Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o'erspread
Heaven's cheerful face, the lowering element
Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape snow, or shower;
If chance the radiant sun with farewell sweet
Extend his evening beam, the fields revive,
The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds
Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings.

Satan to Beelzebub.

"If thou beest he-but Oh, how fallen! how changed
From him, who, in the happy realms of light,
Clothed with transcendent brightness did outshine
Myriads though bright!-if he, whom mutual league,
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope
And hazard-in the glorious enterprise
Join'd with me once-now misery hath join'd
In equal ruin-into what pit thou seest

From what height fallen, so much the stronger proved
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 changed in outward lustre, that fix'd mind,
And high disdain from sense of injured merit,
That with the Mightiest raised me to contend;
And to the fierce contention brought along
Innumerable force of spirits arm'd,

That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring,
His utmost power with adverse power opposed
In dubious battle on the plains of heaven,

And shook his throne ! What though the field be lost?
All is not lost the unconquerable will,
And study of revenge; immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield;
And what is else not to be overcome?-
That glory never shall his wrath or might
Extort from me! To bow and sue for grace
With suppliant knee, and deify his power,
Who from the terror of this arm so late
Doubted his empire! that were low indeed!
That were an ignominy, and shame beneath

This downfall! since, by fate, the strength of gods
And this empyreal substance cannot fail;
Since, through experience of this great event,
In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced,
We may with more successful hope resolve
To wage by force or guile eternal war,
Irreconcilable to our grand foe,

Who now triumphs, and, in the excess of joy,
Sole reigning, holds the tyranny of heaven!"

Satan's Reproof of Beelzebub.

"Fallen cherub! to be weak is miserable,
Doing or suffering; but of this be sure,
To do aught good never will be our task,
But ever to do ill our sole delight,
As being the contrary to his high will
Whom we resist. If then his providence
Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,
Our labour must be to pervert that end,
And out of good still to find means of evil;
Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps
Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb
His inmost counsels from their destined aim.
But see, the angry Victor hath recall'd
His ministers of vengeance and pursuit
Back to the gates of heaven: the sulphurous hail,
Shot after us in storm, o'erblown, hath laid
The fiery surge, that from the precipice

Of heaven received us falling; and the thunder,
Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage,
Perhaps hath spent his shafts and ceases now
To bellow through the vast and boundless deep.
Let us not slip the occasion, whether scorn,
Or satiate fury, yield it from our foe.
Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild,
The seat of desolation, void of light,

Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
From off the tossing of these fiery waves;
There rest, if any rest can harbour there;
And, re-assembling our afflicted powers,

Consult how we may henceforth most offend
Our enemy; our own loss how repair ;
How overcome this dire calamity;
What reinforcement we may gain from hope;
If not, what resolution from despair !"

Satan Surveying the Horrors of Hell.

"Is this the region, this the soil, the clime?" Said then the lost archangel, “this the seat That we must change for heaven; this mournful gloom For that celestial light? Be it so ! since he, Who now is Sovereign, can dispose and bid What shall be right; farthest from him is best, Whom reason hath equall'd, force hath made supreme, Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields, Where joy for ever dwells! Hail, horrors! hail, Infernal world! and thou, profoundest hell! Receive thy new possessor-one, who brings A mind not to be changed by place or time. The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. What matter where, if I be still the same, And what I should be-all but less than he Whom thunder had made greater? Here at least We shall be free; the Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: Here we may reign secure; and, in my choice, To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven! But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, The associates and co-partners of our loss, Lie thus astonish'd on the oblivious pool, And call them not to share with us their part In this unhappy mansion; or once more With rallied arms to try what may be yet Regain'd in heaven, or what more lost in hell?'

Satan Arousing his Legions.

'Princes! Potentates!

Warriors ! the flower of heaven! once yours, now lost

If such astonishment as this can seize

Eternal spirits-Or have ye chosen this place
After the toil of battle to repose

Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find
To slumber here, as in the vales of heaven ?
Or in this abject posture have ye sworn
To adore the Conqueror, who now beholds
Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood,
With scatter'd arms and ensigns, till anon
His swift pursuers from heaven-gates discern
The advantage, and, descending, tread us down
Thus drooping; or with linked thunderbolts
Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf!
Awake! arise! or be for ever fallen !"

Description of the Fallen Angels Wandering through Hell.

Thus roving on

In confused march forlorn, the adventurous bands
With shuddering horror pale, and eyes aghast,
View'd first their lamentable lot, and found
No rest. Through many a dark and dreary vale
They pass'd, and many a region dolorous;

O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp,

Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death!

A universe of death! which God by curse

Created evil for evil only good;

Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds,

Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things;
Abominable, unutterable, and worse

Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceived,
Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimæras dire!

Evening in Paradise.

Now came still evening on, and twilight grey
Had in her sober livery all things clad;
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird-
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests
Were slunk-all but the wakeful nightingale ;

She all night long her amorous descant sung;
Silence was pleased: now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length

Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.

When Adam thus to Eve: "Fair consort! the hour
Of night, and all things now retired to rest,
Mind us of like repose; since God hath set
Labour and rest, as day and night, to men
Successive; and the timely dew of sleep,
Now falling with soft slumberous weight, inclines
Our eye-lids: other creatures all day long
Rove idle, unemploy'd, and less need rest;
Man hath his daily work of body or mind
Appointed, which declares his dignity,
And the regard of heaven on all his ways;
While other animals inactive range,

And of their doings God takes no account.
To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east
With first approach of light, we must be risen,
And at our pleasant labour, to reform
Yon flowery arbours, yonder alleys green,
Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown,
That mock our scant manuring, and require
More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth:
Those blossoms also, and those drooping gums,
That lie bestrewn, unsightly and unsmooth,

Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease;
Meanwhile, as nature wills, night bids us rest.”

To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd: "My author and disposer, what thou bidst Unargued I obey: so God ordains.

God is thy law: thou mine: to know no more
Is woman's happiest knowledge, and her praise!
With thee conversing, I forget all time;
All seasons, and their change-all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn-her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,