And feel thy sov'reign 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 flow'ry brooks beneath,
That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling
Nightly I visit: nor sometimes forget [flow,
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 move
Harmonious numbers, as the wakeful bird
Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid
Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the
Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of Knowledge fair
Presented with a universal blank
Of Nature's works to me expung'd and rais'd,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
So much the rather thou, celestial Light
Shine inward, and the mind through all her
powers
Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence
Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell
Of things invisible to mortal sight.
§ 6. Satan's Address to the Sun. MILTON.
O THOU that with surpassing glory crown'd,
Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the God
Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what
I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere;
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down,
Warring in Heav'n against Heav'n's matchless
King;
Ah wherefore! he deserv'd no such return
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 recompense, and pay him thanks,
How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me,
And wrought but malice; lifted up so high,
I disdain'd subjection, and thought one step
higher
Would set me high'st, and in a moment quit
The debt immense of endless gratitude,
So burdensome 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 pow'rful destiny ordain'd
Me some inferior Angel, I had stood
Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais'd
Ambition. Yet, why not? some other power
As great might have aspir'd, and me, though
Drawn to his part; but other pow'rs as great
Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within
Or from without, to all temptations arm'd.
Hadst thou the same free will and pow'r to
stand?
[t' accuse,
Thou hadst; whom hast thou then, or what,
But Heav'n'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 Heav'n.
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 Sp'rits beneath, whom I seduc'd
With other promises and other vaunts
Than to submit, boasting I could subdue
Th' 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 advanc'd,
The lower stil 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 recal high thoughts, how soon
What feign'd submission swore ? ease would
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
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 instead
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 Heav'n's King I hold,
By thee, and more than half perhaps will
reign ;
As man ere long, and this new world, shall know.
So on he fares, and to the border comes
Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,
Now nearer, crowns with her inclosure
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 height 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 verd'rous wall of Paradise up sprung:
Which to our general sire gave prospect large
Into his nether empire neighb'ring round.
And higher than that wall a circling row
Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit,
Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue,
Appear'd, with gay enamel'd colors mix'd:
On which the sun more glad impress'd his
Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, When God hath show'r'd the earth; so lovely| seem'd
That landskip 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
[sail
Those balmy spoils. As when to them who
Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past
Mozambic, off at sea north-cast winds blow
Sabean odors from the spicy shore
Of Araby the blest; with such delay
Well pleas'd they slack their course, and
many a league,
[smiles.
Cheer'd with the grateful smell, old Ocean
§ 8. Eve's Account of herself. MILTON.
To whom thus Eve replied. O thou for
whom
And from whom I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh,
And without whom am to no end, my guide
And head, what thou hast said is just and
For we to him indeed all praises owe, [right:
And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy
So far the happier lot, enjoying thee
Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou
Like consort to thyself canst no where find.
That day I oft remember, when from sleep
I first awak'd, and found myself repos'd
Under a shade on flow'rs, much wond'ring
where
[and how
And what I was; whence thither brought,
Not distant far from thence a murm'ring sound
Of waters issued from a cave, and spread
Into a liquid plain, then stood unmov'd
Pure as th' expanse of Heav'n; I thither went
With unexperienc'd thought, and laid me down
On the green bank, to look into the clear
Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky.
As I bent down to look, just opposite
A shape within the wat'ry gleam appear'd,
Bending to look on me: I started back,
It started back; but pleas'd I soon return'd; Pleas'd it return'd as soon, with answ'ring looks
Of sympathy and love; there I had fix'd
Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire,
Had not a voice thus warn'd me: What thou seest,
What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself;
With thee it came and goes: but follow me,
And I will bring thee where no shadow stays
Whose image thou art; him thou shalt enjoy
Thy coming and thy soft embraces, he
Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear
Multitudes like thyself, and thence be call'd
Mother of human race. What could I do,
But follow strait, invisibly thus led?
Till I espied thee, fair indeed and tall,
Under a platane; yet methought less fair,
Less winning soft, less amiably mild,
Than that smooth wat'ry image: back I turn'd;
Thou following criedst aloud, Return, fair
[thou art,
Whom fly'st thou ? whom thou fly'st, of him
His flesh, his bone; to give thee being, I lent
Substantial life, to have thee by my side
Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart,
Henceforth an individual solace dear;
Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim
My other half; with that thy gentle hand
Seiz'd mine; I yielded, and from that time see
How beauty is excell'd by manly grace
And wisdom, which alone is truly fair.
So spake our general mother, and with eyes
Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd,
And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd
On our first father; half her swelling breast
Naked met his under the flowing gold
of her loose tresses hid: he in delight
Both of her beauty and submissive charms
Smil'd with superior love, as Jupiter
On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds
That shed May flow'rs; and press'd her matron
With kisses pure.
[lip
9. Adam's Account of himself. MILTON As new wak'd from soundest sleep Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun Soon dry'd, and on the reeking moisture fed. Strait toward Heav'n my wond'ring eyes I turn'd,
And gaz'd a while the ample sky, till rais'd
By quick instinctive motion up I sprung,
As thitherward endeavoring, and upright
Stood on my feet; about me round I saw
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains
And liquid lapse of murm'ring streams; by
these,
[flew
Creatures that liv'd and mov'd, and walk'd, or
Birds on the branches warbling; all things
smil'd,
[flow'd.
With fragrance and with joy my heart o'er
Myself I then perus'd, and limb by limb [ran And shun the bitter consequence: for know
Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes
With supple joints, as lively vigor led:
But who I was, or where or from what cause,
Knew not; to speak I try'd, and forthwith
spake ;
The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command
Transgress'd, inevitably thou shalt die,
From that day mortal, and this happy state
Shalt lose, expell'd from hence into a world
Of woe and sorrow.
My tongue obey'd, and readily could name
Whate'er I saw. Thou Sun, said I, fair light, § 10. Description of Greece-From Paradise
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;
Not of myself, by some great Maker then,
In goodness and in power pre-eminent;
Tell me how I may know him, how adore
From whom I have that thus I move and live,
And feel that I am happier than I know.
While thus I call'd, and stray'd, I knew not
whither,
From where I first drew air, and first beheld
This happy light, when answer none return'd,
On a green shady bank profuse of flowers
Pensive I sat me down; there gentle sleep
First found me, and with soft oppression seiz'd
My droused sense, untroubled, though I thought
I then was passing to my former state
Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve:
When suddenly stood at my head a dream,
Whose inward apparition gently mov'd
My fancy to believe I yet had being, [divine,
And liv'd One came, methought of shape
And said, thy mansion wants thee, Adam, rise,
First man, of men innumerable ordain'd
First father, call'd by thee I come thy guide
To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepar'd.
So saying, by the hand he took me rais'd,
And over fields and waters, as in air
Smooth sliding without step, last led me up
A woody mountain, whose high top was plain,
A circuit wide, inclos'd, with goodliest trees
Planted, with walks, and bowers, that what I
To whom the Fiend with fear abash'd re-
Be not so sore offended, Son of God, [ply'd:
Though sons of God both angels are and men,
If I to try whether in higher sort [pos'd
Than these thou bear'st that title, have pro
What both from men and angels I receive,
Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth
Nations besides from all the quarter'd winds,
God of this world invok'd and world beneath;
Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold
To me so fatal, me it most concerns.
The trial hath indamag'd thee no way;
Rather more honor left and more esteem!
Me nought advantag'd, missing what I aim'd
Therefore let pass, as they are transitory,
The kingdoms of this world; I shall no more
Advise thee; gain them as thou canst, or not.
And thou thyself seem'st otherwise inclin'd
Than to a worldly crown, addicted more
To contemplation and profound dispute,
As by that early action may be judg’d,
When slipping from thy mother's eye thou
Alone into the temple; there wast found
Among the gravest Rabbies disputant
On points and questions fitting Moses' chair,
Teaching, not taught; the childhood shows
To admiration, led by Nature's light; [verse,
And with the Gentiles much thou must con-
Ruling them by persuasion as thou mean'st;
Without their learning, how wilt thou with
them,
As morning shows the day. Be famous then By wisdom; as thy empire must extend, So let extend thy mind o'er all the world In knowledge, all things in it comprehend: All knowledge is not couch'd in Moses' law, [tree The Pentateuch, or what the Prophets wrote; Of earth before scarce pleasant seem'd. Each The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach Loaden with fairest fruit that hung to th' Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite To pluck and eat; whereat I wak'd and found Before mine eyes all real, as the dream Had lively shadow'd: here had new begun My wand'ring, had not he who was my guide Up hither, from among the trees appear'd Presence divine. Rejoicing, but with awe, In adoration at his feet I fell [I am, Submiss: he rear'd me, and whom thou sought'st Said mildly, author of all this thou seest Above, or round about thee, or beneath. This paradise I give thee, count it thine To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat Of every tree that in the garden grows, Eat freely with glad heart; for here no dearth: But of the tree whose operation brings Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith, Amid the garden by the tree of life, Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste,
Or they with thee hold conversation meet?
How wilt thou reason with them, how refute
Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes?
Error by his own arms is best evinc'd.
Look once more, ere we leave this specular
mount,
Westward, much nearer by southwest, behold
Where on the Ægean shore a city stands
Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil,
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts
And eloquence, native to famous wits
Or hospitable, in her sweet recess,
City or suburban, studious walks and shades;
See there the olive grove of Academe,
Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird [long;
Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer
There flowery hill Hymettus with the sound
Of bees' industrious murmur oft invites
To studious musing; there Ilissus rolls [view
His whisp'ring stream: within the walls then
The schools of ancient sages; his who bred
Great Alexander to subdue the world.
Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next;
There shalt thou hear and learn the secret
power
But where they are, and why they came not back,
Is now the labor of my thought; 'tis likeliest
They had engag'd their wand'ring steps too
far,
And envious darkness, ere they could return,
Had stole them from me; else, O thievish
Why wouldst thou, but for some felonious end,
In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars,
That nature hung in Heav'n, and fill'd their
With everlasting oil, to give due light [lamps
To the misled and lonely traveller ?
This is the place, as well as I may guess,
Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth
Was rife and perfect in my list'ning ear;
Yet nought but single darkness do I find.
What might this be? A thousand fantasies
Begin to throng into my memory, [dire,
Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows
And airy tongues, that syllable men's names
On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.
These thoughts may startle well, but not
astound
Of harmony in tones and numbers hit
By voice or hand, and various-measured verse,
Eolian charms and Dorian lyric odes, [sung,
And his who gave them breath, but higher
Blind Melesigenes, thence Homer call'd,
Whose poem Phœbus challeng'd for his own.
Thence what the lofty grave tragedians taught
In Chorus or Iambic, teachers best
Of moral prudence, with delight receiv'd
In brief sententious precepts, while they treat
Of fate, and chance, and change in human life;
High actions, and high passions best describ-
Thence to the famous orators repair, [ing
Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence
Wielded at will that fierce democratie,
Shook th' arsenal, and fulmin'd over Greece,The
To Macedon and Artaxerxes' throne:
To sage philosophy next lend thine ear,
From Heav'n descended to the low-rooft house
Of Socrates; see there his tenement,
Whom well inspir'd the oracle pronounc'd
Wisest of men; from whose mouth issued
forth
Mellifluous streams that water'd all the schools
Of Academics old and new, with those
Surnam'd Peripatetics, and the sect
Epicurean, and the Stoic severe;
These here revolve, or, as thou lik'st, at home,
Till time mature thee to a kingdom's weight;
These rules will render thee a king complete
Within thyself, much more with empire join'd.
§ 11. Courage derived to Virtue from Trust
in Providence. MILTON.
THIS way the noise was, if mine ear be true,
My best guide now; methought it was the
Of riot and ill-managed merriment, [sound
Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pipe
Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds,
When for their teeming flocks, and granges
full,
virtuous mind, that ever walks attended
By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
O welcome pure-ey'd faith, white-handed hope
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings,
And thou, unblemish'd form of chastity;
I see ye visibly, and now believe [things ill
That he, the Supreme Good, t' whom all
Are but as slavish officers of vengeance,
Would send a glist'ring guardian, if need were
To keep my life and honor unassail'd.
Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
I did not err; there does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove.
I cannot halloo to my brothers, but
Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest
I'll venture; for my new enliven'd spirits
Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off.
Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen
Within thy airy shell,
By slow Meander's margent green,
And in the violet embroider'd vale,
That likest thy Narcissus are?
Hid them in some flow'ry cave,
Tell me but where,
Where the love-born nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well; In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair And thank the Gods amiss. I should be loth To meet the rudeness and swill'd insolence Of such late wassailers; yet oh, where else Shall I inform my unacquainted feet In the blind mazes of this tangled wood? My brothers, when they saw me wearied out With this long way, resolving here to lodge Under the spreading favor of these pines, Stept, as they said, to the next thicket side To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit As the kind hospitable woods provide. They left me then, when the grey hooded even, Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, [wain. Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus'
Sweet queen of Parly, daughter of the sphere, So may'st thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all Heav'n's harmonies.
Comus. Can any mortal mixture of earth's
mould
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment ?
Sure something holy lodges in that breast,
And with these raptures moves the vocal air
What readiest way would bring me to the Comus. Due west it rises from this shrubby [suppose,
Lady. To find out that, good shepherd, I
In such a scant allowance of star-light,
Would over-task the best land-pilot's art,
Without the sure guess of well practis'd feet.
Comus. I know each lane, and every alley
Dingle, or bushy dell of this wild wood,
And every bosky bourn from side to side,
My daily walks and ancient neighborhood;
And if your stray-attendants be yet lodg'd,
Or shroud within these limits, I shall know
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark
To testify his hidden residence:
How sweetly did they float upon the wings
Of silence, through the empty vaulted night,
At every fall smoothing the raven down
Of darkness till it smil'd! I have oft heard
My mother Circe, with the Sirens three,
Amidst the flow'ry-kirtled Naiades
Culling their potent herbs, and baleful drugs,
Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd
And lap it in Elysium; Scylla wept, [soul,
And chid her barking waves into attention,
And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause:
Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense,
And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself;
But such a sacred and home-felt delight,
Such sober certainty of waking bliss,
I never heard till now. I'll speak to her,
And she shall be my queen. Hail foreign From her thatched pallet rouse; if otherwise
wonder,
[breed, I can conduct you, lady, to a low
Whom certain these rough shades did never But loyal cottage, where you may be safe
Unless the Goddess that in rural shrine [song Till further quest.
Dwell'st here with Pan, or Sylvan, by blest Lady. Shepherd, I take thy word,
Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog [wood.
To touch the prosp'rous growth of this tall
Lady. Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that
That is address'd to unattending ears; [praise
Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift
How to regain my sever'd company,
Compell'd me to awake the courteous echo
To give me answer from her mossy couch.
Comus. What chance, good lady, hath be-
reft you thus ?
[rinth.
Lady. Dim darkness and this leafy laby-
Comus. Could that divide you from near-
ushering guides ?
And trust thy honest offer'd courtesy,
Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds
With smoky rafters, than in tap'stry halls
And courts of princes, where it first was nam'd,
And yet is most pretended: in a place
Less warranted than this, or less secure,
I cannot be, that I should fear to change it.
Eye me,
blest Providence, and square my trial
To my proportion'd strength. Shepherd, lead
12. Power of Chastity. MILTON. E. Bro. UNMUFFLE ye faint stars, and thou fair moon,
Lady. They left me weary on a grassy turf. Comus. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or That wont'st to love the traveller's benizon, why? [friendly spring. Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, Lady. To seek i' th' valley some cool And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here Comus. And left your fair side all unguard- In double night of darkness and of shades; ed, lady? [quick return. Or if your influence be quite damm'd up Lady. They were but twain, and purpos'd With black usurping mists, some gentle taper, Comus. Perhaps forestalling night prevent- Though a rush candle from the wicker hole ed them. Of some clay habitation, visit us With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light, And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, Or Tyrian Cynosure.
Lady. How easy my misfortune is to hit!
Comus. Imports their loss, besides the pre-
sent need?
[lose.
Lady. No less than if I should my brothers
Comus. Were they of manly prime, or
youthful bloom?
Be barr'd that happiness, might we but hear
[lips. The folded flocks penn'd in their wattled cotes,
Or sound of past'ral reed with oaten stops,
Lady. As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd
Comus. Two such I saw, what time the Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock
In his loose traces from the furrow came,
And the swinkt hedger at his supper sat;
I saw them under a green mantling vine
That crawls along the side of yon small hill,
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots;
Their port was more than human, as they
1 took it for a faëry vision
[stood;
Of some gay creatures of the element,
That in the colors of the rainbow live, [struck,
And play i' th' plighted clouds. I was awe-
And as I pass'd I worshipt; if those you seek,
It were a journey like the path to Heav'n,
|