Immortal amarant, a flow'r which once
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life,
Began to bloom; but foon for man's offense
To Heav'n remov'd, where first it grew, there grows, And flow'rs aloft fhading the fount of life,
And where the riv'er of blifs through midst of Heaven Rolls o'er Elyfian flow'rs her amber stream;
With these that never fade the Spi'rits elect
360
Bind their resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams,
Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright
Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone,
Impurpled with celeftial rofes fmil'd.
Then crown'd again, their golden harps they took,
Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by their fide
Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet
Of charming fymphony they introduce
Their facred fong, and waken raptures high;
No voice exempt, no voice but well could join
Melodious part, fuch concord is in Heaven.
Thee, Father, firft they fung, Omnipotent,
Immutable, Immortal, Infinite,
Eternal King; thee Author of all being,
Fountain of light, thyself invisible
Amidst the glorious brightness where thou fit'ft
Thron'd inacceffible, but when thou fhad'st
The full blaze of thy beams, and through a cloud
Drawn round about thee like a radiant fhrine,
Dark with exceffive bright thy fkirts appear,
Yet dazle Heav'n, that brighteft Seraphim
Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes.
Thee next they fang of all creation first,
Begotten Son, Divine Similitude,
In whose confpicuous count'nance, without cloud 385
Made vifible, th' almighty Father fhines,
Whom else no creature can behold; on thee
Imprefs'd th' effulgence of his glory' abides,
Transfus'd on thee his ample Spirit rests.
He Heav'n of Heav'ns and all the Pow'rs therein 390
By thee created, and by thee drew down
Th' afpiring Dominations: thou that day
Thy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare,
Nor stop thy flaming chariot wheels, that shook
Heav'n's everlasting frame, while o'er the necks 395
Thou drov'ft of warring Angels difarray'd.
Back from pursuit thy Pow'rs with loud acclame
Thee only' extoll'd, Son of thy Father's might,
To execute fierce vengeance on his foes,
Not fo on Man: Him through their malice fall'n, 400
Father of mercy' and grace, thou didst not doom
So ftrictly, but much more to pity' incline:
No fooner did thy dear and only Son
Perceive thee purpos'd not to doom frail Man
So ftrictly, but much more to pity' inclin❜d,
He to appease thy wrath, and end the ftrife
Of mercy' and juftice in thy face difcern'd,
Regardless of the blifs wherein he fat
Second to thee, offer'd himself to die
For Man's offenfe. O unexampled love,
Love no where to be found lefs 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 Heav'n, above the starry sphere,
Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent.
Mean while upon the firm opacous globe
Of this round world, whofe first convex divides
The luminous inferior orbs inclos'd
From Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old,
Satan alighted walks: a globe far off
It seem'd, now feems a boundless continent
Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night
Starlefs expos'd, and ever-threatning storms
Of Chaos bluft'ring round, inclement sky;
Save on that fide which from the wall of Heaven,
Though diftant far, some small reflection gains
Of glimmering air less vex'd with tempest loud:
Here walk'd the Fiend at large in spacious field. 430
As when a vultur on Imaus bred,
Whose fnowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds,
Diflodging from a region scarce of prey
To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids
On hills where flocks are fed, flies tow'ard the springs
Of Ganges or Hydafpes, Indian ftreams;
But in his way lights on the barren plains
Of Sericana, where Chineses drive
With fails and wind their cany waggons light:
So on this windy fea of land, the Fiend
up and down alone, bent on his prey; Alone, for other creature in this place
Living or lifelefs to be found was none;
None yet, but store hereafter from the earth
Up hither like aereal vapours flew
Of all things tranfitory' and vain, when fin
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 lafting fame,
Or happiness in this or th' other life;
All who have their reward on earth, the fruits
Of painful fuperftition and blind zeal,
Nought feeking but the praise of men, here find
Fit retribution, empty as their deeds;
All th' unaccomplish'd works of Nature's hand, 455 Abortive, monftrous, or unkindly mix'd,
Diffolv'd on earth, fleet hither, and in vain,
Till final dissolution, wander here,
Not in the neighb'ring moon, as fome have dream'd;
Those argent fields more likely habitants,
Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold
Betwixt th' angelical and human kind.
Hither of ill-join'd fons and daughters born
First from the ancient world thofe 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 defign
New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build :
Others came fingle; he who to be deem'd
A God, leap'd fondly into Ætna flames,
Empedocles; and he who to enjoy
Plato's Elyfium, leap'd into the sea,
Cleombrotus; and many more too long,
Embryo's and idiots, eremites and friers
White, black, and gray, with all their trumpery. 475
Here pilgrims roam, that stray'd so far to feek
In Golgotha him dead, who lives in Heaven;
And they who, to be fure of Paradise,
Dying put on the weeds of Dominic,
Or in Franciscan think to pafs difguis'd;
They pafs the planets fev'n, and pass the fix'd,
And that crystallin sphere whose balance weighs
The trepidation talk'd, and that first mov'd;
And now Saint Peter at Heav'n's wicket feems
To wait them with his keys, and now at foot
A violent crofs wind from either coast
Of Heav'n's afcent they lift their feet, when lo
Blows them transverse ten thousand leagues awry
Into the devious air; then might ye fee
Cowls, hoods, and habits with their wearers toft 490
And flutter'd into rags, then reliques, beads,
Indulgences, difpenfes, pardons, bulls,
The sport of winds: all these upwhirl'd aloft
Fly o'er the backside of the world far off
Into a Limbo large and broad, fince call'd
The Paradife of Fools, to few unknown
Long after, now unpeopled, and untrod.
All this dark globe the Fiend found as he pafs'd,
And long he wander'd, till at last a gleam
Of dawning light turn'd thither-ward in hafte
His travel'd steps: far diftant he defcries
Afcending by degrees magnificent
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