Paradise Lost. John Milton

Paradise Lost - John Milton


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ride in arm’d, and at the Soldans chair

      Defi’d the best of Panim chivalry

      To mortal combat or carreer with Lance)

      Thick swarm’d, both on the ground and in the air,

      Brusht with the hiss of russling wings. As Bees

      In spring time, when the Sun with Taurus rides,

      Poure forth thir populous youth about the Hive

      In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers

      Flie to and fro, or on the smoothed Plank,

      The suburb of thir Straw-built Cittadel,

      New rub’d with Baume, expatiate and confer

      Thir State affairs. So thick the aerie crowd

      Swarm’d and were straitn’d; till the Signal giv’n,

      Behold a wonder! they but now who seemd

      In bigness to surpass Earths Giant Sons

      Now less then smallest Dwarfs, in narrow room

      Throng numberless, like that Pigmean Race

      Beyond the INDIAN Mount, or Faerie Elves,

      Whose midnight Revels, by a Forrest side

      Or Fountain fome belated Peasant sees,

      Or dreams he sees, while over head the Moon

      Sits Arbitress, and neerer to the Earth

      Wheels her pale course, they on thir mirth & dance

      Intent, with jocond Music charm his ear;

      At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.

      Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms

      Reduc’d thir shapes immense, and were at large,

      Though without number still amidst the Hall

      Of that infernal Court. But far within

      And in thir own dimensions like themselves

      The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim

      In close recess and secret conclave sat

      A thousand Demy-Gods on golden seat’s,

      Frequent and full. After short silence then

      And summons read, the great consult began.

      THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK

      BOOK II

      High on a Throne of Royal State, which far

      Outshon the wealth of ORMUS and of IND,

      Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand

      Showrs on her Kings BARBARIC Pearl & Gold,

      Satan exalted sat, by merit rais’d

      To that bad eminence; and from despair

      Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires

      Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue

      Vain Warr with Heav’n, and by success untaught

      His proud imaginations thus displaid.

      Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heav’n,

      For since no deep within her gulf can hold

      Immortal vigor, though opprest and fall’n,

      I give not Heav’n for lost. From this descent

      Celestial vertues rising, will appear

      More glorious and more dread then from no fall,

      And trust themselves to fear no second fate:

      Mee though just right, and the fixt Laws of Heav’n

      Did first create your Leader, next, free choice,

      With what besides, in Counsel or in Fight,

      Hath bin achievd of merit, yet this loss

      Thus farr at least recover’d, hath much more

      Establisht in a safe unenvied Throne

      Yeilded with full consent. The happier state

      In Heav’n, which follows dignity, might draw

      Envy from each inferior; but who here

      Will envy whom the highest place exposes

      Formost to stand against the Thunderers aime

      Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share

      Of endless pain? where there is then no good

      For which to strive, no strife can grow up there

      From Faction; for none sure will claim in hell

      Precedence, none, whose portion is so small

      Of present pain, that with ambitious mind

      Will covet more. With this advantage then

      To union, and firm Faith, and firm accord,

      More then can be in Heav’n, we now return

      To claim our just inheritance of old,

      Surer to prosper then prosperity

      Could have assur’d us; and by what best way,

      Whether of open Warr or covert guile,

      We now debate; who can advise, may speak.

      He ceas’d, and next him MOLOC, Scepter’d King

      Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Spirit

      That fought in Heav’n; now fiercer by despair:

      His trust was with th’ Eternal to be deem’d

      Equal in strength, and rather then be less

      Car’d not to be at all; with that care lost

      Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse

      He reckd not, and these words thereafter spake.

      My sentence is for open Warr: Of Wiles,

      More unexpert, I boast not: them let those

      Contrive who need, or when they need, not now.

      For while they sit contriving, shall the rest,

      Millions that stand in Arms, and longing wait

      The Signal to ascend, sit lingring here

      Heav’ns fugitives, and for thir dwelling place

      Accept this dark opprobrious Den of shame,

      The Prison of his Tyranny who Reigns

      By our delay? no, let us rather choose

      Arm’d with Hell flames and fury all at once

      O’re Heav’ns high Towrs to force resistless way,

      Turning our Tortures into horrid Arms

      Against the Torturer; when to meet the noise

      Of his Almighty Engin he shall hear

      Infernal Thunder, and for Lightning see

      Black fire and horror shot with equal rage

      Among his Angels; and his Throne it self

      Mixt with TARTAREAN Sulphur, and strange fire,

      His own invented Torments. But perhaps

      The way seems difficult and steep to scale

      With


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