45

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 50
Would set 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

55

Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais'd 60
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 unshaken, 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,

50 sdein'd] Drayton's Moses birth, B. I.

65

'Which though it sdaind the pleasdnesse to confesse.' and Fairfax's Tasso, vér. xx. 128. 'He sdeignful eies.' Todd. 53 still paying] Still paying, ne'er discharged.'

v. Benlowe's Theophila, p. 29.

But heaven's free love dealt equally to all?
Be then his love accurs'd, 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 miserable! which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?

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 heaven.
O then at last relent: is there no place
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 seduc'd
With other promises and other vaunts
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,
With diadem and sceptre high advanc'd
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 Would highth recal high thoughts, how soon unsay What feign'd submission swore: ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void;

97

100

105

For never can true reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep;
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:
All hope excluded thus, behold in stead
Of us out-cast, exil'd, 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;
Evil, be thou my good; by thee at least
Divided empire with heaven'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 dimm'd his

face

110.

Thrice chang'd with pale, ire, envy, and despair, 115
Which marr'd his borrow'd visage, and betray'd
Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld:

For heav'nly minds from such distempers foul
Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware
Each pertubation smooth'd with outward calm, 120
Artificer of fraud; and was the first

That practis'd falsehood under saintly shew,
Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge.
Yet not enough had practis'd to deceive
Uriel once warn'd; whose eye pursu'd him down 125
The way he went, and on th' Assyrian mount

Saw him disfigur'd, more than could befall
Spirit of happy sort: his gestures fierce
He mark'd and mad demeanour, then alone,
As he suppos'd, all unobserv'd, 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 champain head
Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides
With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild,
Access deny'd; and over head up grew
Insuperable highth of loftiest shade,
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm,
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
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

130

135

140

145

138 shade] 'shaft;' Bentl. MS. and again ver. 141, 'Shaft above shaft.'

141 woody theatre] v. Senecæ Troades, ver. 1127.

Erecta medium vallis includens locum,

Crescit theatri more.'

Virg. Eu. v. 288. and Solini Polyhist. c. xxxviii. v. Lycophr. Cassandra, ver. 600.

θεατρομόρφῳ κλίτει.

155

Appear'd with gay enamel'd colours mixt:
On which the sun more glad impress'd his beams, 150
Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow,
When God hath showr'd the earth; so lovely seem'd
That landscape and of pure now purer air
Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires.
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
Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 160
Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow
Sabean odours from the spicy shore

151 in] Hume, Bentley, and Warton would read evening cloud.'

on fair

162 Sabean odours] See Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. xii. c. 42. 19. 'Magnique Alexandri classibus Arabiam odore primum nuntiatam in altum.' Compare a passage in Ovington's Voyage to Surat, p. 55 (1696). We were pleased with the prospect of this island, because we had been long strangers to such a sight; and it gratified us with the fragrant smells which were wafted from the shore, from whence, at three leagues distance, we scented the odours of flowers and fresh herbs; and what is very observable, when after a tedious stretch at sea, we have deemed ourselves to be near land by our observation and course, our smell in dark and misty weather has outdone the acuteness of our sight, and we have discovered land by the fresh smells, before we discovered it with our eyes. See also Davenport's City Night-cap,' act v.

'The Indian winds

That blow off from the coast, and cheer the sailor
With the sweet savour of their spices, want

The delight that flows in thee.'