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Paradise Lost

John Milton

Still luminous by his ray. What if that light Sent from her through the wide transpicuous aire, To the terrestrial Moon be as a Starr Enlightning her by Day, as she by Night This Earth? reciprocal, if Land be there, Feilds and Inhabitants: Her spots thou seest As Clouds, and Clouds may rain, and Rain produce Fruits in her soft’nd Soile, for some to eate Allotted there; and other Suns perhaps With thir attendant Moons thou wilt descrie Communicating Male and Femal Light, Which two great Sexes animate the World, Stor’d in each Orb perhaps with some that live. For such vast room in Nature unpossest By living Soule, desert and desolate, Onely to shine, yet scarce to contribute Each Orb a glimps of Light, conveyd so farr Down to this habitable, which returnes Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. But whether thus these things, or whether not, Whether the Sun predominant in Heav’n Rise on the Earth, or Earth rise on the Sun, Hee from the East his flaming rode begin, Or Shee from West her silent course advance With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps On her soft Axle, while she paces Eev’n, And bears thee soft with the smooth Air along, Sollicit not thy thoughts with matters hid, Leave them to God above, him serve and feare; Of other Creatures, as him pleases best, Wherever plac’t, let him dispose: joy thou In what he gives to thee, this Paradise And thy faire _Eve_; Heav’n is for thee too high To know what passes there; be lowlie wise: Think onely what concernes thee and thy being; Dream not of other Worlds, what Creatures there Live, in what state, condition or degree, Contented that thus farr hath been reveal’d Not of Earth onely but of highest Heav’n. To whom thus _Adam_ cleerd of doubt, repli’d. How fully hast thou satisfi’d mee, pure Intelligence of Heav’n, Angel serene, And freed from intricacies, taught to live, The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts To interrupt the sweet of Life, from which God hath bid dwell farr off all anxious cares, And not molest us, unless we our selves Seek them with wandring thoughts, and notions vaine. But apt the Mind or Fancie is to roave Uncheckt, and of her roaving is no end; Till warn’d, or by experience taught, she learne, That not to know at large of things remote From use, obscure and suttle, but to know That which before us lies in daily life, Is the prime Wisdom, what is more, is fume, Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, And renders us in things that most concerne Unpractis’d, unprepar’d, and still to seek. Therefore from this high pitch let us descend A lower flight, and speak of things at hand Useful, whence haply mention may arise Of somthing not unseasonable to ask By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign’d. Thee I have heard relating what was don Ere my remembrance: now hear mee relate My Storie, which perhaps thou hast not heard; And Day is yet not spent; till then thou seest How suttly to detaine thee I devise, Inviting thee to hear while I relate, Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply: For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heav’n, And sweeter thy discourse is to my eare Then Fruits of Palm-tree pleasantest to thirst And hunger both, from labour, at the houre Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill, Though pleasant, but thy words with Grace Divine Imbu’d, bring to thir sweetness no satietie. To whom thus _Raphael_ answer’d heav’nly meek. Nor are thy lips ungraceful, Sire of men, Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee Abundantly his gifts hath also pour’d, Inward and outward both, his image faire: Speaking or mute all comliness and grace Attends thee, and each word, each motion formes. Nor less think wee in Heav’n of thee on Earth Then of our fellow servant, and inquire Gladly into the wayes of God with Man: For God we see hath honour’d thee, and set On Man his equal Love: say therefore on; For I that Day was absent, as befell, Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, Farr on excursion toward the Gates of Hell; Squar’d in full Legion (such command we had) To see that none thence issu’d forth a spie, Or enemie, while God was in his work, Least hee incenst at such eruption bold, Destruction with Creation might have mixt. Not that they durst without his leave attempt, But us he sends upon his high behests For state, as Sovran King, and to enure Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut The dismal Gates, and barricado’d strong; But long ere our approaching heard within Noise, other then the sound of Dance or Song, Torment, and lowd lament, and furious rage. Glad we return’d up to the coasts of Light Ere Sabbath Eev’ning: so we had in charge. But thy relation now; for I attend, Pleas’d with thy words no less then thou with mine. So spake the Godlike Power, and thus our Sire. For Man to tell how human Life began Is hard; for who himself beginning knew? Desire with thee still longer to converse Induc’d me. As new wak’t from soundest sleep Soft on the flourie herb I found me laid In Balmie Sweat, which with his Beames the Sun Soon dri’d, and on the reaking moisture fed. Strait toward Heav’n my wondring Eyes I turnd, And gaz’d a while the ample Skie, till rais’d By quick instinctive motion up I sprung, As thitherward endevoring, and upright Stood on my feet; about me round I saw Hill, Dale, and shadie Woods, and sunnie Plaines, And liquid Lapse of murmuring Streams; by these, Creatures that livd, and movd, and walk’d, or flew, Birds on the branches warbling; all things smil’d, With fragrance and with joy my heart oreflow’d. My self I then perus’d, and Limb by Limb Survey’d, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran With supple joints, as lively vigour led: But who I was, or where, or from what cause, Knew not; to speak I tri’d, and forthwith spake, My Tongue obey’d and readily could name What e’re I saw. Thou Sun, said I, faire Light, And thou enlight’nd Earth, so fresh and gay, Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods, and Plaines, And ye that live and move, fair Creatures, tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here? Not of my self; by some great Maker then, In goodness and in power praeeminent; Tell me, how may I know him, how adore, From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier then I know. While thus I call’d, and stray’d I knew not whither, From where I first drew Aire, and first beheld This happie Light, when answer none return’d, On a green shadie Bank profuse of Flours Pensive I sate me down; there gentle sleep First found me, and with soft oppression seis’d My droused sense, untroubl’d, though I thought I then was passing to my former state Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve: When suddenly stood at my Head a dream, Whose inward apparition gently mov’d My Fancy to believe I yet had being, And livd: One came, methought, of shape Divine, And said, thy Mansion wants thee, _Adam_, rise, First Man, of Men innumerable ordain’d First Father, call’d by thee I come thy Guide To the Garden of bliss, thy seat prepar’d. So saying, by the hand he took me rais’d, And over Fields and Waters, as in Aire Smooth sliding without step, last led me up A woodie Mountain; whose high top was plaine, A Circuit wide, enclos’d, with goodliest Trees Planted, with Walks, and Bowers, that what I saw Of Earth before scarse pleasant seemd. Each Tree Load’n with fairest Fruit, that hung to the Eye Tempting, stirr’d in me sudden appetite To pluck and eate; whereat I wak’d, and found Before mine Eyes all real, as the dream Had lively shadowd: Here had new begun My wandring, had not hee who was my Guide Up hither, from among the Trees appeer’d, Presence Divine. Rejoycing, but with aw In adoration at his feet I fell Submiss: he rear’d me, & Whom thou soughtst I am, Said mildely, Author of all this thou seest Above, or round about thee or beneath. This Paradise I give thee, count it thine To Till and keep, and of the Fruit to eate: Of every Tree that in the Garden growes Eate freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth: But of the Tree whose operation brings Knowledg of good and ill, which I have set The Pledge of thy Obedience and thy Faith, Amid the Garden by the Tree of Life, Remember what I warne thee, shun to taste, And shun the bitter consequence: for know, The day thou eat’st thereof, my sole command Transgrest, inevitably thou shalt dye; From that day mortal, and this happie State Shalt loose, expell’d from hence into a World Of woe and sorrow. Sternly he pronounc’d The rigid interdiction, which resounds Yet dreadful in mine eare, though in my choice Not to incur; but soon his cleer aspect Return’d and gratious purpose thus renew’d. Not onely these fair bounds, but all the Earth To thee and to thy Race I give; as Lords Possess it, and all things that therein live, Or live in Sea, or Aire, Beast, Fish, and Fowle. In signe whereof each Bird and Beast behold After thir kindes; I bring them to receave From thee thir Names, and pay thee fealtie With low subjection; understand the same Of Fish within thir watry residence, Not hither summond, since they cannot change Thir Element to draw the thinner Aire. As thus he spake, each Bird and Beast behold Approaching two and two, These cowring low With blandishment, each Bird stoop’d on his wing. I nam’d them, as they pass’d, and understood Thir Nature, with such knowledg God endu’d My sudden apprehension: but in these I found not what me thought I wanted still; And to the Heav’nly vision thus presum’d. O by what Name, for thou above all these, Above mankinde, or aught then mankinde higher, Surpassest farr my naming, how may I Adore thee, Author of this Universe, And all this good to man, for whose well being So amply, and with hands so liberal Thou hast provided all things: but with mee I see not who partakes. In solitude What happiness, who can enjoy alone, Or all enjoying, what contentment find? Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright, As with a smile more bright’nd, thus repli’d. What call’st thou solitude, is not the Earth With various living creatures, and the Aire Replenisht, and all these at thy command To come and play before thee, know’st thou not Thir language and thir wayes, they also know, And reason not contemptibly; with these Find pastime, and beare rule; thy Realm is large. So spake the Universal Lord, and seem’d So ordering. I with leave of speech implor’d, And humble deprecation thus repli’d. Let not my words offend thee, Heav’nly Power, My Maker, be propitious while I speak. Hast thou not made me here thy substitute, And these inferiour farr beneath me set? Among unequals what societie Can sort, what harmonie or true delight? Which must be mutual, in proportion due Giv’n and receiv’d; but in disparitie The one intense, the other still remiss Cannot well suite with either, but soon prove Tedious alike: Of fellowship I speak Such as I seek, fit to participate All rational delight, wherein the brute Cannot be human consort; they rejoyce Each with thir kinde, Lion with Lioness; So fitly them in pairs thou hast combin’d; Much less can Bird with Beast, or Fish with Fowle So well converse, nor with the Ox the Ape; Wors then can Man with Beast, and least of all. Whereto th’ Almighty answer’d, not displeas’d. A nice and suttle happiness I see Thou to thy self proposest, in the choice Of thy Associates, _Adam_, and wilt taste No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitarie. What thinkst thou then of mee, and this my State, Seem I to thee sufficiently possest Of happiness, or not? who am alone From all Eternitie, for none I know Second to mee or like, equal much less. How have I then with whom to hold converse Save with the Creatures which I made, and those To me inferiour, infinite descents Beneath what other Creatures are to thee?