Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained

by John Milton

SATAN from hence now on the lower stair That scal’d by steps of Gold to Heav’n Gate Looks down with wonder at the sudden view Of all this World at once. As when a Scout Through dark and desart wayes with peril gone All night; at last by break of chearful dawne Obtains the brow of some high-climbing Hill,

Breathe forth ELIXIR pure, and Rivers run Potable Gold,

But first he casts to change his proper shape, Which else might work him danger or delay: And now a stripling Cherube he appeers, Not of the prime, yet such as in his face Youth smil’d Celestial, and to every Limb

The Universal Maker we may praise; Who justly hath drivn out his Rebell Foes To deepest Hell, and to repair that loss Created this new happie Race of Men To serve him better: wise are all his wayes.

Hypocrisie, the only evil that walks Invisible, except to God alone,

To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps Contented with report heare onely in heav’n:

The cumbrous Elements, Earth, Flood, Aire, Fire, And this Ethereal quintessence of Heav’n Flew upward, spirited with various forms, That rowld orbicular, and turnd to Starrs Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move; Each had his place appointed, each his course, The rest in circuit walles this Universe.

he turnd, and SATAN bowing low, As to superior Spirits is wont in Heaven, Where honour due and reverence none neglects, Took leave, and toward the coast of Earth beneath, Down from th’ Ecliptic, sped with hop’d success,

And like a devillish Engine back recoiles Upon himself; horror and doubt distract His troubl’d thoughts, and from the bottom stirr

how glorious once above thy Spheare; Till Pride and worse Ambition threw me down Warring in Heav’n against Heav’ns matchless King:

What could be less then to afford him praise, The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks, How due! yet all his good prov’d ill in me, And wrought but malice;

Hadst thou the same free Will and Power to stand? Thou hadst: whom hast thou then or what to accuse, But Heav’ns free Love dealt equally to all?

Be then his Love accurst, since love or hate, To me alike, it deals eternal woe.

How dearly I abide that boast so vaine, Under what torments inwardly I groane; While they adore me on the Throne of Hell, With Diadem and Scepter high advanc’d The lower still I fall, onely Supream In miserie;

For never can true reconcilement grow Where wounds of deadly hate have peirc’d so deep: Which would but lead me to a worse relapse And heavier fall:

So farwel Hope, and with Hope farwel Fear, Farwel Remorse: all Good to me is lost; Evil be thou my Good;

Thus while he spake, each passion dimm’d his face Thrice chang’d with pale, ire, envie and despair, Which marrd his borrow’d visage, and betraid Him counterfet, if any eye beheld.

Artificer of fraud; and was the first That practisd falshood under saintly shew,

over head up grew Insuperable highth of loftiest shade, Cedar, and Pine, and Firr, and branching Palm, A Silvan Scene, and as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woodie Theatre Of stateliest view.

as a Thief bent to unhoord the cash Of some rich Burgher, whose substantial dores, Cross-barrd and bolted fast, fear no assault, In at the window climbes, or o’re the tiles; So clomb this first grand Thief into Gods Fould:

what well us’d had bin the pledge Of immortalitie. So little knows Any, but God alone, to value right The good before him, but perverts best things To worst abuse, or to thir meanest use.

Knowledge of Good bought dear by knowing ill.

Shee as a vail down to the slender waste Her unadorned golden tresses wore Dissheveld, but in wanton ringlets wav’d As the Vine curles her tendrils, which impli’d Subjection, but requir’d with gentle sway,

Sin-bred, how have ye troubl’d all mankind With shews instead, meer shews of seeming pure, And banisht from mans life his happiest life,

On the soft downie Bank damaskt with flours:

To make them mirth us’d all his might, & wreathd His Lithe Proboscis;

the Serpent sly Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine His breaded train, and of his fatal guile Gave proof unheeded; others on the grass Coucht, and now fild with pasture gazing sat, Or Bedward ruminating: for the Sun Declin’d was hasting now with prone carreer

Ah gentle pair, yee little think how nigh Your change approaches, when all these delights Will vanish and deliver ye to woe, More woe, the more your taste is now of joy; Happie, but for so happie ill secur’d

League with you I seek, And mutual amitie so streight, so close, That I with you must dwell, or you with me Henceforth; my dwelling haply may not please Like this fair Paradise, your sense, yet such Accept your Makers work; he gave it me, Which I as freely give; Hell shall unfould,

By conquering this new World, compels me now To do what else though damnd I should abhorre.

hee who requires From us no other service then to keep This one, this easie charge, of all the Trees In Paradise that beare delicious fruit So various, not to taste that onely Tree Of knowledge, planted by the Tree of Life, So neer grows Death to Life, what ere Death is, Som dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou knowst God hath pronounc’t it death to taste that Tree,

following our delightful task To prune these growing Plants, & tend these Flours, Which were it toilsom, yet with thee were sweet.

to give thee being I lent Out of my side to thee, neerest my heart Substantial Life, to have thee by my side Henceforth an individual solace dear; Part of my Soul I seek thee, and thee claim My other half:

while I to Hell am thrust, Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, Among our other torments not the least, Still unfulfill’d with pain of longing pines; Yet let me not forget what I have gain’d From thir own mouths; all is not theirs it seems: One fatal Tree there stands of Knowledge call’d, Forbidden them to taste: Knowledge forbidd’n?

O fair foundation laid whereon to build Thir ruine! Hence I will excite thir minds With more desire to know, and to reject Envious commands,

Live while ye may, Yet happie pair; enjoy, till I return, Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed.

gliding through the Eeven On a Sun beam, swift as a shooting Starr In AUTUMN thwarts the night, when vapors fir’d Impress the Air,

No Creature thence: if Spirit of other sort, So minded, have oreleapt these earthie bounds On purpose, hard thou knowst it to exclude Spiritual substance with corporeal barr.

Tomorrow ere fresh Morning streak the East With first approach of light, we must be ris’n, And at our pleasant labour, to reform Yon flourie Arbors, yonder Allies green, Our walks at noon, with branches overgrown, That mock our scant manuring, and require More hands then ours to lop thir wanton growth:

God is thy Law, thou mine: to know no more Is womans happiest knowledge and her praise. With thee conversing I forget all time, All seasons and thir change, all please alike.

Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass’d On to thir blissful Bower; it was a place Chos’n by the sovran Planter, when he fram’d All things to mans delightful use;

In shadier Bower More sacred and sequesterd, though but feignd, PAN or SILVANUS never slept, nor Nymph, Nor FAUNUS haunted.

and under op’n Skie ador’d The God that made both Skie, Air, Earth & Heav’n Which they beheld, the Moons resplendent Globe And starrie Pole: Thou also mad’st the Night, Maker Omnipotent, and thou the Day, Which we in our appointed work imployd Have finisht happie in our mutual help And mutual love,

Sleep on, Blest pair; and O yet happiest if ye seek No happier state, and know to know no more.

Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escap’d The barrs of Hell, on errand bad no doubt:

In search of whom they sought: him there they found Squat like a Toad, close at the eare of EVE; Assaying by his Devilish art to reach The Organs of her Fancie, and with them forge Illusions as he list, Phantasms and Dreams,

returns Of force to its own likeness: up he starts Discoverd and surpriz’d. As when a spark Lights on a heap of nitrous Powder, laid Fit for the Tun som Magazin to store Against a rumord Warr,

Not to know mee argues your selves unknown,

Think not, revolted Spirit, thy shape the same, Or undiminisht brightness, to be known As when thou stoodst in Heav’n upright and pure; That Glorie then, when thou no more wast good, Departed from thee, and thou resembl’st now Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foule.

So spake the Cherube, and his grave rebuke Severe in youthful beautie, added grace Invincible: abasht the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Vertue in her shape how lovly, saw, and pin’d His loss;