Paradise Lost

PARADISE LOST 
BOOK I. 
 
  Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit 
Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast 
Brought Death into the World, and all our woe, 
With loss of EDEN, till one greater Man 
Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat, 
Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top 
Of OREB, or of SINAI, didst inspire 
That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed, 
In the Beginning how the Heav'ns and Earth 
Rose out of CHAOS: Or if SION Hill 
Delight thee more, and SILOA'S Brook that flow'd 
Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence 
Invoke thy aid to my adventrous Song, 
That with no middle flight intends to soar 
Above th' AONIAN Mount, while it pursues 
Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime. 
And chiefly Thou O Spirit, that dost prefer 
Before all Temples th' upright heart and pure, 
Instruct me, for Thou know'st; Thou from the first 
Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread 
Dove-like satst brooding on the vast Abyss 
And mad'st it pregnant: What in me is dark 
Illumine, what is low raise and support; 
That to the highth of this great Argument 
I may assert th' Eternal Providence, 
And justifie the wayes of God to men. 
  Say first, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy view 
Nor the deep Tract of Hell, say first what cause 
Mov'd our Grand Parents in that happy State, 
Favour'd of Heav'n so highly, to fall off 
From their Creator, and transgress his Will 
For one restraint, Lords of the World besides? 
Who first seduc'd them to that fowl revolt? 
Th' infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile 
Stird up with Envy and Revenge, deceiv'd 
The Mother of Mankinde, what time his Pride 
Had cast him out from Heav'n, with all his Host 
Of Rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring 
To set himself in Glory above his Peers, 
He trusted to have equal'd the most High, 
If he oppos'd; and with ambitious aim 
Against the Throne and Monarchy of God 
Rais'd impious War in Heav'n and Battel proud 
With vain attempt.  Him the Almighty Power 
Hurld headlong flaming from th' Ethereal Skie 
With hideous ruine and combustion down 
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell 
In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire, 
Who durst defie th' Omnipotent to Arms. 
Nine times the Space that measures Day and Night 
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew 
Lay vanquisht, rowling in the fiery Gulfe 
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 
Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate: 
At once as far as Angels kenn he views 
The dismal Situation waste and wilde, 
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 Prison ordain'd 
In utter darkness, and their portion set 
As far remov'd from God and light of Heav'n 
As from the Center thrice to th' utmost Pole. 
O how unlike the place from whence they fell! 
There the companions of his fall, o'rewhelm'd 
With Floods and Whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, 
He soon discerns, and weltring by his side 
One next himself in power, and next in crime, 
Long after known in PALESTINE, and nam'd 
BEELZEBUB.  To whom th' Arch-Enemy, 
And thence in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words 
Breaking the horrid silence thus began. 
  If thou beest he; But O how fall'n! how chang'd 
From him, who in the happy Realms of Light 
Cloth'd with transcendent brightnes didst outshine 
Myriads though bright: If he whom mutual league, 
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope, 
And hazard in the Glorious Enterprize, 
Joynd with me once, now misery hath joynd 
In equal ruin: into what Pit thou seest 
From what highth fal'n, so much the stronger provd 
He with his Thunder: and till then who knew 
The force of those dire Arms? yet not for those 
Nor what the Potent Victor in his rage 
Can else inflict do I repent or change, 
Though chang'd in outward lustre; that fixt mind