Paradise Lost

This is old age; but then thou must outlive 
Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change 
To witherd weak & gray; thy Senses then 
Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forgoe, 
To what thou hast, and for the Aire of youth 
Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reigne 
A melancholly damp of cold and dry 
To waigh thy spirits down, and last consume 
The Balme of Life.  To whom our Ancestor. 
  Henceforth I flie not Death, nor would prolong 
Life much, bent rather how I may be quit 
Fairest and easiest of this combrous charge, 
Which I must keep till my appointed day 
Of rendring up.  MICHAEL to him repli'd. 
  Nor love thy Life, nor hate; but what thou livst 
Live well, how long or short permit to Heav'n: 
And now prepare thee for another sight. 
  He lookd and saw a spacious Plaine, whereon 
Were Tents of various hue; by some were herds 
Of Cattel grazing: others, whence the sound 
Of Instruments that made melodious chime 
Was heard, of Harp and Organ; and who moovd 
Thir stops and chords was seen: his volant touch 
Instinct through all proportions low and high 
Fled and pursu'd transverse the resonant fugue. 
In other part stood one who at the Forge 
Labouring, two massie clods of Iron and Brass 
Had melted (whether found where casual fire 
Had wasted woods on Mountain or in Vale, 
Down to the veins of Earth, thence gliding hot 
To som Caves mouth, or whether washt by stream 
From underground) the liquid Ore he dreind 
Into fit moulds prepar'd; from which he formd 
First his own Tooles; then, what might else be wrought 
Fulfil or grav'n in mettle.  After these, 
But on the hether side a different sort 
From the high neighbouring Hills, which was thir Seat, 
Down to the Plain descended: by thir guise 
Just men they seemd, and all thir study bent 
To worship God aright, and know his works 
Not hid, nor those things lost which might preserve 
Freedom and Peace to men: they on the Plain 
Long had not walkt, when from the Tents behold 
A Beavie of fair Women, richly gay 
In Gems and wanton dress; to the Harp they sung 
Soft amorous Ditties, and in dance came on: 
The Men though grave, ey'd them, and let thir eyes 
Rove without rein, till in the amorous Net 
Fast caught, they lik'd, and each his liking chose; 
And now of love they treat till th' Eevning Star 
Loves Harbinger appeerd; then all in heat 
They light the Nuptial Torch, and bid invoke 
Hymen, then first to marriage Rites invok't; 
With Feast and Musick all the Tents resound. 
Such happy interview and fair event 
Of love & youth not lost, Songs, Garlands, Flours, 
And charming Symphonies attach'd the heart 
Of ADAM, soon enclin'd to admit delight, 
The bent of Nature; which he thus express'd. 
  True opener of mine eyes, prime Angel blest, 
Much better seems this Vision, and more hope 
Of peaceful dayes portends, then those two past; 
Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse, 
Here Nature seems fulfilld in all her ends. 
  To whom thus MICHAEL.  Judg not what is best 
By pleasure, though to Nature seeming meet, 
Created, as thou art, to nobler end 
Holie and pure, conformitie divine. 
Those Tents thou sawst so pleasant, were the Tents 
Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his Race 
Who slew his Brother; studious they appere 
Of Arts that polish Life, Inventers rare, 
Unmindful of thir Maker, though his Spirit 
Taught them, but they his gifts acknowledg'd none. 
Yet they a beauteous ofspring shall beget; 
For that fair femal Troop thou sawst, that seemd 
Of Goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 
Yet empty of all good wherein consists 
Womans domestic honour and chief praise; 
Bred onely and completed to the taste 
Of lustful apperence, to sing, to dance, 
To dress, and troule the Tongue, and roule the Eye. 
To these that sober Race of Men, whose lives 
Religious titl'd them the Sons of God, 
Shall yeild up all thir vertue, all thir fame 
Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles 
Of these fair Atheists, and now swim in joy, 
(Erelong to swim at larg) and laugh; for which 
The world erelong a world of tears must weepe. 
  To whom thus ADAM of short joy bereft. 
O pittie and shame, that they who to live well 
Enterd so faire, should turn aside to tread 
Paths indirect, or in the mid way faint! 
But still I see the tenor of Mans woe 
Holds on the same, from Woman to begin. 
  From Mans effeminate slackness it begins, 
Said th' Angel, who should better hold his place 
By wisdome, and superiour gifts receavd. 
But now prepare thee for another Scene. 
  He lookd and saw wide Territorie spred