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 breastplate, 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, In vain, though by their powerful art they bind Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, Drain'd through a limbeck to his native form. What wonder then if fields and regions here Breathe forth elixir pure; and rivers run Potable gold, when with one virtuous touch The archchemic sun, so far from us remote, Produces, with terrestrial humor mix'd, Here in the dark so many precious things Of color glorious and effect so rare? Here matter new to gaze the Devil met Undazzled; far and wide his eye commands, For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, But all sunshine, as when his beams at noon Culminate from the equator, as they now Shot upward still direct, whence no way round Shadow from body opaque can fall; and the air, No where so clear, sharpen'd his visual ray To objects distant far, whereby he soon Saw within ken a glorious Angel stand, The same whom John saw also in the sun:
His back was turn'd, but not his brightness hid; Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar
Circled his head, nor less his locks behind
Illustrious on his shoulders fledge with wings Lay waving round; on some great charge employ'd He seem'd, or fix'd in cogitation deep.
Glad was the Spirit impure, as now in hope
To find who might direct his wandering flight To Paradise, the happy seat of Man, His journey's end and our beginning woe. But first he casts to change his proper shape, Which else might work him danger or delay: And now a stripling Cherub he appears, Not of the prime, yet such as in his face Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb Suitable grace diffused, so well he feign'd: Under a coronet his flowing hair
In curls on either cheek play'd; wings he wore
Of many a color'd plume, sprinkled with gold; His habit fit for speed succinct, and held Before his decent steps a silver wand.
He drew not nigh unheard; the Angel bright, Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turn'd, Admonish'd by his ear, and straight was known The Archangel Uriel, one of the seven
Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, Stand ready at command, and are his eyes
That run through all the Heavens, or down to the Earth Bear his swift errands over moist and dry,
O'er sea and land: him Satan thus accosts:
Uriel, for thou of those seven Spirits that stand
In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, 655 The first art wont his great authentic will, Interpreter through highest Heaven to bring, Where all his sons thy embassy attend; And here art likeliest by supreme decree Like honor 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 favor, him for whom All these his works so wondrous he ordain'd, Hath brought me from the choirs of Cherubim Alone thus wandering. Brightest Seraph, tell In which of all these shining orbs hath Man His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none, But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell; That I may find him, and with secret gaze Or open admiration him behold,
On whom the great Creator hath bestowed
Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces pour'd; That both in him and all things, as is meet, The universal Maker we may praise; Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes To deepest Hell, and, to repair that loss, Created this new happy race of Men To serve him better: Wise are all his ways. So spake the false dissembler un perceived; For neither Man nor Angels can discern Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks
Invisible, except to God alone,
By his permissive will, through Heaven and Earth 685 And oft, though Wisdom wake, Suspicion sleeps At Wisdom's gate, and to Simplicity
Resigns her charge, while Goodness thinks no ill Where no ill seems; which now for once beguiled Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held The sharpest sighted Spirit of all in Heaven; Who to the fraudulent impostor foul, In his uprightness, answer thus return'd:
Fair Angel, thy desire, which tends to know The works of God, thereby to glorify The great Workmaster, 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, 700 Contented with report, hear only in Heaven:
For wonderful indeed are all his works, Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all Had in remembrance always with delight; But what creative mind can comprehend Their number, or the wisdom infinite That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep I saw when at his word the formless mass, This world's material mould, came to a heap: Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shone, and order from disorder sprung: Swift to their several quarters hasted then The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire;
And this etherial quintessence of Heaven
Flew upward, spirited with various forms, That roll'd orbicular, and turn'd to stars
Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move. Each had his place appointed, each his course; The rest in circuit walls 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 the other hemisphere, Night would invade; but there the neighboring moon (So call that opposite fair star) her aid Timely interposes, and her monthly round Still ending, still renewing, through mid Heaven, With borrow'd 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,
Adam's abode; those lofty shades, his bower.
Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires. 735 Thus said, he turn'd; and Satan, bowing low,
As to Superior Spirits is wont in Heaven, Where honor due and reverence none neglects, Took leave, and toward the coast of earth beneath, Down from the ecliptic, sped with hoped success, 740 Throws his steep flight in many an aery wheel; Nor staid, till on Niphates' top he lights.
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