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Bequest of Levi L. Barbour 4-19-R6

PARADISE LOST.

BOOK I.

The first Book proposes, first in brief, the whole subject, Man's dis obedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise wherein he was placed: Then touches the prime cause of bis Fall, the Serpent, or rather Satan in the Serpent; who, revolting from God, and drawing to his side many legions of Angels, was, by the com mand of God, driven out of Heaven, with all his crew, into the great deep. Which action passed over, the Poem hastens into the midst of things, presenting Satan with his Angels now falling into Hell, described here, not in the centre (for Heaven and Earth may be supposed as yet not made, certainly not yet accursed,) but in a place of utter darkness fitliest called Chaos: Here Satan with his Angels lying on the burning lake, thunderstruck and astonished, after a certain space recovers, as from confusion, calls up him who next in order and dignity lay by him; They confer of their miserable fall, Satan awakens all his legions, who lay till then in the same manner confounded. They rise; their numbers; array of battle; their chief leaders named, ac cording to the idols known afterwards in Canaan and the countries adjoining. To these Satan directs his speech, comforts them with hope yet of regaining Heaven, but tells them lastly of a new world and new kind of creature to be created, according to an ancient prophecy or report in Heaven; for, that Angels were long before this visible creation, was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To find out the truth of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he refers to a full council. What his associates thence attempt. Pandemonium, the palace of Satan, rises, suddenly built out of the deep: The infernal peers there sit in council.

Or Man's first disobedience, and the fruit

Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste

Brought death into the world, and all our wce,

With loss of Eden, till one greater Man

Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,

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Sing, heavenly Muse, that on the secret top

Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire

That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed,
In the beginning how the Heavens and Earth

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Above the Aönian mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.
And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer
Before all temples the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me, for Thou know'st, Thou from the first
Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread
Dovelike sat'st brooding on the vast abyss,

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And madest it pregnant: What in me is dark,
Illumine what is low, raise and support;
That to the height of this great argument

I may assert Eternal Providence,

And justify the ways of God to men.

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Say first, for Heaven hides nothing from thy view, Nor the deep tract of Hell; say first, what cause

Moved our grand Parents, in that happy state,
Favour'd of Heaven so highly, to fall off
From their Creator, and transgress his will
For one restraint, lords of the world besides ?
Who first seduced them to that foul revolt?
The infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile,
Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived
The mother of mankind, what time his pride
Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host
Of rebel Angels; by whose aid, aspiring

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To set himself in glory above his peers,

He trusted to have equal'd the Most High,

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If he opposed and, with ambitious aim
Against the throne and monarchy of God,
Raised impious war in Heaven, and battle proud,
With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power
Hurl'd headlong flaming from the ethereal sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down

To bottomless perdition; there to dwell

In adamantine chains and penal fire,

Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.

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Nine t'mes the space that measures day and night 50 To mortal men, he with his horrid crew

Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf,

Confounded, though immortal: But his doom

Reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought Both of lost happiness, and lasting pain,

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Torments him: round he throws his baleful eyes,

That witness'd huge affliction and disinay

Mix'd with obdurate pride and steadfast hate

At once, as far as Angels ken, he views
The dismal situation waste and wild:
A dungeon horrible on all sides round

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As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames
No light; but rather darkness visible
Served only to discover sights of woe,

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace

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And rest can never dwell; hope never comes

That comes to all but torture without end
Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed

With ever burning sulphur unconsumed
Such place Eternal Justice had prepared

For those rebellious; here their prison ordain'd
In utter darkness, and their portion set
As far removed from God and light of Heaven
As from the centre thrice to the utmost pole.)
O, how unlike the place from whence they fell'
There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelm'd
With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,
He soon discerns; and weltering by his side
One next himself in power, and next in crime,
Long after known in Palestine, and named

Beelzebub. To whom the Archenemy,

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And thence in Heaven call'd Satan, with bold words Breaking the horrid silence, thus began.

If thou be he; but O, how fallen! how changed From him, who, in the happy realms of light, 'Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine Myriads though bright! If he whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope

And hazard in the glorious enterprise,

Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd

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In equal ruin! Into what pit thou secst,

From what height fallen; so much the stronger proved
He with his thunder and till then who knew

The force of those dire arms? Yet not for those,
Nor what the potent victor in his rage

Can else inflict, do I repent or change,

Though changed in outward lustre, that fix'd mind,
And high disdain from sense of injured merit,
That with the Mightiest raised me to contend,
And to the fierce contention brought along
Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd,

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That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring,

His utmost power with adverse power opposed

In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven,

And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?

All is not lost; the unconquerable will,

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And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield,
And what is else not to be overcome;
That glory never shall his wrath or might
Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace
With suppliant knee, and deify his power,
Who from the terror of this arm so late

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Doubted his empire; that were low indeed,

That were an ignominy, and shame beneath

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This downfal: since, by fate, the strength of Gods

And this empyreal substance cannot fail;

Since through experience of this great event

In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced,

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We may with more successful hone resolve
To wage, by force or guile, eternal war
Irreconcilable to our grand Foe,
Who now triumphs, and, in the excess of joy
Sole reigning, holds the tyranny of Heaven.

So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain,
Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair:
And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer.

O Prince, O Chief of many throned Powers,

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That led the embattled Seraphim to war
Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds

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Fearless endanger'd Heaven's perpetual king,

And put to proof his high supremacy,

Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate;

Too well I see and rue the dire event,

That with sad overthrow, and foul defeat,

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Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host

In horrible destruction laid thus low,

As far as Gods and heavenly essences

Can perish for the mind and spirit remains
Invincible, and vigour soon returns,

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Though all our glory extinct, and happy state
Here swallow'd up in endless misery.

But what if he our Conqueror (whom I now

Of force believe Almighty, since no less

Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours)

Have left us this our spirit and strength entire

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Strongly to suffer and support our pains,

That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,
Or do him mightier service as his thralls
By right of war, whate'er his business be,
Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire,
Or do his errands in the gloomy deep;

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What can it then avail, though yet we feel
Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being,

To undergo eternal punishment?

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Whereto with speedy words the Archfiend replied.
Fallen cherub! to be weak is miserable,

Doing or suffering: but of this be sure,

To do aught good never will be our task,

But ever to do ill our sole delight,

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As being the contrary to his high will

Whom we resist. If then his providence
Out of our evil seck to bring forth good,
Our labour must be to pervert that end,
And out of good still to find means of evil;
Which ofttimes may succeed so as perhaps

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