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IN TWELVE PARTS.
BY JOHN MILTON.
LIFE, DEATH AND IMMORTALITY
TO WHICH IS ADDED,
THE FORCE OF RELIGION.
BY EDWARD YOUNG, D. D.
A NEW EDITION.
PHILLIPS, SAMPSON, & CO.,
Levi L. Barbour 4-11-26
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 his 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 woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing, heavenly Muse, that on the secret top
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed,
Above the Aönian mount, while it pursues
And justify the ways of God to men.
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 To set himself in glory above his peers, He trusted to have equal'd the Most High, 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. Nine times 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,
Torments him: round he throws his baleful eyes,
Mix'd with obdurate pride and steadfast hate
At once, as far as Angels ken, he views
A dungeon horrible on all sides round
As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell; hope never comes
That comes to all but torture without end
With ever burning sulphur unconsumed
For those rebellious; here their prison ordain'd
Beelzebub. To whom the Archenemy,
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