vails continuously throughout the whole of the first and second books; and the beautiful equally abounds in other parts of the poem. As, however, the necessity of making a choice is imposed upon us, we venture, though with much diffidence, to select the following passages:
* * Him the Almighty Power
Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky, With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless perdition; there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire,
Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms.
Nine times the space that measures day and night To mortal men, he with his horrid crew
Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf, Confounded though immortal: But his doom Reserv'd him to more wrath; for now the thought Both of lost happiness and lasting pain
Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes, That witness'd huge affliction and dismay, Mix'd with obdurate pride and steadfast hate: At once, as far as angels' ken, he views The dismal situation waste and wild:
A dungeon horrible on all sides round,
As one great furnace flam'd; yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible
Serv'd only to discover sights of woe,
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell: hope never comes That comes to all: but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed
With ever-burning sulphur unconsum'd: Such place eternal justice had prepar'd For those rebellious; here their pris'n ordain'd In utter darkness, and their portion set
As far removed from God and light of heaven, As from the centre thrice to th' utmost pole. Oh how unlike the place from whence they fell! There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelm'd With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, He soon discerns, and weltering by his side One next himself in power, and next in crime, Long after known in Palestine, and nam'd Beelzebub.
THE ASSEMBLING OF THE FALLEN ANGELS.
All these and more came flocking; but with looks Downcast and damp, yet such wherein appear'd Obscure some glimpse of joy, t' have found their chief Not in despair, t' have found themselves not lost In loss itself; which on his countenance cast
Like doubtful hue: but he, his wonted pride
Soon recollecting, with high words that bore Semblance of worth, not substance, gently raised Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears. Then straight commands that, at the warlike sound Of trumpets loud and clarions, be uprear'd His mighty standard; that proud honour claim'd Azazel at his right, a cherub tall;
Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl'd Th' imperial ensign, which full high advanc'd, Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind, With gems and golden lustre rich emblaz'd Seraphic arms and trophies, all the while Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds: At which the universal host upsent
A shout, that tore Hell's concave, and beyond Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand banners rise into the air With orient colours waving: with them rose A forest huge of spears; and thronging helms Appear'd, and serried shields in thick array, Of depth unmeasurable: anon they move In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood Or flutes and soft recorders; such as rais'd To height of noblest temper heroes old Arming to battle; and, instead of rage, Deliberate valour breathed, firm and unmov'd, With dread of death, to flight or foul retreat; Nor wanting power to mitigate and 'suage, With solemn touches, troubled thoughts, and chase Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain, From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they Breathing united force, with fixed thought Mov'd on in silence to soft pipes, that charm'd Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil; and now Advanc'd in view, they stand, a horrid front Of dreadful length, and dazzling arms, in guise Of warriors old with order'd spear, and shield Awaiting what command their mighty chief Had to impose: he through the armed files Darts his experienc'd eye, and soon traverse The whole battalion, views their order due, Their visages and statures as of Gods; Their number last he sums. And now his heart Distends with pride, and hard'ning in his strength Glories; for never since created man
Met such embodied force as, nam'd with these, Could merit more than that small infantry Warr'd on by cranes, through all the giant brood Of Phlegra with th' heroic race were join'd, That fought at Thebes, and Ilium on each side Mix'd with auxiliar gods; and what resounds In fable or romance of Uther's son, Begirt with British and Armoric knights;
And all who since, baptiz'd or infidel, Jousted in Aspramont or Montalban, Damasco or Morocco, or Trebisond;
Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore, When Charlemain with all his peerage fell By Fontarabia. Thus far these beyond Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed Their dread commander; he above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tower; his form had not yet lost All her original brightness, nor appear'd Less than Archangel ruin'd, and th' excess Of glory obscur'd: as when the sun new risen Looks through the horizontal misty air, Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd so, yet shone Above them all th' Archangel: but his face Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd, and care Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows Of dauntless courage and considerate pride, Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but cast Signs of remorse and passion to behold The fellows of his crime, the followers rather, (Far other once beheld in bliss) condemn'd Forever now to have their lot in pain; Millions of spirits for his fault amerc'd Of Heav'n, and from eternal splendours flung For his revolt, yet faithful how they stood, Their glory wither'd: as when Heav'ns fire Hath scath'd the forest oaks, or mountain pines, With singed top their stately growth, though bare, Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepar'd To speak whereat their doubled ranks they bend From wing to wing, and half inclose him round With all his peers: attention held them mute. Thrice he essay'd; and thrice, in spite of scorn, Tears such as angels weep, burst forth; at last Words interwove with sighs, found out their way.
THE GARDEN OF EDEN.
So on he fares, and to the border comes Of Eden, where delicious Paradise. Now nearer, crowns with her inclosure green, As with a rural mound, the champaign head Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, Access denied, and overhead upgrew 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 enamell'd colours mix'd; Of which the sun more glad impress'd his beams Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, When God hath shower'd the earth; so lovely seem'd That landscape; 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 stole Those balmy spoils: as when to them who sail Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past Mozambic, off at sea north-west winds blow Sabean odours from the spicy shore
Of Araby the blest; with such delay
Well pleas'd they slack their course, and many a league, Cheer'd with the grateful smell, old Ocean smiles.
EVE'S ACCOUNT OF HER CREATION.
I first awak'd, and found myself repos'd
Under a shade of flow'rs, much wond'ring where And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. Not distant far from thence a murmur'ing sound Of waters issued from a cave, and spread Into a liquid plain, then stood unmov'd, Pure as the expanse of Heaven; I thither went With inexperienced 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 watery 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 Thy coming and thy soft embraces; he Whose image thou art; him thou shalt enjoy, Inseparably thine; to him shalt bear Multitudes like thyself, and thence be call'd Mother of human race.' What could I do, But follow straight, invisibly thus led? Till I espied thee, fair indeed and tall,
Under a plantain; yet methought less fair, Less winning soft, less amiably mild,
Than that smooth watery image: back I turn'd; Thou following cry'st aloud, 'Return, fair Eve,
Whom fly'st thou? whom thou fly'st of him thou art,
His flesh, his bone: to give thee being I lent,
Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, Substantial life to have thee by my side 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 flowers, and press'd her matron lip With kisses pure.
These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above the heav'ns To us invisible, or dimly seen
In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels for ye behold Him, and with songs, And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle His throne rejoicing; ye in heav'n: On earth join all ye creatures, to extol Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end! Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day; that crown'st the smiling morn, With thy bright circlet, praise Him in thy sphere While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou sun! of this world both eye and soul, Acknowledge Him thy greater; sound His praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon has gain'd, and when thou fall'st. Moon! that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies;
And ye five other wand'ring fires! that move
In mystic dance not without song, resound
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