Confufion heard his voice, and wild Uproar Stood rul'd, stood vast infinitude confin'd; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shon, and order from diforder sprung: Swift to their several quarters hasted then The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire, And this ethereal quintessence of heav'n Flew upward, spirited with various forms, That rowl'd orbicular, and turn'd to starrs Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move; Each had his place appointed, each his course, The rest in circuit walles this universe. Look downward on that globe whose hither fide With light from hence, though but reflected, shines; That place is earth the feat of man, that light His day, which else as th'other hemisphere Night would invade, but there the neighbouring moon (So call that opposite fair starr) her aide Timely interposes, and her monthly round Still ending, still renewing through mid heav'n, 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 Paradife, Adam's abode, those loftie shades his bowre. Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires. Thus said, he turn'd, and Satan bowing low, As to fuperior fpirits is wont in heav'n, Where honour due and reverence none neglects, Took leave, and toward the coast of earth beneath, Down from th'ecliptic, sped with hop'd success,
Throws his steep flight in many an aerie wheele, Nor staid, till on Niphates top he lights.
The End of the Third Book.
FOR that warning voice, which he who saw
Th'Apocalyps, heard cry in heaven aloud,
Then when the dragon, put to second rout,
Came furious down to be reveng'd on men,
"Woe to the inhabitants on earth!" that now,
While time was, our first parents had been warn'd
The coming of their secret foe, and scap'd
Haply so scap'd his mortal snare; for now
Satan, now first inflam'd with rage, came down.
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 boaft,
Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth
Now rolling, boiles in his tumultuous brest,
And like a devilish engine back recoiles
Upon himself; horror and doubt distract
His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stirr
The hell within him, for within him hell
He brings, and round about him, nor from hell
One step no more then from himself can fly
By change of place: now confcience wakes despair
That slumber'd, wakes the bitter memorie
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
Worse; of worse deeds worse fufferings must ensue,
Sometimes towards Eden which now in his view
Lay pleasant, his griev'd look he fixes sad,
Sometimes towards heav'n and the full-blazing fun,
Which now fat high in his meridian towre:
Then much revolving, thus in fighs began.
O thou that with surpassing glory crown'd,
Look'ft from thy fole dominion like the God
Of this new world; at whose fight all the stars
Hide their diminisht heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name
O fun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy spheare;
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down
Warring in heav'n against heav'n's matchless king:
Ah wherefore! he deferv'd no fuch return
From me, whom he created what I was
In that bright eminence, and with his good
Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.
What could be less than to afford him praise,
The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks,
How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me,
And wrought but malice; lifted up so high
I sdein'd subjection, and thought one step higher
Would fet me highest, and in a moment quit
The debt immense of endless gratitude,
So burthensome, still paying, still to owe;
Forgetful what from him I still receiv'd,
And understood not that a grateful mind
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
Indebted and discharg'd; what burden then?
O had his powerful destiny ordain'd
Me some inferior angel, I had stood
Then happie; no unbounded hope had rais'd
Ambition. Yet why not? some other power
As great might have aspir'd, and me though mean
Drawn to his part; but other powers as great
■ Fell not, but stand unshak'n, from within
Or from without, to all temptations arm'd.
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 accurst, since love or hate,
To me alike, it deals eternal woe.
Nay curs'd be thou; since against his thy will
Chose freely what it now so justly rues.
Me miferable! which way shall I fiie
Infinite wrath, and infinite despaire ?
Which way I fie is hell; myself am hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep
Still threatning to devour me opens wide,
To which the hell I fuffer seems a heav'n.
O then at last relent: is there no place
Left for repentance, none for pardon left ?
None left but by fubmiffion; and that word
• Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame
Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduc'd
With other promises and other vaunts
Then to submit, boasting I could fubdue
Th'Omnipotent. Ay me, they little know
How dearly I abide that boast so vain,
Under what torments inwardly I groane:
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