BURNING LAKE.

THE superior fiend

Was moving toward the shore: his ponderous shield,

Ethereal temper, massy, large and round, Behind him cast; the broad circumference Hung on his shoulder, like the moon, whose orb

Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views

At evening from the top of Fesolé,
Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands,
Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
His spear, to equal which the tallest pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast
Of some great ammiral, were but a wand,
He walk'd with, to support uneasy steps
Over the burning marle, not like those
steps

On Heaven's azure; and the torrid clime Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire:

Nathless he so endured till on the beach Of that inflamed sea he stood, and call'd His legions, angel forms, who lay intranced,

Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks

In Vallombrosa, where the Etruitan shades,

High over-arch'd, imbower; or scatter'd sedge

Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd

Hath vex'd the Red-Sea coast, whose waves o'erthrew

Busiris and his Memphian chivalry, While with perfidious hatred they pursued

The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld From the safe shore their floating carcases And broken chariot wheels: so thick bestrewn,

Abject and lost lay these, covering the flood,

Under amazement of their hideous change. He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep Of Hell resounded. "Princes, potentates, Warriors, the flower of Heaven, once yours, now lost,

If such astonishment as this can seize

place,

After the toil of battle to repose

Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven?

Or in this abject posture have ye sworn T' adore the Conqueror? who now beholds

Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood With scatter'd arms and ensigns, till anon His swift pursuers, from Heaven-gates, discern

Th' advantage, and, descending, tread us down

Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts

Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf.
Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen!

Did first create your leader; next, free choice,

With what besides in counsel or in fight Hath been achieved of merit; yet this loss

Thus far at least recover'd, hath much

more

Establish'd in a safe unenvied throne, Yielded with full consent. The happier

state

In Heaven, which follows dignity, might draw

Envy from each inferior; but who here Will envy whom the highest place exposes Foremost to stand against the Thunderer's aim,

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 than can be in heaven, we now

return

To claim our just inheritance of old,
Surer to prosper than prosperity
Could have assur'd us; and, by what best
way,

Whether of open war, or covert guile,
We now debate: who can advise may
speak."

ADDRESS TO LIGHT.

HAIL, holy Light, offspring of Heaven, first-born,

Or of the Eternal coeternal beam, May I express thee unblamed? since God is light,

And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate. Or hear'st thou rather, pure ethereal stream,

Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the Sun,

Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice

Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless infinite. Thee I revisit now with a bolder wing, Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detain'd

In that obscure sojourn, while, in my flight,

Through utter and through middle darkness borne,

With other notes than to the Orphéan lyre, I sung of Chaos and eternal Night; Taught by the heavenly Muse to venture down

The dark descent, and up to re-ascend, Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe, And feel thy sovran vital lamp: but thou Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn; So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs,

Or dim suffusion veil'd. Yet not the more Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief

Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks be neath,

That wash thy hallowed feet, and warbling flow,

Nightly I visit: nor sometimes forget Those other two, equall'd with me in fate So were I equall'd with them in renown, Blind Thamyris, and blind Mæonides, And Tiresias, and Phineus, prophets old: Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary

So burthensome still paying, still to owe;
Forgetful what from him I still received,
And understood not that a grateful mind
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
Indebted and discharged; what burden
then?

O, had his powerful destiny ordain'd
Me some inferior angel, I had stood
Then happy; no unbounded hope had
raised

Ambition! Yet why not? some other power

As great might have aspired, 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,

But Heaven's free love dealt equally to all?

Be then his love accursed, since, love or hate,

To me alike, it deals eternal woe.
Nay, cursed 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 threatening to devour me, opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems
Heaven.

a

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 seduced

With other promises and other vaunts Than to submit, boasting I could subdue The 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 advanced,