By ancient Tarfus held, or that fea-beaft Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hugest that swim th' ocean stream: Him haply flumb'ring on the Norway foam The pilot of fome fmall night-founder'd skiff Deeming fome ifland, oft, as feamen tell, With fixed anchor in his fcaly rind
Moors by his fide under the lee, while night Invests the fea, and wished morn delays:
So ftretch'd out huge in length the ar'ch-fiend lay Chain'd on the burning lake: nor ever thence Had ris'n, or heav'd his head, but that the will And high permiffion of all-ruling Heav'n Left him at large to his own dark defigns; That with reiterated crimes he might Heap on himself damnation, while he fought Evil to others; and enrag'd might fee How all his malice ferv'd but to bring forth Infinite goodness, grace and mercy fhown On man by him feduc'd, but on himself Treble confufion, wrath and vengeance pour'd. 220 Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool His mighty ftature; on each hand the flames Driv'n'backward, flope their pointing fpires, and roll'd In billows, leave i' th' midst a horrid vale.
Then with expanded wings he fteers his flight 225 Aloft, incumbent on the dufky air,
That felt unusual weight, till on dry land He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd With folid, as the lake with liquid fire; And fuch appear'd in hue, as when the force Of fubterranean wind transports a hill Torn from Pelorus, or the fhatter'd fide Of thund'ring Etna, whofe combustiblę And fuel'd intrails thence conceiving fire,
Sublim'd with mineral fury, aid the winds,
And leave a finged bottom all involv'd
With stench and smoke: fuch refting found the sole Of unbleft feet. Him follow'd his next mate, Both glorying to have 'fcap'd the Stygian flood As gods, and by their own recover'd strength, Not by the fuff'rance of fupernal pow'r.
Is this the region, this the foil, the clime, Said then the loft archangel, this the feat
That we must change for heav'n, this mournful gloom For that celestial light? B' it so, since he
Who now as Sov'reign can dispose and bid
What shall be right: fartheft from him is best, Whom reas'n hath equall'd, force hath made fupreme Above his equals. Farewel, happy fields,
Where joy for ever dwells! Hail horrors, hail 250 Infernal world! and thou profoundest hell. Receive thy new poffeffor; one who brings A mind not to be chang'd by place or time. The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n. What matter where if I be still the fame, And what I fhould be, all but lefs than he Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence Here we may reign fecure, and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell, than serve in Heav'n. But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, Th' affociates and copartners of our lofs, Lie thus aftonish'd on th' oblivious pool, And call them not to fhare with us their part In this unhappy manfion, or once more With rallied arms to try what may be yet:
Regain'd in heav'n, or what more loft in hell? 270 So Satan fpake, and him Beelzebub Thus answer'd. Leader of thofe armies bright, Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foil'd, If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge Of battle when it rag'd, in all affaults Their fureft fignal, they will foon resume New courage and revive, though now they lie Grov❜ling and proftrate on yon lake of fire, As we erewhile, aftounded and amaz'd,
No wonder, fall'n fuch a pernicious height. He scarce had ceas'd when the fuperior fiend
Was moving tow'ard the fhore; his pond'rous fhield, Ethereal temper, maffy, large and round, Behind him caft; the broad circumference
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glafs the Tufcan artist views At evening from the top of Fefolé, Or in Valdarno, to defcry new lands, Rivers or mountains in her fpotty globe. His fpear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the maft Of fome great admiral, were but a wand, He walk'd with to fupport uneasy steps Over the burning marle, (not like those steps On heaven's azure,) and the torrid clime Smote on him fore befides, vaulted with fire: Nathlefs he fo endur'd, till on the beach Of that inflamed fea he stood, and call'd His legions, angel- forms, who lay intrane'd Thick as autumnal leaves that ftrow the brooks In Vallombrofa, where th' Etrurian fhades High over-arch'd imbow'r; or scatter'd fedge
Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd Hath vex'd the Red-Sea coaft, who Bufiris and his Memphian chivalry, While with perfidious hatred they purfi'd The fojourners of Goshen, who beheld From the fafe fhore their floating carcafes.
And broken chariot wheels: So thick beftrown Abject and loft lay thefe, cov'ring the flood, Under amazement of their hideous change. He call'd fo loud, that all the hollow deep Of hell refounded. Princes, potentates,
Warriors, the flow'r of heav'n, once yours, now lost,
If fuch aftonishment as this can feize
Eternal spirits; or have ye chos'n this place
After the teil of battle to repofe
Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find To flumber here, as in the vales of heav'n? Or in this abject pofture have ye fworn To' adore the conqueror? who now beholds Cherub and feraph rolling in the flood With fcatter'd arms and enfigns, till anon. His fwift pursuers from heav'n-gates difcern Th' advantage, and defcending tread us down Thus drooping, or with linked thunder-bolts Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf. Awake, arife, or be for ever fall'n.
They heard, and were abafh'd, and up they fprung. Upon the wing; as when men wont to watch On duty, fleeping found by whom they dread, Rouse and beftir themselves ere well awake.
Nor did they not perceive the evil plight In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel; Yet to their gen'ral's voice they foon obey'd Innumerable. As when the potent rod
Of Amram's fon, in Egypt's evil day,
Wav'd round the coaft, up call'd a pitchy cloud 340 Of locuits, warpi on the eastern wind, That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung Like night, and darken'd all the land of Nile: So numberless were those bad angels feen Hovering on wing under the cope of hell, 'Twixt upper, nether, and furrounding fires; Till, as a fignal giv'n, th' uplifted spear Of their great Sultan waving to direct Their course, in even balance down they light On the firm brimftone, and fill all the plain ;. A multitude, like which the populous north Pour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous fons Came like a deluge on the fouth, and fpread Beneath Gibraltar to the Libian fands. Forthwith from every fquadron and each band The heads and leaders thither hafte where flood Their great commander; god-like fhapes and forms Excelling human, princely dignities,
And pow'rs that erft in heaven fat on thrones; 360 Tho' of their names in heav'nly records now
Be no memorial, blotted out and raz'd By their rebellion from the books of life.
Nor had they yet among the fons of Eve
Got them new names; till wand'ring o'er the earth, Through God's high sufferance for the trial of man, By falfities and lies the greatest part
Of mankind they corrupted to forfake God their Creator, and th' invifible
Glory of him that made them to transform Oft to the image of a brute, adorn'd
With gay religions full of pomp and gold,
And devils to adore for deities:
Then were they known to men by various names,
« ForrigeFortsæt » |