Down from the verge of heav'n, eternal wrauth Burnt after them to the bottomless pit.
Hell heard th'unfufferable noife, hell faw Heav'n ruining from heav'n and would have fled Affrighted; but strict fate had caft too deep. Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. Nine days they fell; confounded chaos roar'd, And felt tenfold confufion in their fall Through his wilde anarchie, so huge a rout Incumber'd him with ruin: hell at last Yawning receiv'd them whole, and on them clos'd, Hell their fit habitation fraught with fire Unquenchable, the house of woe and paine. Disburden'd heav'n rejoic'd, and foon repair'd Her mural breach, returning whence it rowl'd. Sole victor from th'expulfion of his foes Meffiah his triumphal chariot turn'd:
To meet him all his faints, who filent stood Eye witneffes of his almightie acts,
With jubilie advanc'd; and as they went, Shaded with branching palme, each order bright, Sung triumph, and him fung victorious king, Son, heire, and lord, to him dominion giv'n, Worthieft to reign: he celebrated rode Triumphant through mid heay'n, into the courts And temple of his mightie, father thron'd On high; who into glorie him receiv'd, Where now he fits at the right hand of blifs.
Thus measuring things in heav'n by things on earth, At thy request, and that thou maist beware
By what is paft, to thee I have reveal'd
What might have else to human race been hid; The discord which befel, and war in heav'n Among th'angelic powers, and the deep fall Of those too high aspiring, who rebell'd With Satan, he who envies now thy ftate, Who now is plotting how he may feduce Thee alfo from obedience, that with him Bereav'd of happiness thou maist partake His punishment, eternal miserie ;
Which would be all his folace and revenge, As a despite done against the most high, Thee once to gain companion of his woe. But lift'n not to his temptations, warne Thy weaker; let it profit thee to have heard By terrible example the reward
Of disobedience; firm they might have stood,} Yet fell; remember, and fear to tranfgrefs.
The End of the Sixth Books
ESCEND from heav'n, Uranià, by that name If rightly thou art call'd, whose voice divine Following above th’olympian hill I foare, Above the flight of Pegasean wing.
The meaning, not the name I call: for thou Nor of the mufes nine, nor on the top Of old olympus dwell'st, but heav'nly born. Before the hills appeered, or fountain flow'd, Thou with eternal wisdom didft converfe, Wisdom thy fifter, and with her didft play In presence of th'almighty father, pleas'd With thy celeftial fong. Up led by thee Into the heav'n of heav'ns I have prefum'd, An earthlie guest, and drawn empyreal air, Thy tempring; with like fafetie guided down Return me to my native element:
Leaft from this flying fteed unrein'd, (as once Bellerophon, though from a lower clime) Difmounted, on th'Aleian field I fall
Erroneous there to wander and forlorne.
Half yet remains unfung, but narrower bound Within the visible diurnal sphear;
Standing on earth, not rapt above the pole, More fafe I fing with mortal voice, unchang'd' To hoarce or mute, though fall'n on evil dayes,
On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues ; In darkness, and with dangers compast round, And folitude; yet not alone, white thou Vifit'st my flumbers nightly, or when morn Purples the eaft: still govern thou my song, Urania, and fit audience find, though few. But drive far off the barbarous diffonance Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian-bard In Rhodope, where woods and rocks had eares To rapture, till the favage clamour drown'd Both harp and voice; nor could the muse defend Her fon. So fail not thou, who thee implores: For thou art heav'nlie, the an empty dream,
Say goddefs, what enfu'd when Raphael, The affable arch-angel, had forwarn'd Adam by dire example to beware Apoftafie, by what befell in heav'n To thofe apoftates, least the like befall i In Paradife to Adam or his race,
Charg'd not to touch the interdicted tree, If they tranfgrefs, and flight that fole command, So easily obey'd amid the choice
Of all taftes elfe to pleafe their appetite,
Though wandring. He with his conforted Eve The ftorie heard attentive, and was fill'd
With admiration, and deep muse to hear Of things so high and strange, things to their thought So unimaginable as hate in heav'n,
And war fo neer the peace of God in blifs
With fuch confusion: but the evil foon
Driv'n back redounded as a flood on those From whom it sprung, impossible to mix With bleffednefs. Whence Adam foon repeal'd The doubts that in his heart arose: and now Led on, yet finless, with defire to know
What neerer might concern him, how this world Of heav'n and earth confpicuous first began, When, and whereof created, for what cause, What with Eder or without was done Before his memorie, as one whose drouth Yet scarce allay'd still eyes the current streame, Whofe liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, Proceeded thus to ask his heav'nly guest.
Great things, and full of wonder in our ears, Far differing rom this world, thou haft reveal'd Divine interpreter, by favour fent
Down from the empyrean to forwarne
Us timely of what might else have been our lofs, Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach :: For which to the infinitly good we owe Immortal thanks, and his admonishment Receave with folemn purpose to observe - Immutably his fovran will, the end
But fince thou haft voutfaft
Gently for our inftruction to impart
Things above earthly thought, which yet concern'd Our knowing, as to highest wisdom seem'd, Deign to defcend now lower, and relate - What may no less perhaps availe us known, How first began this heav'n which we behold i Distant so high, with moving fires adorn'd
« PreviousContinue » |