Paradise Lost. John Milton

      Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit

      Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast

      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 Heav’nly 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 Heav’ns and Earth

      Rose out of CHAOS: Or if SION Hill

      Delight thee more, and SILOA’S Brook that flow’d

      Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence

      Invoke thy aid to my adventrous Song,

      That with no middle flight intends to soar

      Above th’ AONIAN Mount, while it pursues

      Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime.

      And chiefly Thou O Spirit, that dost prefer

      Before all Temples th’ upright heart and pure,

      Instruct me, for Thou know’st; Thou from the first

      Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread

      Dove-like satst brooding on the vast Abyss

      And mad’st it pregnant: What in me is dark

      Illumine, what is low raise and support;

      That to the highth of this great Argument

      I may assert th’ Eternal Providence,

      And justifie the wayes of God to men.

      Say first, for Heav’n hides nothing from thy view

      Nor the deep Tract of Hell, say first what cause

      Mov’d our Grand Parents in that happy State,

      Favour’d of Heav’n so highly, to fall off

      From their Creator, and transgress his Will

      For one restraint, Lords of the World besides?

      Who first seduc’d them to that fowl revolt?

      Th’ infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile

      Stird up with Envy and Revenge, deceiv’d

      The Mother of Mankinde, what time his Pride

      Had cast him out from Heav’n, 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 oppos’d; and with ambitious aim

      Against the Throne and Monarchy of God

      Rais’d impious War in Heav’n and Battel proud

      With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power

      Hurld headlong flaming from th’ Ethereal Skie

      With hideous ruine and combustion down

      To bottomless perdition, there to dwell

      In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire,

      Who durst defie th’ Omnipotent to Arms.

      Nine times the Space that measures Day and Night

      To mortal men, he with his horrid crew

      Lay vanquisht, rowling in the fiery Gulfe

      Confounded though immortal: But his doom

      Reserv’d him to more wrath; for now the thought

      Both of lost happiness and lasting pain

      Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes

      That witness’d huge affliction and dismay

      Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:

      At once as far as Angels kenn he views

      The dismal Situation waste and wilde,

      A Dungeon horrible, on all sides round

      As one great Furnace flam’d, yet from those flames

      No light, but rather darkness visible

      Serv’d only to discover sights of woe,

      Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace

      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 unconsum’d:

      Such place Eternal Justice had prepar’d

      For those rebellious, here their Prison ordain’d

      In utter darkness, and their portion set

      As far remov’d from God and light of Heav’n

      As from the Center thrice to th’ utmost Pole.

      O how unlike the place from whence they fell!

      There the companions of his fall, o’rewhelm’d

      With Floods and Whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,

      He soon discerns, and weltring by his side

      One next himself in power, and next in crime,

      Long after known in PALESTINE, and nam’d

      BEELZEBUB. To whom th’ Arch-Enemy,

      And thence in Heav’n call’d Satan, with bold words

      Breaking the horrid silence thus began.

      If thou beest he; But O how fall’n! how chang’d

      From him, who in the happy Realms of Light

      Cloth’d with transcendent brightnes didst outshine

      Myriads though bright: If he whom mutual league,

      United thoughts and counsels, equal hope,

      And hazard in the Glorious Enterprize,

      Joynd with me once, now misery hath joynd

      In equal ruin: into what Pit thou seest

      From what highth fal’n, so much the stronger provd

      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 chang’d in outward lustre; that fixt mind

      And high disdain, from sence of injur’d merit,

      That with the mightiest rais’d me to contend,

      And to the fierce contention brought along

      Innumerable force of Spirits arm’d

      That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring,

      His utmost power with adverse power oppos’d

      In dubious Battel on the Plains of Heav’n,

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

      All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,