Cowper's Milton [the poetical works, with life, notes and tr. by W. Cowper. Ed. by W. Hayley].

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE THE FIRST.

God the Father-Chorus of Angels.

RAISE
AISE from this dark abyss thy horrid visage;

O Lucifer, aggriev'd by light so potent,

Shrink from the blaze of these refulgent planets,

And pant beneath the rays of no fierce sun;
Read in the sacred volumes of the sky,

The mighty wonders of a hand divine.
Behold thou frantic rebel

How easy is the task,

To the great Sire of Worlds,

To raise his empyrean seat sublime:

Lifting humility

Thither whence pride hath fallen

From thence with bitter grief,

Inhabitant of fire, and mole of darkness,

Let the perverse behold,

Despairing his escape, and my compassion,

His own perdition in another's good;

And Heav'n now clos'd to him, to others open'd,

And sighing from the bottom of his heart.

Let him in homage to my pow'er exclaim,
Ah this creative Sire,

(Wretch as I am) I see,

Hath need of nothing but himself alone

To re-establish all.

The Seraphim sing.

O scene worth heavenly musing,

With sun and moon their glorious light diffusing;

Where to Angelic voices,

Sphere circling sphere rejoices,

How dost thou rise, exciting

Man to fond contemplation

Of his benign creation.

The Cherubim sing.

The volume of the stars,

The sov'reign Author plann'd,

Inscribing it with his eternal hand,

And his benignant aim

Their beams in lucid characters proclaim,

And man in these delighting;

Feels their bright beams inviting,

And seems tho' prison'd in these mortal bars,
Walking on earth to mingle with thee stars

God the Father.

Angels desert your Heaven! with you to Earth,

That Power descends, whom Heaven accompanies; Let each spectator of these works sublime

Behold, with meek devotion,

Earth into flesh transform'd, and clay to man,

Man to a sovereign lord,

And souls to Seraphim.

The Seraphim sing.

Now let us cleave the sky with wings of gold,
The world be paradise,

Since to its fruitful breast,

Now the great sov'reign of our quire descends;
Now let us cleave the sky with wings of gold;
Strew yourselves flow'rs beneath the step divine,
Ye rivals of the stars!

Summon'd from every sphere

Ye gems of heav'n, heav'n's radiant wealth appear;
Now let us cleave the sky with wfngs of gold.
God the Father.

Behold ye springing herbs, and new-born flow'rs,

The step that used to press the stars alone

And the sun's spacious road,

This day begins, along the sylvan scene,

To leave its grand impression :

To low materials now I stretch my hand,

To form a work sublime.

The Angels sing.

Lament, lament in anguish,

Angel to God rebellious,

See, on a sudden rise

The creature doom'd to fill thy radiant seat,
Foolish thy pride took fire

Contemplating thy birth;

But he o'er pride shall triumph,

Acknowledging he sprung from humble dust.
From hence he shall acquire

As much as thou hast lost.

Since the Supreme Inhabitant of Heav'n Receives the humble, and dethrones the proud. God the Father.

Adam arise, since I to thee impart,

A spirit warm from my benignant breath;

Arise, arise, first man,

And joyous let the world

Embrace its living miniature in thee,

Adam. O marvels new, O hallow'd, O divine;

Eternal object of the angel host:

Why do I not possess tongues numerous

As now the stars in heav'n?

Now then, before

A thing of earth so mean,

See I the great artificer divine?

Mighty Ruler supernal,

If 'tis denied this tongue

To match my obligation with my thanks,

Behold my hearts affection,

And hear it speaking clearer than my tongue,