Page:Paradise lost by Milton, John.djvu/102

96 Nought seeking but the praise of men here find Fit retribution, empty as their deeds. All the unaccomplished works of Nature's hand, Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixed, Dissolved on Earth, fleet hither, and in vain, Till final dissolution, wander here; Not in the neighboring moon, as some have dreamed; Those argent fields more likely habitants, Translated Saints or middle Spirits hold Betwixt the angelical and human kind. Hither, of ill-joined sons and daughters born, First from the ancient world those Giants came, With many a vain exploit, though then renowned; The builders next of Babel, on the plain Of Sennaar, and still with vain design New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build: Others came single; he, to be deemed A god, leaped fondly into Ætna flames Empedocles; and he who, to enjoy Plato's Elysium, leaped into the sea, Cleombrotus; and many more too long, Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars, White, black, and grey, with all their trumpery. Here pilgrims roam, that strayed so far to seek In Golgotha him dead who lives in Heaven; And they who, to be sure of Paradise,