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Short poem

John Milton (1608-1674)

Paradise Lost: Book IV (1674)


Satan now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he must now attempt the bold enterprize which he undertook alone against God and Man, falls into many doubts with himself, and many passions, fear, envy, and despare;  but at length confirms himself in evil, journeys on to Paradise, whose outward prospect and scituation is discribed, overleaps the bounds, sits in the shape of a Cormorant on the Tree of life, as highest in the Garden to look about him.  The Garden describ'd; Satans first sight of Adam and Eve; his wonder at thir excellent form and happy state, but with resolution to work thir fall; overhears thir discourse, thence gathers that the Tree of knowledge was forbidden them to eat of, under penalty of death; and thereon intends to found his Temptation, by seducing them to transgress: then leaves them a while, to know further of thir state by some other means.  Meanwhile Uriel descending on a Sun-beam warns Gabriel, who had in charge the Gate of Paradise, that some evil spirit had escap'd the Deep, and past at Noon by his Sphere in the shape of a good Angel down to Paradise, discovered after by his furious gestures in the Mount. Gabriel promises to find him ere morning.  Night coming on, Adam and Eve Eve (1667); Eve. (1674). discourse of going to thir rest: thir Bower describ'd; thir Evening worship. Gabriel drawing forth his Bands of Night-watch to walk the round of Paradise, appoints two strong Angels to Adams Bower, least the evill spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Eve sleeping; there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel;  by whom question'd, he scornfully answers, prepares resistance, but hinder'd by a Sign from Heaven, flies out of Paradise.

              1O For that warning voice, which he who saw
              2Th' Apocalyps, heard cry in Heaven aloud,
              3Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,
              4Came furious down to be reveng'd on men,
              5Wo to the inhabitants on Earth! that now,
              6While time was, our first-Parents had bin warnd
              7The coming of thir secret foe, and scap'd
              8Haply so scap'd his mortal snare; for now
              9Satan, now first inflam'd with rage, came down,
            10The Tempter ere th' Accuser of man-kind,
            11To wreck on innocent frail man his loss
            12Of that first Battel, and his flight to Hell:
            13Yet not rejoycing in his speed, though bold,
            14Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast,
            15Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth
            16Now rowling, boiles in his tumultuous brest,
            17And like a devillish Engine back recoiles
            18Upon himself; horror and doubt distract
            19His troubl'd thoughts, and from the bottom stirr
            20The Hell within him, for within him Hell
            21He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell
            22One step no more then from himself can fly
            23By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair
            24That slumberd, wakes the bitter memorie
            25Of what he was, what is, and what must be
            26Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.
            27Sometimes towards Eden which now in his view
            28Lay pleasant, his grievd look he fixes sad,
            29Sometimes towards Heav'n and the full-blazing Sun,
            30Which now sat high in his Meridian Towre:
            31Then much revolving, thus in sighs began.

            32O thou that with surpassing Glory crownd,
            33Look'st from thy sole Dominion like the God
            34Of this new World; at whose sight all the Starrs
            35Hide thir diminisht heads; to thee I call,
            36But with no friendly voice, and add thy name
            37O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams
            38That bring to my remembrance from what state
            39I fell, how glorious once above thy Spheare;
            40Till Pride and worse Ambition threw me down
            41Warring in Heav'n against Heav'ns matchless King:
            42Ah wherefore! he deservd no such return
            43From me, whom he created what I was
            44In that bright eminence, and with his good
            45Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.
            46What could be less then to afford him praise,
            47The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks,
            48How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me,
            49And wrought but malice; lifted up so high
            50I sdeind subjection, and thought one step higher
            51Would set me highest, and in a moment quit
            52The debt immense of endless gratitude,
            53So burthensome still paying, still to ow;
            54Forgetful what from him I still receivd,
            55And understood not that a grateful mind
            56By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
            57Indebted and dischargd; what burden then?
            58O had his powerful Destiny ordaind
            59Me some inferiour Angel, I had stood
            60Then happie; no unbounded hope had rais'd
            61Ambition.  Yet why not? som other Power
            62As great might have aspir'd, and me though mean
            63Drawn to his part; but other Powers as great
            64Fell not, but stand unshak'n, from within
            65Or from without, to all temptations arm'd.
            66Hadst thou the same free Will and Power to stand?
            67Thou hadst: whom hast thou then or what to accuse,
            68But Heav'ns free Love dealt equally to all?
            69Be then his Love accurst, since love or hate,
            70To me alike, it deals eternal woe.
            71Nay curs'd be thou; since against his thy will
            72Chose freely what it now so justly rues.
            73Me miserable! which way shall I flie
            74Infinite wrauth, and infinite despaire?
            75Which way I flie is Hell; my self am Hell;
            76And in the lowest deep a lower deep
            77Still threatning to devour me opens wide,
            78To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heav'n.
            79O then at last relent: is there no place
            80Left for Repentance, none for Pardon left?
            81None left but by submission; and that word
            82Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame
            83Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduc'd
            84With other promises and other vaunts
            85Then to submit, boasting I could subdue
            86Th' Omnipotent.  Ay me, they little know
            87How dearly I abide that boast so vaine,
            88Under what torments inwardly I groane;
            89While they adore me on the Throne of Hell,
            90With Diadem and Scepter high advanc'd
            91The lower still I fall, onely Supream
            92In miserie; such joy Ambition findes.
            93But say I could repent and could obtaine
            94By Act of Grace my former state; how soon
            95Would higth recal high thoughts, how soon unsay
            96What feign'd submission swore: ease would recant
            97Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
            98For never can true reconcilement grow
            99Where wounds of deadly hate have peirc'd so deep:
          100Which would but lead me to a worse relapse
          101And heavier fall: so should I purchase deare
          102Short intermission bought with double smart.
          103This knows my punisher; therefore as farr
          104From granting hee, as I from begging peace:
          105All hope excluded thus, behold in stead
          106Of us out-cast, exil'd, his new delight,
          107Mankind created, and for him this World.
          108So farwel Hope, and with Hope farwel Fear,
          109Farwel Remorse: all Good to me is lost;
          110Evil be thou my Good; by thee at least
          111Divided Empire with Heav'ns King I hold
          112By thee, and more then half perhaps will reigne;
          113As Man ere long, and this new World shall know.

          114Thus while he spake, each passion dimm'd his face
          115Thrice chang'd with pale, ire, envie and despair,
          116Which marrd his borrow'd visage, and betraid
          117Him counterfet, if any eye beheld.
          118For heav'nly mindes from such distempers foule
          119Are ever cleer.  Whereof hee soon aware,
          120Each perturbation smooth'd with outward calme,
          121Artificer of fraud; and was the first
          122That practisd falshood under saintly shew,
          123Deep malice to conceale, couch't with revenge:
          124Yet not anough had practisd to deceive
          125Uriel once warnd; whose eye pursu'd him down
          126The way he went, and on th' Assyrian mount
          127Saw him disfigur'd, more then could befall
          128Spirit of happie sort: his gestures fierce
          129He markd and mad demeanour, then alone,
          130As he suppos'd, all unobserv'd, unseen.
          131So on he fares, and to the border comes,
          132Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,
          133Now nearer, Crowns with her enclosure green,
          134As with a rural mound the champain head
          135Of a steep wilderness, whose hairie sides
          136With thicket overgrown, grottesque and wilde,
          137Access deni'd; and over head up grew
          138Insuperable highth of loftiest shade,
          139Cedar, and Pine, and Firr, and branching Palm,
          140A Silvan Scene, and as the ranks ascend
          141Shade above shade, a woodie Theatre
          142Of stateliest view.  Yet higher then thir tops
          143The verdurous wall of paradise up sprung:
          144Which to our general Sire gave prospect large
          145Into his neather Empire neighbouring round.
          146And higher then that Wall a circling row
          147Of goodliest Trees loaden with fairest Fruit,
          148Blossoms and Fruits at once of golden hue
          149Appeerd, with gay enameld colours mixt:
          150On which the Sun more glad impress'd his beams
          151Then in fair Evening Cloud, or humid Bow,
          152When God hath showrd the earth; so lovely seemd
          153That Lantskip: And of pure now purer aire
          154Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires
          155Vernal delight and joy, able to drive
          156All sadness but despair: now gentle gales
          157Fanning thir odoriferous wings dispense
          158Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole
          159Those balmie spoiles.  As when to them who saile
          160Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past
          161Mozambic, off at Sea North-East windes blow
          162Sabean Odours from the spicie shoare
          163Of Arabie the blest, with such delay
          164Well pleas'd they slack thir course, and many a League
          165Chear'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles.
          166So entertaind those odorous sweets the Fiend
          167Who came thir bane, though with them better pleas'd
          168Then Asmodeus with the fishie fume,
          169That drove him, though enamourd, from the Spouse
          170Of Tobits Son, and with a vengeance sent
          171From Media post to Aegypt, there fast bound.

          172Now to th' ascent of that steep savage Hill
          173Satan had journied on, pensive and slow;
          174But further way found none, so thick entwin'd,
          175As one continu'd brake, the undergrowth
          176Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplext
          177All path of Man or Beast that past that way:
          178One Gate there only was, and that look'd East
          179On th' other side: which when th' arch-fellon saw
          180Due entrance he disdaind, and in contempt,
          181At one slight bound high over leap'd all bound
          182Of Hill or highest Wall, and sheer within
          183Lights on his feet.  As when a prowling Wolfe,
          184Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey,
          185Watching where Shepherds pen thir Flocks at eeve
          186In hurdl'd Cotes amid the field secure,
          187Leaps o're the fence with ease into the Fould:.
          188Or as a Thief bent to unhoord the cash
          189Of some rich Burgher, whose substantial dores,
          190Cross-barrd and bolted fast, fear no assault,
          191In at the window climbs, or o're the tiles;
          192So clomb this first grand Thief into Gods Fould:
          193So since into his Church lewd Hirelings climbe.
          194Thence up he flew, and on the Tree of Life,
          195The middle Tree and highest there that grew,
          196Sat like a Cormorant; yet not true Life
          197Thereby regaind, but sat devising Death
          198To them who liv'd; nor on the vertue thought
          199Of that life-giving Plant, but only us'd
          200For prospect, what well us'd had bin the pledge
          201Of immortality.  So little knows
          202Any, but God alone, to value right
          203The good before him, but perverts best things
          204To worst abuse, or to thir meanest use.
          205Beneath him with new wonder now he views
          206To all delight of human sense expos'd
          207In narrow room Natures whole wealth, yea more,
          208A Heav'n on Earth, for blissful Paradise
          209Of God the Garden was, by him in the East
          210Of Eden planted; Eden stretchd her Line
          211From Auran Eastward to the Royal Towrs
          212Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian Kings,
          213Or where the Sons of Eden long before
          214Dwelt in Telassar: in this pleasant soile
          215His farr more pleasant Garden God ordaind;
          216Out of the fertil ground he caus'd to grow
          217All Trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste;
          218And all amid them stood the Tree of Life,
          219High eminent, blooming Ambrosial Fruit
          220Of vegetable Gold; and next to Life
          221Our Death the Tree of knowledge grew fast by,
          222Knowledge of Good bought dear by knowing ill.
          223Southward through Eden went a River large,
          224Nor chang'd his course, but through the shaggie hill
          225Pass'd underneath ingulft, for God had thrown
          226That Mountain as his Garden mould high rais'd
          227Upon the rapid current, which through veins
          228Of porous Earth with kindly thirst up drawn,
          229Rose a fresh Fountain, and with many a rill
          230Waterd the Garden; thence united fell
          231Down the steep glade, and met the neather Flood,
          232Which from his darksom passage now appeers,
          233And now divided into four main Streams,
          234Runs divers, wandring many a famous Realme
          235And Country whereof here needs no account,
          236But rather to tell how, if Art could tell,
          237How from that Saphire Fount the crisped Brooks,
          238Rowling on Orient Pearl and sands of Gold,
          239With mazie error under pendant shades
          240Ran Nectar, visiting each plant, and fed
          241Flours worthy of Paradise which not nice Art
          242In Beds and curious Knots, but Nature boon
          243Powrd forth profuse on Hill and Dale and Plaine,
          244Both where the morning Sun first warmly smote
          245The open field, and where the unpierc't shade
          246lmbround the noontide Bowrs: Thus was this place,
          247A happy rural seat of various view;
          248Groves whose rich Trees wept odorous Gumms and Balme,
          249Others whose fruit burnisht with Golden Rinde
          250Hung amiable, Hesperian Fables true,
          251If true, here only, and of delicious taste:
          252Betwixt them Lawns, or level Downs, and Flocks
          253Grasing the tender herb, were interpos'd,
          254Or palmie hilloc, or the flourie lap
          255Of som irriguous Valley spred her store,
          256Flours of all hue, and without Thorn the Rose:
          257Another side, umbrageous Grots and Caves
          258Of coole recess, o're which the mantling vine
          259Layes forth her purple Grape, and gently creeps
          260Luxuriant; mean while murmuring waters fall
          261Down the slope hills, disperst, or in a Lake,
          262That to the fringed Bank with Myrtle crownd,
          263Her chrystal mirror holds, unite thir streams.
          264The Birds thir quire apply; aires, vernal aires,
          265Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune
          266The trembling leaves, while Universal Pan
          267Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance
          268Led on th' Eternal Spring.  Not that faire field
          269Of Enna, where Proserpin gathering flours
          270Her self a fairer Floure by gloomie Dis
          271Was gatherd, which cost Ceres all that pain
          272To seek her through the world; nor that sweet Grove
          273Of Daphne by Orontes, and th' inspir'd
          274Castalian Spring, might with this Paradise
          275Of Eden strive; nor that Nyseian Ile
          276Girt with the River Triton, where old Cham,
          277Whom Gentiles Ammon call and Lybian Jove,
          278Hid Amalthea and her Florid Son
          279Young Bacchus from his Stepdame Rhea's eye;
          280Nor where Abassin Kings thir issue Guard,
          281Mount Amara, though this by som suppos'd
          282True Paradise under the Ethiop Line
          283By Nilus head, enclosd with shining Rock,
          284A whole days journy high, but wide remote
          285From this Assyrian Garden, where the Fiend
          286Saw undelighted all delight, all kind
          287Of living Creatures new to sight and strange:
          288Two of far nobler shape erect and tall,
          289Godlike erect, with native Honour clad
          290In naked Majestie seemd Lords of all,
          291And worthie seemd, for in thir looks Divine
          292The image of thir glorious Maker shon,
          293Truth, wisdome, Sanctitude severe and pure,
          294Severe but in true filial freedom plac't;
          295Whence true autoritie in men; though both
          296Not equal, as thir sex not equal seemd;
          297For contemplation hee and valour formd,
          298For softness shee and sweet attractive Grace,
          299Hee for God only, shee for God in him:
          300His fair large Front and Eye sublime declar'd
          301Absolute rule; and Hyacinthin Locks
          302Round from his parted forelock manly hung
          303Clustring, but not beneath his shoulders broad:
          304Shee as a vail down to the slender waste
          305Her unadorned golden tresses wore
          306Dissheveld, but in wanton ringlets wav'd
          307As the Vine curles her tendrils, which impli'd
          308Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway,
          309And by her yielded, by him best receivd,
          310Yielded with coy submission, modest pride,
          311And sweet reluctant amorous delay.
          312Nor those mysterious parts were then conceald,
          313Then was not guiltie shame, dishonest shame
          314Of natures works, honor dishonorable,
          315Sin-bred, how have ye troubl'd all mankind
          316With shews instead, meer shews of seeming pure,
          317And banisht from mans life his happiest life,
          318Simplicitie and spotless innocence.
          319So passd they naked on, nor shund the sight
          320Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill:
          321So hand in hand they passd, the lovliest pair
          322That ever since in loves imbraces met,
          323Adam the goodliest man of men since borne
          324His Sons, the fairest of her Daughters Eve.
          325Under a tuft of shade that on a green
          326Stood whispering soft, by a fresh Fountain side
          327They sat them down, and after no more toil
          328Of thir sweet Gardning labour then suffic'd
          329To recommend coole Zephyr, and made ease
          330More easie, wholsom thirst and appetite
          331More grateful, to thir Supper Fruits they fell,
          332Nectarine Fruits which the compliant boughes
          333Yielded them, side-long as they sat recline
          334On the soft downie Bank damaskt with flours:
          335The savourie pulp they chew, and in the rinde
          336Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming stream;
          337Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles
          338Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems
          339Fair couple, linkt in happie nuptial League,
          340Alone as they.  About them frisking playd
          341All Beasts of th' Earth, since wilde, and of all chase
          342In Wood or Wilderness, Forrest or Den;
          343Sporting the Lion rampd, and in his paw
          344Dandl'd the Kid; Bears, Tygers, Ounces, Pards,
          345Gambold before them, th' unwieldy Elephant
          346To make them mirth us'd all his might, and wreathd
          347His Lithe Proboscis; close the Serpent sly
          348Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine
          349His breaded train, and of his fatal guile
          350Gave proof unheeded; others on the grass
          351Coucht, and now fild with pasture gazing sat,
          352Or Bedward ruminating: for the Sun
          353Declin'd was hasting now with prone carreer
          354To th' Ocean Iles, and in th' ascending Scale
          355Of Heav'n the Starrs that usher Evening rose:
          356When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood,
          357Scarce thus at length faild speech recoverd sad.

          358O Hell! what doe mine eyes with grief behold,
          359Into our room of bliss thus high advanc't
          360Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps,
          361Not Spirits, yet to heav'nly Spirits bright
          362Little inferior; whom my thoughts pursue
          363With wonder, and could love, so lively shines
          364In them Divine resemblance, and such grace
          365The hand that formd them on thir shape hath pourd.
          366Ah gentle pair, yee little think how nigh
          367Your change approaches, when all these delights
          368Will vanish and deliver ye to woe,
          369More woe, the more your taste is now of joy;
          370Happie, but for so happie ill secur'd
          371Long to continue, and this high seat your Heav'n
          372Ill fenc't for Heav'n to keep out such a foe
          373As now is enterd; yet no purpos'd foe
          374To you whom I could pittie thus forlorne
          375Though I unpittied: League with you I seek,
          376And mutual amitie so streight, so close,
          377That I with you must dwell, or you with me
          378Henceforth; my dwelling haply may not please
          379Like this fair Paradise, your sense, yet such
          380Accept your Makers work; he gave it me,
          381Which I as freely give; Hell shall unfold,
          382To entertain you two, her widest Gates,
          383And send forth all her Kings; there will be room,
          384Not like these narrow limits, to receive
          385ass Your numerous ofspring; if no better place,
          386Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge
          387On you who wrong me not for him who wrongd.
          388And should I at your harmless innocence
          389Melt, as I doe, yet public reason just,
          390Honour and Empire with revenge enlarg'd,
          391By conquering this new World, compels me now
          392To do what else though damnd I should abhorre.

          393So spake the Fiend, and with necessitie,
          394The Tyrants plea, excus'd his devilish deeds.
          395Then from his loftie stand on that high Tree
          396Down he alights among the sportful Herd
          397Of those fourfooted kindes, himself now one,
          398Now other, as thir shape servd best his end
          399Neerer to view his prey, and unespi'd
          400To mark what of thir state he more might learn
          401By word or action markt: about them round
          402A Lion now he stalkes with fierie glare,
          403Then as a Tyger, who by chance hath spi'd
          404In some Purlieu two gentle Fawnes at play,
          405Strait couches close, then rising changes oft
          406His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground
          407Whence rushing he might surest seize them both
          408Grip't in each paw: When Adam first of men
          409To first of women Eve thus moving speech,
          410Turnd him all eare to hear new utterance flow.

          411Sole partner and sole part of all these joyes,
          412Dearer thy self then all; needs must the power
          413That made us, and for us this ample World
          414Be infinitly good, and of his good
          415As liberal and free as infinite,
          416That rais'd us from the dust and plac't us here
          417In all this happiness, who at his hand
          418Have nothing merited, nor can performe
          419Aught whereof hee hath need, hee who requires
          420From us no other service then to keep
          421This one, this easie charge, of all the Trees
          422In Paradise that bear delicious fruit
          423So various, not to taste that onely Tree
          424Of knowledge, planted by the Tree of Life,
          425So neer grows Death to Life, what ere Death is,
          426Som dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou knowst
          427God hath pronounc't it death to taste that Tree,
          428The only sign of our obedience left
          429Among so many signes of power and rule
          430Conferrd upon us, and Dominion giv'n
          431Over all other Creatures that possess
          432Earth, Aire, and Sea.  Then let us not think hard
          433One easie prohibition, who enjoy
          434Free leave so large to all things else, and choice
          435Unlimited of manifold delights:
          436But let us ever praise him, and extoll
          437His bountie, following our delightful task
          438To prune these growing Plants, and tend these Flours,
          439Which were it toilsom, yet with thee were sweet.

          440To whom thus Eve repli'd.  O thou for whom
          441And from whom I was formd flesh of thy flesh,
          442And without whom am to no end, my Guide
          443And Head, what thou hast said is just and right.
          444For wee to him indeed all praises owe,
          445And daily thanks, I chiefly who enjoy
          446So farr the happier Lot, enjoying thee
          447Praeeminent by so much odds, while thou
          448Like consort to thy self canst no where find.
          449That day I oft remember, when from sleep
          450I first awak't, and found my self repos'd
          451Under a shade of flours, much wondring where
          452And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.
          453Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound
          454Of waters issu'd from a Cave and spread
          455Into a liquid Plain, then stood unmov'd
          456Pure as th' expanse of Heav'n; I thither went
          457With unexperienc't thought, and laid me downe
          458On the green bank, to look into the cleer
          459Smooth Lake, that to me seemd another Skie.
          460As I bent down to look, just opposite,
          461A Shape within the watry gleam appeerd
          462Bending to look on me, I started back,
          463It started back, but pleas'd I soon returnd,
          464Pleas'd it returnd as soon with answering looks
          465Of sympathie and love; there I had fixt
          466Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire,
          467Had not a voice thus warnd me,  What thou seest,
          468What there thou seest fair Creature is thy self,
          469With thee it came and goes: but follow me,
          470And I will bring thee where no shadow staies
          471Thy coming, and thy soft imbraces, hee
          472Whose image thou art, him thou shall enjoy
          473Inseparablie thine, to him shalt beare
          474Multitudes like thy self, and thence be call'd
          475Mother of human Race: what could I doe,
          476But follow strait, invisibly thus led?
          477Till I espi'd thee, fair indeed and tall,
          478Under a Platan, yet methought less faire,
          479Less winning soft, less amiablie milde,
          480Then that smooth watry image; back I turnd,
          481Thou following cryd'st aloud, Return faire Eve,
          482Whom fli'st thou? whom thou fli'st, of him thou art,
          483His flesh, his bone; to give thee being I lent
          484Out of my side to thee, neerest my heart
          485Substantial Life, to have thee by my side
          486Henceforth an individual solace dear;
          487Part of my Soul I seek thee, and thee claim
          488My other half: with that thy gentle hand
          489Seisd mine, I yielded, and from that time see
          490How beauty is excelld by manly grace
          491And wisdom, which alone is truly fair.

          492So spake our general Mother, and with eyes
          493Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd,
          494And meek surrender, half imbracing leand
          495On our first Father, half her swelling Breast
          496Naked met his under the flowing Gold
          497Of her loose tresses hid: he in delight
          498Both of her Beauty and submissive Charms
          499Smil'd with superior Love, as Jupiter
          500On Juno smiles, when he impregns the Clouds
          501That shed May Flowers; and press'd her Matron lip
          502With kisses pure: aside the Devil turnd
          503For envie, yet with jealous leer maligne
          504Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plaind.

          505Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two
          506Imparadis't in one anothers arms
          507The happier Eden, shall enjoy thir fill
          508Of bliss on bliss, while I to Hell am thrust,
          509Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire,
          510Among our other torments not the least,
          511Still unfulfill'd with pain of longing pines;
          512Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd
          513From thir own mouths; all is not theirs it seems:
          514One fatal Tree there stands of Knowledge call'd,
          515Forbidden them to taste: Knowledge forbidd'n?
          516Suspicious, reasonless.  Why should thir Lord
          517Envie them that? can it be sin to know,
          518Can it be death? and do they onely stand
          519By Ignorance, is that thir happie state,
          520The proof of thir obedience and thir faith?
          521O fair foundation laid whereon to build
          522Thir ruine! Hence I will excite thir minds
          523With more desire to know, and to reject
          524Envious commands, invented with designe
          525To keep them low whom knowledge might exalt
          526Equal with Gods; aspiring to be such,
          527They taste and die: what likelier can ensue?
          528But first with narrow search I must walk round
          529This Garden, and no corner leave unspi'd;
          530A chance but chance may lead where I may meet
          531Some wandring Spirit of Heav'n, by Fountain side,
          532Or in thick shade retir'd, from him to draw
          533What further would be learnt.  Live while ye may,
          534Yet happie pair; enjoy, till I return,
          535Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed.

          536So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd,
          537But with sly circumspection, and began
          538Through wood, through waste, o're hill, o're dale his roam.
          539Mean while in utmost Longitude, where Heav'n
          540With Earth and Ocean meets, the setting Sun
          541Slowly descended, and with right aspect
          542Against the eastern Gate of Paradise
          543Leveld his eevning Rayes: it was a Rock
          544Of Alablaster, pil'd up to the Clouds,
          545Conspicuous farr, winding with one ascent
          546Accessible from Earth, one entrance high;
          547The rest was craggie cliff, that overhung
          548Still as it rose, impossible to climbe.
          549Betwixt these rockie Pillars Gabriel sat
          550Chief of th' Angelic Guards, awaiting night;
          551About him exercis'd Heroic Games
          552Th' unarmed Youth of Heav'n, but nigh at hand
          553Celestial Armourie, Shields, Helmes, and Speares,
          554Hung high with Diamond flaming, and with Gold.
          555Thither came Uriel, gliding through the Eeven
          556On a Sun beam, swift as a shooting Starr
          557In Autumn thwarts the night, when vapors fir'd
          558Impress the Air, and shews the Mariner
          559From what point of his Compass to beware
          560Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste.

          561Gabriel, to thee thy course by Lot hath giv'n
          562Charge and strict watch that to this happie Place
          563No evil thing approach or enter in;
          564This day at highth of Noon came to my Spheare
          565A Spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know
          566More of th' Almighties works, and chiefly Man
          567Gods latest Image: I describ'd his way
          568Bent all on speed, and markt his Aerie Gate;
          569But in the Mount that lies from Eden North,
          570Where he first lighted, soon discernd his looks
          571Alien from Heav'n, with passions foul obscur'd:
          572Mine eye pursu'd him still, but under shade
          573Lost sight of him; one of the banisht crew
          574I fear, hath ventur'd from the deep, to raise
          575New troubles; him thy care must be to find.

          576To whom the winged Warriour thus returnd:
          577Uriel, no wonder if thy perfet sight,
          578Amid the Suns bright circle where thou sitst,
          579See farr and wide: in at this Gate none pass
          580The vigilance here plac't, but such as come
          581Well known from Heav'n; and since Meridian hour
          582No Creature thence: if Spirit of other sort,
          583So minded, have oreleapt these earthie bounds
          584On purpose, hard thou knowst it to exclude
          585Spiritual substance with corporeal barr.
          586But if within the circuit of these walks,
          587In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom
          588Thou tellst, by morrow dawning I shall know.

          589So promis'd hee, and Uriel to his charge
          590Returnd on that bright beam, whose point now raisd
          591Bore him slope downward to the Sun now fall'n
          592Beneath th' Azores; whither the prime Orb,
          593Incredible how swift, had thither rowl'd
          594Diurnal, or this less volubil Earth
          595By shorter flight to th' East, had left him there
          596Arraying with reflected Purple and Gold
          597The Clouds that on his Western Throne attend:
          598Now came still Eevning on, and Twilight gray
          599Had in her sober Liverie all things clad;
          600Silence accompanied, for Beast and Bird,
          601They to thir grassie Couch, these to thir Nests
          602Were slunk, all but the wakeful Nightingale;
          603She all night long her amorous descant sung;
          604Silence was pleas'd: now glow'd the Firmament
          605With living Saphirs: Hesperus that led
          606The starrie Host, rode brightest, till the Moon
          607Rising in clouded Majestie, at length
          608Apparent Queen unvaild her peerless light,
          609And o're the dark her Silver Mantle threw.

          610When Adam thus to Eve: Fair Consort, th' hour
          611Of night, and all things now retir'd to rest
          612Mind us of like repose, since God hath set
          613Labour and rest, as day and night to men
          614Successive, and the timely dew of sleep
          615Now falling with soft slumbrous weight inclines
          616Our eye-lids; other Creatures all day long
          617Rove idle unimploid, and less need rest;
          618Man hath his daily work of body or mind
          619Appointed, which declares his Dignitie,
          620And the regard of Heav'n on all his waies;
          621While other Animals unactive range,
          622And of thir doings God takes no account.
          623To morrow ere fresh Morning streak the East
          624With first approach of light, we must be ris'n,
          625And at our pleasant labour, to reform
          626Yon flourie Arbors, yonder Allies green,
          627Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown,
          628That mock our scant manuring, and require
          629More hands then ours to lop thir wanton growth:
          630Those Blossoms also, and those dropping Gumms,
          631That lie bestrowne unsightly and unsmooth,
          632Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease;
          633Mean while, as Nature wills, Night bids us rest.

          634To whom thus Eve with perfet beauty adornd.
          635My Author and Disposer, what thou bidst
          636Unargu'd I obey; so God ordains,
          637God is thy Law, thou mine: to know no more
          638Is womans happiest knowledge and her praise.
          639With thee conversing I forget all time,
          640All seasons and thir change, all please alike.
          641Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
          642With charm of earliest Birds; pleasant the Sun
          643When first on this delightful Land he spreads
          644His orient Beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flour,
          645Glistring with dew; fragrant the fertil earth
          646After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
          647Of grateful Eevning milde, then silent Night
          648With this her solemn Bird and this fair Moon,
          649And these the Gemms of Heav'n, her starrie train:
          650But neither breath of Morn when she ascends
          651With charm of earliest Birds, nor rising Sun
          652On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, floure,
          653Glistring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
          654Nor grateful Eevning mild, nor silent Night
          655With this her solemn Bird, nor walk by Moon,
          656Or glittering Starr-light without thee is sweet.
          657But wherfore all night long shine these, for whom
          658This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?

          659To whom our general Ancestor repli'd.
          660Daughter of God and Man, accomplisht Eve,
          661Those have thir course to finish, round the Earth,
          662By morrow Eevning, and from Land to Land
          663In order, though to Nations yet unborn,
          664Ministring light prepar'd, they set and rise;
          665Least total darkness should by Night regaine
          666Her old possession, and extinguish life
          667In Nature and all things, which these soft fires
          668Not only enlighten, but with kindly heate
          669Of various influence foment and warme,
          670Temper or nourish, or in part shed down
          671Thir stellar vertue on all kinds that grow
          672On Earth, made hereby apter to receive
          673Perfection from the Suns more potent Ray.
          674These then, though unbeheld in deep of night,
          675Shine not in vain, nor think, though men were none,
          676That heav'n would want spectators, God want praise;
          677Millions of spiritual Creatures walk the Earth
          678Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep:.
          679All these with ceasless praise his works behold
          680Both day and night: how often from the steep
          681Of echoing Hill or Thicket have we heard
          682Celestial voices to the midnight air,
          683Sole, or responsive each to others note
          684Singing thir great Creator: oft in bands
          685While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk
          686With Heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds
          687In full harmonic number joind, thir songs
          688Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven.

          689Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd
          690On to thir blissful Bower; it was a place
          691Chos'n by the sovran Planter, when he fram'd
          692All things to mans delightful use; the roofe
          693Of thickest covert was inwoven shade
          694Laurel and Mirtle, and what higher grew
          695Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side
          696Acanthus, and each odorous bushie shrub
          697Fenc'd up the verdant wall; each beauteous flour,
          698Iris all hues, Roses, and Gessamin
          699Rear'd high thir flourisht heads between, and wrought
          700Mosaic; underfoot the Violet,
          701Crocus, and Hyacinth with rich inlay
          702Broiderd the ground, more colour'd then with stone
          703Of costliest Emblem: other Creature here
          704Beast, Bird, Insect, or Worm durst enter none;
          705Such was thir awe of Man.  In shadie Bower
          706More sacred and sequesterd, though but feignd,
          707Pan or Silvanus never slept, nor Nymph,
          708Nor Faunus haunted.  Here in close recess
          709With Flowers, Garlands, and sweet-smelling Herbs
          710Espoused Eve deckt first her nuptial Bed,
          711And heav'nly Quires the Hymenaean sung,
          712What day the genial Angel to our Sire
          713Brought her in naked beauty more adorn'd,
          714More lovely then Pandora, whom the Gods
          715Endowd with all thir gifts, and O too like
          716In sad event, when to the unwiser Son
          717Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnar'd
          718Mankind with her faire looks, to be aveng'd
          719On him who had stole Joves authentic fire.

          720Thus at thir shadie Lodge arriv'd, both stood
          721Both turnd, and under op'n Skie ador'd
          722The God that made both Skie, Air, Earth and Heav'n
          723Which they beheld, the Moons resplendent Globe
          724And starrie Pole: Thou also mad'st the Night,
          725Maker Omnipotent, and thou the Day,
          726Which we in our appointed work imployd
          727Have finisht happie in our mutual help
          728And mutual love, the Crown of all our bliss
          729Ordaind by thee, and this delicious place
          730For us too large, where thy abundance wants
          731Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground.
          732But thou hast promis'd from us two a Race
          733To fill the Earth, who shall with us extoll
          734Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake,
          735And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep.

          736This said unanimous, and other Rites
          737Observing none, but adoration pure
          738Which God likes best, into thir inmost bowre
          739Handed they went; and eas'd the putting off
          740These troublesom disguises which wee wear,
          741Strait side by side were laid, nor turnd I weene
          742Adam from his fair Spouse, nor Eve the Rites
          743Mysterious of connubial Love refus'd:
          744Whatever Hypocrites austerely talk
          745Of puritie and place and innocence,
          746Defaming as impure what God declares
          747Pure, and commands to som, leaves free to all.
          748Our Maker bids increase, who bids abstain
          749But our destroyer, foe to God and Man?
          750Haile wedded Love, mysterious Law, true source
          751Of human ofspring, sole proprietie,
          752In Paradise of all things common else.
          753By thee adulterous lust was driv'n from men
          754Among the bestial herds to raunge, by thee
          755Founded in Reason, Loyal, just, and Pure,
          756Relations dear, and all the Charities
          757Of Father, Son, and Brother first were known.
          758Farr be it, that I should write thee sin or blame,
          759Or think thee unbefitting holiest place,
          760Perpetual Fountain of Domestic sweets,
          761Whose bed is undefil'd and chaste pronounc't,
          762Present, or past, as Saints and Patriarchs us'd.
          763Here Love his golden shafts imploies, here lights
          764His constant Lamp, and waves his purple wings,
          765Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile
          766Of Harlots, loveless, joyless, unindeard,
          767Casual fruition, nor in Court Amours
          768Mixt Dance, or wanton Mask, or Midnight Bal,
          769Or Serenate, which the starv'd Lover sings
          770To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain.
          771These lulld by Nightingales imbraceing slept,
          772And on thir naked limbs the flourie roof
          773Showrd Roses, which the Morn repair'd.  Sleep on
          774Blest pair; and O yet happiest if ye seek
          775No happier state, and know to know no more.

          776Now had night measur'd with her shaddowie Cone
          777Half way up Hill this vast Sublunar Vault,
          778And from thir Ivorie Port the Cherubim
          779Forth issuing at th' accustomd hour stood armd
          780To thir night watches in warlike Parade,
          781When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake.

          782Uzziel, half these draw off, and coast the South
          783With strictest watch; these other wheel the North,
          784Our circuit meets full West. As flame they part
          785Half wheeling to the Shield, half to the Spear.
          786From these, two strong and suttle Spirits he calld
          787That neer him stood, and gave them thus in charge.
          788Ithuriel and Zephon, with wingd speed
          789Search through this Garden, leave unsearcht no nook,
          790But chiefly where those two fair Creatures Lodge,
          791Now laid perhaps asleep secure of harme.
          792This Eevning from the Sun's decline arriv'd
          793Who tells of som infernal Spirit seen
          794Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escap'd
          795The barrs of Hell, on errand bad no doubt:
          796Such where ye find, seise fast, and hither bring.

          797So saying, on he led his radiant Files,
          798Daz'ling the Moon; these to the Bower direct
          799In search of whom they sought: him there they found
          800Squat like a Toad, close at the eare of Eve;
          801Assaying by his Devilish art to reach
          802The Organs of her Fancie, and with them forge
          803Illusions as he list, Phantasms and Dreams,
          804Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint
          805Th' animal Spirits that from pure blood arise
          806Like gentle breaths from Rivers pure, thence raise
          807At least distemperd, discontented thoughts,
          808Vaine hopes, vaine aimes, inordinate desires
          809Blown up with high conceits ingendring pride.
          810Him thus intent Ithuriel with his Spear
          811Touch'd lightly; for no falshood can endure
          812Touch of Celestial temper, but returns
          813Of force to its own likeness: up he starts
          814Discoverd and surpriz'd.  As when a spark
          815Lights on a heap of nitrous Powder, laid
          816Fit for the Tun som Magazin to store
          817Against a rumord Warr, the Smuttie graine
          818With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the Aire:
          819So started up in his own shape the Fiend.
          820Back stept those two faire Angels half amaz'd
          821So sudden to behold the grieslie King;
          822Yet thus, unmovd with fear, accost him soon.

          823Which of those rebell Spirits adjudg'd to Hell
          824Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison, and transform'd,
          825Why satst thou like an enemie in waite
          826Here watching at the head of these that sleep?

          827Know ye not then said Satan, fill'd with scorn,
          828Know ye not mee? ye knew me once no mate
          829For you, there sitting where ye durst not soare;
          830Not to know mee argues your selves unknown,
          831The lowest of your throng; or if ye know,
          832Why ask ye, and superfluous begin
          833Your message, like to end as much in vain?
          834To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn.
          835Think not, revolted Spirit, thy shape the same,
          836Or undiminisht brightness, to be known
          837As when thou stoodst in Heav'n upright and pure;
          838That Glorie then, when thou no more wast good,
          839Departed from thee, and thou resembl'st now
          840Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foule.
          841But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account
          842To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep
          843This place inviolable, and these from harm.

          844So spake the Cherube, and his grave rebuke
          845Severe in youthful beautie, added grace
          846Invincible: abasht the Devil stood,
          847And felt how awful goodness is, and saw
          848Vertue in her shape how lovly, saw, and pin'd
          849His loss; but chiefly to find here observd
          850His lustre visibly impar'd; yet seemd
          851Undaunted.  If I must contend, said he,
          852Best with the best, the Sender not the sent,
          853Or all at once; more glorie will be wonn,
          854Or less be lost.  Thy fear, said Zephon bold,
          855Will save us trial what the least can doe
          856Single against thee wicked, and thence weak.

          857The Fiend repli'd not, overcome with rage;
          858But like a proud Steed reind, went hautie on,
          859Chaumping his iron curb: to strive or flie
          860He held it vain; awe from above had quelld
          861His heart, not else dismai'd.  Now drew they nigh
          862The western Point, where those half-rounding guard
          863just met, and closing stood in squadron joind
          864Awaiting next command.  To whom thir Chief
          865Gabriel from the Front thus calld aloud.

          866O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet
          867Hasting this way, and now by glimps discerne
          868Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade,
          869And with them comes a third of Regal port,
          870But faded splendor wan; who by his gate
          871And fierce demeanour seems the Prince of Hell,
          872Not likely to part hence without contest;
          873Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.

          874He scarce had ended, when those two approachd
          875And brief related whom they brought, where found,
          876How busied, in what form and posture coucht.
          877To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake.

          878Why hast thou, Satan broke the bounds prescrib'd
          879To thy transgressions, and disturbd the charge
          880Of others, who approve not to transgress
          881By thy example, but have power and right
          882To question thy bold entrance on this place;
          883Imploi'd it seems to violate sleep, and those
          884Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?

          885To whom thus Satan, with contemptuous brow.
          886Gabriel, thou hadst in Heav'n th' esteem of wise,
          887And such I held thee; but this question askt
          888Puts me in doubt.  Lives ther who loves his pain?
          889Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell,
          890Though thither doomd? Thou wouldst thy self, no doubt,
          891And boldly venture to whatever place
          892Farthest from pain, where thou mightest hope to change
          893Torment with ease, and soonest recompence
          894Dole with delight, which in this place I sought;
          895To thee no reason; who knowst only good,
          896But evil hast not tri'd: and wilt object
          897His will who bound us? let him surer barr
          898His Iron Gates, if he intends our stay
          899In that dark durance: thus much what was askt.
          900The rest is true, they found me where they say;
          901But that implies not violence or harme.

          902Thus he in scorn.The warlike Angel mov'd,
          903Disdainfully half smiling thus repli'd.
          904O loss of one in Heav'n to judge of wise,
          905Since Satan fell, whom follie overthrew,
          906And now returns him from his prison scap't,
          907Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise
          908Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither
          909Unlicenc't from his bounds in Hell prescrib'd;
          910So wise he judges it to fly from pain
          911However, and to scape his punishment.
          912So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrauth,
          913Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight
          914Seavenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell,
          915Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain
          916Can equal anger infinite provok't.
          917But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee
          918Came not all Hell broke loose? is pain to them
          919Less pain, less to be fled, or thou then they
          920Less hardie to endure? courageous Chief,
          921The first in flight from pain, had'st thou alledg'd
          922To thy deserted host this cause of flight,
          923Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive.

          924To which the Fiend thus answerd frowning stern.
          925Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain,
          926Insulting Angel, well thou knowst I stood
          927Thy fiercest, when in Battel to thy aide
          928Thy blasting volied Thunder made all speed
          929And seconded thy else not dreaded Spear.
          930But still thy words at random, as before,
          931Argue thy inexperience what behooves
          932From hard assaies and ill successes past
          933A faithful Leader, not to hazard all
          934Through wayes of danger by himself untri'd.
          935I therefore, I alone first undertook
          936To wing the desolate Abyss, and spie
          937This new created World, whereof in Hell
          938Fame is not silent, here in hope to find
          939Better abode, and my afflicted Powers
          940To settle here on Earth, or in mid Aire;
          941Though for possession put to try once more
          942What thou and thy gay Legions dare against;
          943Whose easier business were to serve thir Lord
          944High up in Heav'n, with songs to hymne his Throne,
          945And practis'd distances to cringe, not fight.

          946To whom the warriour Angel, soon repli'd.
          947To say and strait unsay, pretending first
          948Wise to flie pain, professing next the Spie,
          949Argues no Leader but a lyar trac't,
          950Satan, and couldst thou faithful add? O name,
          951O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd!
          952Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew?
          953Armie of Fiends, fit body to fit head;
          954Was this your discipline and faith ingag'd,
          955Your military obedience, to dissolve
          956Allegeance to th' acknowldg'd Power supream?
          957And thou sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem
          958Patron of liberty, who more then thou
          959Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilly ador'd
          960Heav'ns awful Monarch? wherefore but in hope
          961To dispossess him, and thy self to reigne?
          962But mark what I arreede thee now, avant;
          963Flie thither whence thou fledst: if from this houre
          964Within these hallowd limits thou appeer,
          965Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chaind,
          966And Seale thee so, as henceforth not to scorne
          967The facil gates of hell too slightly barrd.

          968So threatn'd hee, but Satan to no threats
          969Gave heed, but waxing more in rage repli'd.

          970Then when I am thy captive talk of chaines,
          971Proud limitarie Cherube, but ere then
          972Farr heavier load thy self expect to feel
          973From my prevailing arme, though Heavens King
          974Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy Compeers,
          975Us'd to the yoak, draw'st his triumphant wheels
          976In progress through the rode of Heav'n Star-pav'd.

          977While thus he spake, th' Angelic Squadron bright
          978Turnd fierie red, sharpning in mooned hornes
          979Thir Phalanx, and began to hemm him round
          980With ported Spears, as thick as when a field
          981Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends
          982Her bearded Grove of ears, which way the wind
          983Swayes them; the careful Plowman doubting stands
          984Least on the threshing floore his hopeful sheaves
          985Prove chaff. On th' other side Satan allarm'd
          986Collecting all his might dilated stood,
          987Like Teneriff or Atlas unremov'd:
          988His stature reacht the Skie, and on his Crest
          989Sat horror Plum'd; nor wanted in his graspe
          990What seemd both Spear and Shield: now dreadful deeds
          991Might have ensu'd, nor onely Paradise
          992In this commotion, but the Starrie Cope
          993Of Heav'n perhaps, or all the Elements
          994At least had gon to rack, disturbd and torne
          995With violence of this conflict, had not soon
          996Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray
          997Hung forth in Heav'n his golden Scales, yet seen
          998Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion signe,
          999Wherein all things created first he weighd,
        1000The pendulous round Earth with ballanc't Aire
        1001In counterpoise, now ponders all events,
        1002Battels and Realms: in these he put two weights
        1003The sequel each of parting and of fight;
        1004The latter quick up flew, and kickt the beam;
        1005Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the Fiend.

        1006Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowst mine,
        1007Neither our own but giv'n; what follie then
        1008To boast what Arms can doe, since thine no more
        1009Then Heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubld now
        1010To trample thee as mire: for proof look up,
        1011And read thy Lot in yon celestial Sign
        1012Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how weak,
        1013If thou resist. The Fiend lookt up and knew
        1014His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled
        1015Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.


136] grottesque (1667); gottesque (1674).

Online text copyright © 2003, Ian Lancashire for the Department of English, University of Toronto.
Transcription courtesy of Roy Flannagan.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.

Original text: John Milton, Paradise Lost, 2nd edn. (London: Samuel Simmons, 1674). A transcription by Roy Flannagan of the second (1674) edition in John Milton's Complete Poetical Works Reproduced in Photographic Facsimile. A Critical Text Edition, ed. Harris Francis Fletcher, III (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1948). PR 3551 F52 Robarts Library. As published in Ian Lancashire, in collaboration with John Bradley, Willard McCarty, Michael Stairs, and T. R. Wooldridge, Using TACT and Electronic Texts: Text-Analysis Computing Tools Vers. 2.1 for MS-DOS and PC DOS (New York: Modern Language Association of America, 1996). CD-ROM.
First publication date: 1667
RPO poem editor: Ian Lancashire
RP edition: 2002
Recent editing: 1:2002/6/9

Composition date: 1650 - 1665
Rhyme: unrhyming

Other poems by John Milton