, part seem'd 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;
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