Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is hell! myself am hell!
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep,
Still threatening to devour me, opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven!
Oh, 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 seduced
With other promises and other vaunts
Than to submit, boasting I could subdue-
The Omnipotent! Ah 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 advanced,
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 height recall high thoughts; how soon unsay
What feign'd submission swore! Ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void;

For never can true reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced 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, instead
Of us outcast! exiled! 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!

Ibid.

Adam's Account of Himself with regard to his Creation.

FOR man to tell how human life began,

Is hard; for who himself beginning knew?

Desire with thee still longer to converse
Induced me. As new-waked from soundest sleep,
Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid,
In balmy sweat; which with his beams the sun
Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed.
Straight towards heaven my wondering eyes I turn'd.
And gazed awhile the ample sky; till, raised
By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung,
As thitherward endeavouring, and upright
Stood on my feet. About me round I saw
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains,
And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these,
Creatures that lived and moved, and walk'd or flew;
Birds on the branches warbling; all things smiled;
With fragrance; and with joy my heart o'erflow'd!
Myself I then perused, and limb by limb

Survey'd; and sometimes went, and sometimes ran
With supple joints, as lively vigour led:

66

But who I was, or where, or from what cause,
Knew not. To speak I tried, and forthwith spake;
My tongue obey'd, and readily could name
Whate'er I saw. Thou sun," said I, “fair light!
And thou, enlighten'd earth! so fresh and gay;
Ye hills and dales; ye rivers, woods, and plains;
And ye that live and move, fair creatures! tell,
Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus?-how here?"

Contest between Satan and Gabriel.

WHY hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed
To thy transgressions, and disturb'd the charge
Of others, who approve not to transgress
By thy example, but have power and right
To question thy bold entrance on this place-
Employ'd, it seems, to violate sleep, and those
Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?"

Ibid.

To whom thus Satan, with contemptuous brow: Gabriel, thou hadst in heaven the esteem of wise, And such I held thee: but this question ask'd Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain? Who would not, finding way, break loose from hell, Though thither doom'd? Thou wouldst thyself, no doubt, And boldly venture to whatever place

Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change

Torment with ease, and soonest recompense
Dole with delight; which in this place I sought:
To thee no reason, who know'st only good,
But evil hast not tried: and wilt object
His will who bound us? Let him surer bar
His iron gates, if he intends our stay

In that dark durance. Thus much what was ask'd.
The rest is true; they found me where they say;
But that implies not violence or harm."

Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel moved,
Disdainfully half-smiling, thus replied:
"Oh! loss of one in heaven to judge of wise,
Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew!
And now returns him from his prison 'scaped,
Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise
Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither,
Unlicensed from his bounds in hell prescribed;
So wise he judges it to fly from pain,

However, and to 'scape his punishment.

So judge thou still, presumptuous! till the wrath,
Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight
Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to hell,
Which taught thee yet no better that no pain
Can equal anger infinite provoked!

But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee
Came not all hell broke loose? Is pain to them
Less pain, less to be fled? or thou than they
Less hardy to endure? Courageous chief!
The first in flight from pain! hadst thou alleged
To thy deserted host this cause of flight,

Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive."

To which the fiend thus answer'd, frowning stern:

'Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain,
Insulting angel! well thou know'st I stood
Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid
The blasting vollied thunder made all speed,
And seconded thy else not-dreaded spear.
But still thy words at random, as before,
Argue thy inexperience what behoves,
From hard essays and ill successes past,
A faithful leader; not to hazard all
Through ways of danger by himself untried:
I, therefore-I alone!-first undertook
To wing the desolate abyss, and spy

This new-created world, whereof in Lell
Fame is not silent, here in hope to find
Better abode, and my afflicted Powers
To settle here on earth, or in mid air-
Though for possession put to try once more
What thou and thy gay legions dare against:
Whose easier business were to serve their Lord
High up in heaven, with songs to hymn his throne,
And practised distances to cringe-not fight!"
To whom the warrior-angel soon replied:
"To say, and straight unsay--pretending first
Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy--
Argues no leader, but a liar traced,

Satan! And couldst thou faithful add! O name!
O sacred name of faithfulness profaned!
Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew?
Army of fiends! fit body to fit head!

Was this your discipline and faith engaged,
Your military obedience, to dissolve

Allegiance to the acknowledged Power supreme?
And thou, sly hypocrite! who now wouldst seem
Patron of liberty, who more than thou

Once fawn'd, and cringed, and servilely adored Heaven's awful Monarch?-wherefore, but in hope To dispossess Him, and thyself to reign?

66

But mark what I arread thee now-Avaunt!
Fly thither whence thou fledd'st. If from this hour
Within these hallow'd limits thou appear,
Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chain'd,
And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn
The facile gates of hell, too slightly barr'd."
So threaten'd he; but Satan to no threats
Gave heed; but, waxing more in rage, replied:
Then when I am thy captive, talk of chains,
Proud limitary cherub! but, ere then,
Far heavier load thyself expect to feel
From my prevailing arm, though heaven's King
Ride on thy wings, and thou, with thy compeers—
Used to the yoke!-draw'st his triumphant wheels
In progress through the road of heaven star-paved.'
While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright
Turn'd fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns
Their phalanx, and began to hem him round
With ported spears, as thick as when a field

Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends
Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind
Sways them; the careful ploughman doubting stands,
Lest on the thrashing-floor his hopeful sheaves
Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarm'd,
Collecting all his might, dilated stood,

Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved:

His stature reach'd the sky, and on his crest
Sat horror plumed; nor wanted in his grasp

What seem'd both spear and shield. Now dreadful deeds
Might have ensued: Not only Paradise,

In this commotion, but the starry cope
Of heaven perhaps, or all the elements

At least, had gone to wreck, disturb'd and torn
With violence of this conflict, had not soon
The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray,
Hung forth in heaven his golden scales, yet seen
Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign,
Wherein all things created first he weigh'd-
The pendulous round earth with balanced air
In counterpoise; now ponders all events,
Battles, and realins--In these he put two weights,
The sequel each of parting and of fight:

The latter quick up flew, and kick'd the beam;
Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend:

Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine;

Neither our own, but given: what folly then

To boast what arms can do? since thine, no more

Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled now
To trample thee as mire: for proof look up,

And read thy lot in yon celestial sign;

Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how weak,
If thou resist." The fiend look'd up, and knew
His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled
Murmuring; and with him fled the shades of night.

The Good Preacher and the Clerical Coxcomb.

WOULD I describe a preacher, such as Paul,
Were he on earth, would hear, approve,
and own,
Paul should himself direct me: I would trace
His master-strokes, and draw from his design.
I would express him simple, grave, sincerc;

Ibid