The Complete Poems (Penguin Classics)

  To Paradise the happy seat of man,

  His journey’s end and our beginning woe.

  But first he casts to change his proper shape,

  635 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 feigned;

  640 Under a coronet his flowing hair

  In curls on either cheek played, wings he wore

  Of many a coloured plume sprinkled with gold,

  His habit fit for speed succinct, and held

  Before his decent steps a silver wand.

  645 He drew not nigh unheard, the angel bright,

  Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turned,

  Admonished by his ear, and straight was known

  Th’ Archangel Uriel, one of the seven

  Who in God’s presence, nearest to his throne

  650 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 sev’n Spirits that stand

  655 In sight of God’s high throne, gloriously bright,

  The first art wont his great authentic will

  Interpreter through highest Heav’n to bring,

  Where all his sons thy embassy attend;

  And here art likeliest by supreme decree

  660 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

  665 All these his works so wondrous he ordained,

  Hath brought me from the choirs of Cherubim

  Alone thus wand’ring. Brightest Seraph tell

  In which of all these shining orbs hath man

  His fixèd seat, or fixèd seat hath none,

  670 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 poured;

  675 That both in him and all things, as is meet,

  The Universal Maker we may praise;

  Who justly hath driv’n out his rebel foes

  To deepest Hell, and to repair that loss

  Created this new happy race of men

  680 To serve him better: wise are all his ways.

  So spake the false dissembler unperceived;

  For neither man nor angel can discern

  Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks

  Invisible, except to God alone,

  685 By his permissive will, through Heav’n and earth:

  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

  690 Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held

  The sharpest sighted Spirit of all in Heav’n;

  Who to the fraudulent impostor foul

  In his uprightness answer thus returned.

  Fair angel, thy desire which tends to know

  695 The works of God, thereby to glorify

  The great Work-Master, 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,

  700 To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps

  Contented with report hear only in Heav’n:

  For wonderful indeed are all his works,

  Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all

  Had in remembrance always with delight;

  705 But what created 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:

  710 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

  715 The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire

  And this ethereal quíntessence of heav’n

  Flew upward, spirited with various forms,

  That rolled orbicular, and turned to stars

  Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move;

  720 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

  725 His day, which else as th’ other hemisphere

  Night would invade, but there the neighbouring moon

  (So call that opposite fair star) her aid

  Timely interposes, and her monthly round

  Still ending, still renewing, through mid heav’n,

  730 With borrowed light her countenance triform

  Hence fills and empties to enlighten th’ 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.

  735 Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires.

  Thus said, he turned, 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,

  740 Down from th’ ecliptic, sped with hoped success,

  Throws his steep flight in many an airy wheel,

  Nor stayed, till on Niphates’ top he lights.

  BOOK IV

  The Argument

  Satan now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he

  must now attempt the bold enterprise which he undertook

  alone against God and man, falls into many doubts with

  himself, and many passions, fear, envy, and despair; but at

  5 length confirms himself in evil, journeys on to Paradise, whose

  outward prospect and situation is described, overleaps the

  bounds, sits in the shape of a cormorant on the Tree of Life,

  as highest in the garden to look about him. The garden

  described; Satan’s first sight of Adam and Eve; his wonder at

  10 their excellent form and happy state, but with resolution to

  work their Fall; overhears their discourse, thence gathers that

  the Tree of Knowledge was forbidden them to eat of, under

  penalty of death; and thereon intends to found his Temptation,

  by seducing them to transgress: then leaves them a while, to

  15 know further of their state by some other means. Meanwhile

  Uriel descending on a sunbeam warns Gabriel, who had in

  charge the gate of Paradise, that some evil Spirit had escaped

  the deep, and passed at noon by his sphere in the shape of a

  good angel down to Paradise, discovered after by his furious

  20 gestures in the mount. Gabriel promises to find him ere

  morning. Night coming on, Adam and Eve, discourse of going

  to their rest: their bower described; their evening worship.

  Gabriel drawing forth his bands of night-watch to walk the

  round of Paradise, appoints two strong angels to Adam’s
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  25 bower, lest the evil spirit should be there doing some harm

  to Adam or Eve sleeping; there they find him at the ear of Eve,

  tempting her in a dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to

  Gabriel; by whom questioned, he scornfully answers, prepares

  resistance, but hindered by a sign from Heaven, flies out of

  30 Paradise.

  O for that warning voice, which he who saw

  Th’ Apocalypse, heard cry in Heav’n aloud,

  Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,

  Came furious down to be revenged on men,

  5 Woe to the inhabitants on earth! that now,

  While time was, our first parents had been warned

  The coming of their secret foe, and ’scaped

  Haply so ’scaped his mortal snare; for now

  Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down,

  10 The Tempter ere th’ Accuser of mankind,

  To wreck on innocent frail man his loss

  Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell:

  Yet not rejoicing in his speed, though bold,

  Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast,

  15 Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth

  Now rolling, boils in his tumultuous breast,

  And like a devilish engine back recoils

  Upon himself; horror and doubt distract

  His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir

  20 The Hell within him, for within him Hell

  He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell

  One step no more than from himself can fly

  By change of place: now conscience wakes despair

  That slumbered, wakes the bitter memory

  25 Of what he was, what is, and what must be

  Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.

  Sometimes towards Eden which now in his view

  Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad,

  Sometimes towards heav’n and the full-blazing sun,

  30 Which now sat high in his meridian tower:

  Then much revolving, thus in sighs began.

  O thou that with surpassing glory crowned,

  Look’st from thy sole dominion like the God

  Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars

  35 Hide their diminished heads; to thee I call,

  But with no friendly voice, and add thy name

  O sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams

  That bring to my remembrance from what state

  I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere;

  40 Till pride and worse ambition threw me down

  Warring in Heav’n against Heav’n’s matchless King:

  Ah wherefore! he deserved no such return

  From me, whom he created what I was

  In that bright eminence, and with his good

  45 Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.

  What could be less than to afford him praise,

  The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks,

  How due! Yet all his good proved ill in me,

  And wrought but malice; lifted up so high

  50 I ’sdained subjection, and thought one step higher

  Would set me highest, and in a moment quit

  The debt immense of endless gratitude,

  So burdensome, still paying, still to owe;

  Forgetful what from him I still received,

  55 And understood not that a grateful mind

  By owing owes not, but still pays, at once

  Indebted and discharged; what burden then?

  O had his powerful destiny ordained

  Me some inferior angel, I had stood

  60 Then happy; no unbounded hope had raised

  Ambition. Yet why not? Some other Power

  As great might have aspired, and me though mean

  Drawn to his part; but other Powers as great

  Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within

  65 Or from without, to all temptations armed.

  Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand?

  Thou hadst: whom hast thou then or what to accuse,

  But Heav’n’s free love dealt equally to all?

  Be then his love accursed, since love or hate,

  70 To me alike, it deals eternal woe.

  Nay cursed be thou; since against his thy will

  Chose freely what it now so justly rues.

  Me miserable! Which way shall I fly

  Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?

  75 Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;

  And in the lowest deep a lower deep

  Still threat’ning to devour me opens wide,

  To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heav’n.

  O then at last relent: is there no place

  80 Left for repentance, none for pardon left?

  None left but by submission; and that word

  Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame

  Among the Spirits beneath, whom I seduced

  With other promises and other vaunts

  85 Than to submit, boasting I could subdue

  Th’ Omnipotent. Ay me, they little know

  How dearly I abide that boast so vain,

  Under what torments inwardly I groan;

  While they adore me on the throne of Hell,

  90 With diadem and sceptre high advanced

  The lower still I fall, only supreme

  In misery; such joy ambition finds.

  But say I could repent and could obtain

  By act of grace my former state; how soon

  95 Would heighth recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

  What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

  Vows made in pain, as violent and void.

  For never can true reconcilement grow

  Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

  100 Which would but lead me to a worse relapse

  And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

  Short intermission bought with double smart.

  This knows my punisher; therefore as far

  From granting he, as I from begging peace:

  105 All hope excluded thus, behold instead

  Of us outcást, exíled, his new delight,

  Mankind created, and for him this world.

  So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,

  Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost;

  110 Evil be thou my good; by thee at least

  Divided empire with Heav’n’s King I hold

  By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign;

  As man ere long, and this new world shall know.

  Thus while he spake, each passion dimmed his face

  115 Thrice changed with pale, ire, envy and despair,

  Which marred his borrowed visage, and betrayed

  Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld.

  For Heav’nly minds from such distempers foul

  Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware,

  120 Each perturbation smoothed with outward calm,

  Artificer of fraud; and was the first

  That practised falsehood under saintly show,

  Deep malice to conceal, couched with revenge:

  Yet not enough had practised to deceive

  125 Uriel once warned; whose eye pursued him down

  The way he went, and on th’ Assyrian mount

  Saw him disfigured, more than could befall

  Spirit of happy sort: his gestures fierce

  He marked and mad demeanour, then alone,

  130 As he supposed, all unobserved, unseen.

  So on he fares, and to the border comes

  Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,

  Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green,

  As with a rural mound the champaign head

  135 Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides

  With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild,


  Access denied; and overhead up grew

  Insuperable heighth of loftiest shade,

  Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm,

  140 A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend

  Shade above shade, a woody theatre

  Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops

  The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung:

  Which to our general sire gave prospect large

  145 Into his nether empire neighbouring round.

  And higher than that wall a circling row

  Of goodliest trees loaden with fairest fruit,

  Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue

  Appeared, with gay enamelled colours mixed:

  150 On which the sun more glad impressed his beams

  Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow,

  When God hath show’red the earth; so lovely seemed

  That landscape: and of pure now purer air

  Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires

  155 Vernal delight and joy, able to drive

  All sadness but despair: now gentle gales

  Fanning their odoriferous wings dispense

  Native perfumes and whisper whence they stole

  Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail

  160 Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past

  Mozámbique, off at sea northeast winds blow

  Sabéan odours from the spicy shore

  Of Araby the blest, with such delay

  Well pleased they slack their course, and many a league

  165 Cheered with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles.

  So entertained those odorous sweets the Fiend

  Who came their bane, though with them better pleased

  Than Asmodéus with the fishy fume,

  That drove him, though enamoured, from the spouse

  170 Of Tobit’s son, and with a vengeance sent

  From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound.

  Now to th’ ascent of that steep savage hill

  Satan had journeyed on, pensive and slow;

  But further way found none, so thick entwined,

  175 As one continued brake, the undergrowth

  Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplexed

  All path of man or beast that passed that way:

  One gate there only was, and that looked east

  On th’ other side: which when th’ Arch-felon saw

  180 Due entrance he disdained, and in contempt,

  At one slight bound high overleaped all bound

  Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within

  Lights on his feet. As when a prowling wolf,

  Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey,

  185 Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve

  In hurdled cotes amid the field secure,

  Leaps o’er the fence with ease into the fold: