Page:The Complete Poetical Works of John Milton.djvu/238

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��PARADISE LOST

��For only in destroying I find ease To my relentless thoughts; and him de- stroyed, 130 Or won to what may work his utter loss, For whom all this was made, all this will

soon

Follow, as to him linked in weal or woe: In woe then, that destruction wide may

range !

To me shall be the glory sole among The Infernal Powers, in one clay to have

marred What he, Almighty styled, six nights and

days

Continued making, and who knows how long Before had been contriving ? though per- haps

Notlongerthan since I in one night freed 140 From servitude inglorious well nigh half The Angelic Name, and thinner left the

throng

Of his adorers. He, to be avenged, And to repair his numbers thus impaired Whether such virtue, spent of old, now

failed

More Angels to create (if they at least Are his created), or to spite us more Determined to advance into our room A creature formed of earth, and him endow, Exalted from so base original, 150

With heavenly spoils, our spoils. What he

decreed He effected; Man he made, and for him

built

Magnificent this World, and Earth his seat, Him Lord pronounced, and, O indignity ! Subjected to his service Angel-wings And flaming ministers, to watch and tend Their earthy charge. Of these the vigi- lance

I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist Of midnight vapour, glide obscure, and pry In every bush and brake, where hap may find 160

The Serpent sleeping, in whose mazy folds To hide me, and the dark intent I bring. O foul descent ! that I, who erst contended With Gods to sit the highest, am now con- strained

Into a beast, and, mixed with bestial slime, This essence to incarnate and imbrute, That to the highth of deity aspired ! But what will not ambition and revenge Descend to ? Who aspires must down as low

��As high he soared, obnoxious, first or last, ija To basest things. Revenge, at first though

sweet,

Bitter ere long back on itself recoils. Let it; I reck not, so it light well aimed, Since higher I fall short, on him who next Provokes my envy, this new favourite Of Heaven, this Man of Clay, son of de- spite, Whom, us the more to spite, his Maker

raised

From dust: spite then with spite is best re- paid." So saying, through each thicket, dank or

dry,

Like a black mist low-creeping, he held

on 180

His midnight search, where soonest he

might find The Serpent. Him fast sleeping soon he

found,

In labyrinth of many a round self-rowled, His head the midst, well stored with subtle

wiles:

Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den: Nor nocent yet, but on the grassy herb, Fearless, unfeared, he slept. In at his

mouth

The Devil entered, and his brutal sense, In heart or head, possessing soon inspired With act intelligential; but his sleep 190 Disturbed not, waiting close the approach

of morn.

Now, whenas sacred light began to dawn In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed Their morning incense, when all things that

breathe From the Earth's great altar send up silent

praise

To the Creator, and his nostrils fill With grateful smell, forth came the human

pair,

And joined their vocal worship to the quire Of creatures wanting voice ; that done, par- take

The season, prime for sweetest scents and

airs; 200

Then com'mune how that day they best may

pty

Their growing work for much their work

outgrew The hands' dispatch of two gardening so

wide:

And Eve first to her husband thus began : " Adam, well may we labour still to dress

�� �