Page:Paradise lost by Milton, John.djvu/354

348 Of happiness. Yet well, if here would end The misery; I deserved it, and would bear My own deservings. But this will not serve; All that I eat and drink, or shall beget, Is propagated curse. O voice once heard Delightfully, Encrease and multiply, Now death to hear! for what can I encrease Or multiply, but curses on my head? Who of all ages to succeed, but, feeling The evil on him brought by me, will curse My head? Ill fare our ancestor impure For this we may thank Adam! but his thanks Shall be the execration. So, besides Mine own that bide upon me, all from me Shall with a fierce reflux on me redound; On me, as on their natural centre, light, Heavy though in their place. O fleeting joys Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woe! Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me Man? did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me, or here place In this delicious garden? As my will Concurred not to my being, it were but right And equal to reduce me to my dust, Desirous to resign and render back All I received, unable to perform Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold The good I sought not. To the loss of that,