Ambition. Yet why not? some other power
As great might have aspir'd, and me, though mean,
Drawn to his part; but other powers as great
Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within
Or from without, to all temptations arm'd.
Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand?
Thou hadst whom hast thou then or what to accuse,
But Heaven's free love dealt equally to all?
Be then his love accurs'd, since, love or hate,
To me alike, it deals eternal woe.
Nay, curs'd be thou; since against his thy will
Chose freely what it now so justly rues.
Me miserable! which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep,
Still threatening to devour me, opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.
O, then, at last relent: is there no place
Left for repentance, none for pardon left?
None left but by submission; and that word
Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame
Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduc'd
With other promises and other vaunts
Than to submit, boasting I could subdue
The Omnipotent. Ay me! they little know
How dearly I abide that boast so vain.
Under what torments inwardly I groan,
While they adore me on the throne of Hell.
With diadem and sceptre high advanc'd,
The lower still I fall, only supreme
In misery: such joy ambition finds.
But say I could repent, and could obtain,
By act of grace, my former state; how soon
Would height recal high thoughts, how soon unsay
What feign'd submission swore? Ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
For never can true reconcilement grow,
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep;
Which would but lead me to a worse relapse
And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear
Short intermission bought with double smart.
This knows my Punisher; therefore as far
From granting he, as I from begging peace:
All hope excluded thus, behold, instead
Of us outcast, exil'd, his new delight
Mankind created, and for him this world.
So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,
Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost;
Evil, be thou my good; by thee at least
Divided empire with Heaven's King I hold,
By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign;
As man ere long, and this new world, shall know.'
So on he2 fares, and to the border comes
Of Eden, where delicious Paradise
Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green,
As with a rural mound, the champain head
Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides
With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild,
Access denied; and over-head up grew
Insuperable height of loftiest shade,
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm,
A sylvan scene; and, as the ranks ascend
Shade above shade, a woody theatre
Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops
The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung:
Which to our general sire gave prospect large
Into his nether empire neighbouring round.
And higher than that wall a circling row
Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit,
Blossoms and fruits at once, of golden hue,
Appear'd with gay enamell'd colours mix'd:
On which the Sun more glad impress'd his beams
Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow,
When God hath showered the earth; so lovely seem'd
That landscape: and of pure, now purer air
Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires
Vernal delight and joy, able to drive
All sadness but despair: now gentle gales,
Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense
Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole3
Those balmy spoils. As when, to them who sail
Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past
Mozambic off at sea, north-east winds blow
Sabean odours from the spicy shore
Of Araby the blest; with such delay
Well pleas'd, they slack their course, and many a league
Cheer'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles.
EVE'S RECOLLECTIONS.
That day I oft remember, when from sleep
I first awak'd, and found myself repos'd
"The alternations of this dreadful speech strike and move the mind like the changes of
the tempest in a dark night."-Brydges.
2 Satan. Fares; Saxon, faran, to go.
3 Imagery from the Italian poets.-Newton.
Sabaea, an appellation of part of Arabia. Wakefield says that Milton delineated this beautiful description from Diodorus Siculus, Lib. iii. 466.-Todd.
Under a shade on flowers, much wondering where
And what I was, whence thither brought and how.
Not distant far from thence, a murmuring sound
Of waters issued from a cave, and spread
Into a liquid plain, then stood1 unmov'd
Pure as the expanse of Heaven; I thither went
With unexperienced thought, and laid me down
On the green bank, to look into the clear
Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky.
As I bent down to look, just opposite
A shape within the watery gleam appear'd,
Bending to look on me: I started back,
It started back; but pleas'd I soon return'd,
Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answering looks
Of sympathy and love.2
Now came still Evening on, and Twilight gray
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 pleas'd: now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led3
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.4
EVE'S CONJUGAL LOVE.
My author and disposer, what thou bid'st,
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,
Glistering with dew: fragrant the fertile Earth
1 Spread and stood form another instance of zeugma.-See note 3, p. 199: and compare the example in note 1, p. 203.
2 The hint of this incident is taken from the fable of Narcissus, Ovid, Met. iii. 457.Newton. "The want of probability, that Narcissus, who lived in society, should be so far deceived as to take an image in water for a reality, is here removed. We may apply to Milton, on this occasion, what Aristotle says of Homer, that he taught the poets to lie properly."-Stillingfleet. Compare Book v. 166.-See p. 212. 4"I know of nothing parallel or comparable to this passage to be found among all the treasures of ancient or modern poetry."-Newton.
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful Evening mild; then silent Night,
With this her solemn bird, and this fair Moon,
And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train:
But neither breath of Morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising Sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers;
Nor grateful Evening mild; nor silent Night,
With this her solemn bird; nor walk by Moon,
Or glittering star-light, without thee, is sweet.
SATAN'S REPLY TO GABRIEL.
Then, when I am thy captive, talk of chains,
Proud limitary cherub! but ere then
Far heavier load thyself expect to feel
From my prevailing arm, though Heaven's King
Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers,
Us'd to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels
In progress through the road of Heaven star-pav'd.
ADAM AND EVE'S MORNING HYMN,
These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,
Almighty! Thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair: Thyself how wondrous then!
Unspeakable, who sit'st above these heavens
To us invisible, or dimly seen
In these thy lowest works; yet these declare1
Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs
And choral symphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing: ye, in Heaven;
On Earth, join, all ye creatures, to extol
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere,
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Thou Sun, of this great world both eye2 and soul,
Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
Moon, that now meet'st the orient Sun, now fly'st,
1 Psalm xix. 1; 1 Corinthians xiii. 12.
2 A classical image.-See Aristoph. Nub. 285. Esch. Septem Contr. Theb. 386. Pope's maxim respecting the meanness of a monosyllabic heroic line will not apply to this nor to many others in Milton; see several in this passage.
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies ;1
And ye five other wandering fires, that move
In mystic dance not without song, resound
His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run3
Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix
And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dusky, or gray,
Till the Sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rise;
Whether to deck with clouds the uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty Earth with falling showers,
Rising or falling still advance his praise.
His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices, all ye living souls: ye birds,
That singing up to Heaven-gate* ascend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be silent, morn or even,
To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail, universal Lord, be bounteous still
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark!"5
Our first parents are made with propriety to speak the astronomy of the eye, not that of modern science.
2 The ancient and mediæval astronomy reckoned the sun and moon among the planets. The "five other wandering fires," therefore, are Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. Herschel had not yet lent the lyre of heaven another string." The mysterious virtue and prevalence of the number seven was used by the schoolmen as an argument against the Copernican astronomy." Not without song," the Pythagorean idea.→See note 2, p. 88.
The mingling and interchange of the four elements, air, earth, fire, and water, producing successive alterations in the condition and constitution of the universe, was a doctrine of ancient philosophy, borrowed from Orpheus. Cic. de Nat. Deor. ii. 33.-See Newton's Note. Multiform; compare with deform, Book i 706.-See p. 204.
"Hark! hark I the lark at heaven's gate sings !"-Shakesp. Cymbeline, Act ii. Sc. 3.— See p. 128.
5 Compare this hymn with Psalm cxlviii., and with that of Thomson on the Seasons. It is conceived in the spirit of the Hebrew poetry, and unites in a singular degree the attributes of sublimity and beauty. The fourth book, and the first part of the fifth, em brace the most merely beautiful parts of Paradise Lost. It has been said that Milton, when he descends to the beautiful, borrows; when he soars to the sublime, he creates. The mind that wanders over nature, science, philosophy, and literature, as that of Milton had done, imbibes beauty at every step, until the fulness of its riches cannot distinguish its own creations from its acquisitions. Hence the best poets borrow without a taint of plagiarism, without the shadow of want of originality. Sublimity in literature is a rarer quality, and cannot be imitated without instant recognition by the imitator himself, and much more by his readers.
|