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Paradise Lost is an epic poem in blank verse by the 17th-century English poet John Milton. The first version, published in 1667, consisted of ten books with over ten thousand lines of verse. A second edition followed in 1674, arranged into twelve books with minor revisions throughout and a note on the versification.

Genre: Poetry
Year:
1667
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He scarce had ceas’t when the superiour Fiend Was moving toward the shore; his ponderous shield Ethereal temper, massy, large and round, Behind him cast; the broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose Orb Through Optic Glass the Tuscan Artist views At Ev’ning from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new Lands, Rivers or Mountains in her spotty Globe. His Spear, to equal which the tallest Pine Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the Mast Of some great Ammiral, were but a wand, He walkt with to support uneasie steps Over the burning Marle, not like those steps On Heavens Azure, and the torrid Clime Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with Fire; Nathless he so endur’d, till on the Beach Of that inflamed Sea, he stood and call’d His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans’t Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks In Vallombrosa, where th’ Etrurian shades High overarch’t imbowr; or scatterd sedge Afloat, when with fierce Winds Orion arm’d Hath vext the Red-Sea Coast, whose waves orethrew Busiris and his Memphian Chivalrie, VVhile with perfidious hatred they pursu’d The Sojourners of Goshen, who beheld From the safe shore their floating Carkases And broken Chariot Wheels, so thick bestrown Abject and lost lay these, covering the Flood, Under amazement of their hideous change. He call’d so loud, that all the hollow Deep Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates, Warriers, the Flowr of Heav’n, once yours, now lost, If such astonishment as this can sieze Eternal spirits; or have ye chos’n this place After the toyl of Battel to repose Your wearied vertue, for the ease you find To slumber here, as in the Vales of Heav’n? Or in this abject posture have ye sworn To adore the Conquerour? who now beholds Cherube and Seraph rowling in the Flood With scatter’d Arms and Ensigns, till anon His swift pursuers from Heav’n Gates discern Th’ advantage, and descending tread us down Thus drooping, or with linked Thunderbolts Transfix us to the bottom of this Gulfe. Awake, arise, or be for ever fall’n. They heard, and were abasht, and up they sprung Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread, Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. Nor did they not perceave the evil plight In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel; Yet to their Generals Voyce they soon obeyd Innumerable. As when the potent Rod Of Amrams Son in Egypts evill day Wav’d round the Coast, up call’d a pitchy cloud Of Locusts, warping on the Eastern Wind, That ore the Realm of impious Pharoah hung Like Night, and darken’d all the Land of Nile: So numberless were those bad Angels seen Hovering on wing under the Cope of Hell ’Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding Fires; Till, as a signal giv’n, th’ uplifted Spear Of their great Sultan waving to direct Thir course, in even ballance down they light On the firm brimstone, and fill all the Plain; A multitude, like which the populous North Pour’d never from her frozen loyns, to pass Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous Sons Came like a Deluge on the South, and spread Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands. Forthwith from every Squadron and each Band The Heads and Leaders thither hast where stood Their great Commander; Godlike shapes and forms Excelling human, Princely Dignities, And Powers that earst in Heaven sat on Thrones; Though of their Names in heav’nly Records now Be no memorial, blotted out and ras’d By thir Rebellion, from the Books of Life. Nor had they yet among the Sons of Eve Got them new Names, till wandring ore the Earth, Through Gods high sufferance for the tryal of man, By falsities and lyes the greatest part Of Mankind they corrupted to forsake God their Creator, and th’ invisible Glory of him, that made them, to transform Oft to the Image of a Brute, adorn’d With gay Religions full of Pomp and Gold, And Devils to adore for Deities: Then were they known to men by various Names, And various Idols through the Heathen World. Say, Muse, their Names then known, who first, who last, Rous’d from the slumber, on that fiery Couch, At thir great Emperors call, as next in worth Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, While the promiscuous croud stood yet aloof? The chief were those who from the Pit of Hell Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix Their Seats long after next the Seat of God, Their Altars by his Altar, Gods ador’d Among the Nations round, and durst abide Jehovah thundring out of Sion, thron’d Between the Cherubim; yea, often plac’d Within his Sanctuary it self their Shrines, Abominations; and with cursed things His holy Rites, and solemn Feasts profan’d, And with their darkness durst affront his light. First Moloch, horrid King besmear’d with blood Of human sacrifice, and parents tears, Though for the noyse of Drums and Timbrels loud Their childrens cries unheard, that past through fire To his grim Idol. Him the Ammonite Worshipt in Rabba and her watry Plain, In Argob and in Basan, to the stream Of utmost Arnon. Nor content with such Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart Of Solomon he led by fraud to build His Temple right against the Temple of God On that opprobrious Hill, and made his Grove The pleasant Vally of Hinnom, Tophet thence And black Gehenna call’d, the Type of Hell. Next Chemos, th’ obscene dread of Moabs Sons, From Aroer to Nebo, and the wild Of Southmost Abarim; in Hesebon And Heronaim, Seons Realm, beyond The flowry Dale of Sibma clad with Vines, And Eleale to th’ Asphaltick Pool. Peor his other Name, when he entic’d Israel in Sittim on their march from Nile To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe. Yet thence his lustful Orgies he enlarg’d Even to that Hill of scandal, by the Grove Of Moloch homicide, lust hard by hate; Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell. With these came they, who from the bordring flood Of old Euphrates to the Brook that parts Egypt from Syrian ground, had general Names Of Baalim and Ashtaroth, those male, These Feminine. For Spirits when they please Can either Sex assume, or both; so soft And uncompounded is their Essence pure, Not ti’d or manacl’d with joynt or limb, Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, Like cumbrous flesh; but in what shape they choose Dilated or condens’t, bright or obscure, Can execute their aerie purposes, And works of love or enmity fulfill. For those the Race of Israel oft forsook Their living strength, and unfrequented left His righteous Altar, bowing lowly down To bestial Gods; for which their heads as low Bow’d down in Battel, sunk before the Spear Of despicable foes. With these in troop Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians call’d Astarte, Queen of Heav’n, with crescent Horns; To whose bright Image nightly by the Moon Sidonian Virgins paid their Vows and Songs, In Sion also not unsung, where stood Her Temple on th’ offensive Mountain, built By that uxorious King, whose heart though large, Beguil’d by fair Idolatresses, fell To Idols foul. Thammuz came next behind, Whose annual wound in Lebanon allur’d The Syrian Damsels to lament his fate In amorous dittyes all a Summers day, While smooth Adonis from his native Rock Ran purple to the Sea, suppos’d with blood Of Thammuz yearly wounded: the Love-tale Infected Sions daughters with like heat, Whose wanton passions in the sacred Porch Ezekiel saw, when by the Vision led His eye survay’d the dark Idolatries Of alienated Judah. Next came one Who mourn’d in earnest, when the Captive Ark Maim’d his brute Image, head and hands lopt off In his own Temple, on the grunsel edge, Where he fell flat, and sham’d his Worshipers: Dagon his Name, Sea Monster, upward Man And downward Fish: yet had his Temple high Rear’d in Azotus, dreaded through the Coast Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon, And Accaron and Gaza’s frontier bounds. Him follow’d Rimmon, whose delightful Seat Was fair Damscus, on the fertil Banks Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. He also against the house of God was bold: A Leper once he lost and gain’d a King, Ahaz his sottish Conquerour, whom he drew Gods Altar to disparage and displace For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn His odious offrings, and adore the Gods Whom he had vanquisht. After these appear’d A crew who under Names of old Renown, Osiris, Isis, Orus and their Train With monstrous shapes and sorceries abus’d Fanatic Egypt and her Priests, to seek Thir wandring Gods disguis’d in brutish forms Rather then human. Nor did Israel scape Th’ infection when their borrow’d Gold compos’d The Calf in Oreb: and the Rebel King Doubl’d that sin in Bethel and in Dan, Lik’ning his Maker to the Grazed Ox, Jehovah, who in one Night when he pass’d From Egypt marching, equal’d with one stroke Both her first born and all her bleating Gods. Belial came last, then whom a Spirit more lewd Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love Vice for it self: To him no Temple stood Or Altar smoak’d; yet who more oft then hee In Temples and at Altars, when the Priest Turns Atheist, as did Ely’s Sons, who fill’d With lust and violence the house of God. In Courts and Palaces he also Reigns And in luxurious Cities, where the noyse Of riot ascends above thir loftiest Towrs, And injury and outrage: And when Night Darkens the Streets, then wander forth the Sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. Witness the Streets of Sodom, and that night In Gibeah, when hospitable Dores Yielded thir Matrons to prevent worse rape. These were the prime in order and in might; The rest were long to tell, though far renown’d, Th’ Ionian Gods, of Javans Issue held Gods, yet confest later then Heav’n and Earth Thir boasted Parents; Titian Heav’ns first born With his enormous brood, and birthright seis’d By younger Saturn, he from mightier Jove His own and Rhea’s Son like measure found; So Jove usurping reign’d: these first in Creet And Ida known, thence on the Snowy top Of cold Olympus rul’d the middle Air Thir highest Heav’n; or on the Delphian Cliff, Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds Of Doric Land; or who with Saturn old Fled over Adria to th’ Hesperian Fields, And ore the Celtic roam’d the utmost Isles. All these and more came flocking; but with looks Down cast and damp, yet such wherein appear’d Obscure som glimps of joy, to have found thir chief Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost In loss it self; which on his count’nance cast Like doubtful hue: but he his wonted pride Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore Semblance of worth not substance, gently rais’d Their fainted courage, and dispel’d their fears. Then strait commands that at the warlike sound Of Trumpets loud and Clarions be upreard His mighty Standard; that proud honour claim’d Azazel as his right, a Cherube tall: Who forthwith from the glittering Staff unfurld Th’ Imperial Ensign, which full high advanc’t Shon like a Meteor streaming to the Wind With Gemms and Golden lustre rich imblaz’d, Seraphic arms and Trophies: all the while Sonorous mettal blowing Martial sounds: At which the universal Host upsent A shout that tore Hells Concave, and beyond Frighted the Reign of Chaos and old Night. All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand Banners rise into the Air With Orient Colours waving: with them rose A Forrest huge of Spears: and thronging Helms Appear’d, and serried Shields in thick array Of depth immeasurable: Anon they move In perfect Phalanx to the Dorian mood Of Flutes and soft Recorders; such as rais’d To highth of noblest temper Hero’s old Arming to Battel, and in stead of rage Deliberate valour breath’d, firm and unmov’d With dread of death to flight or foul retreat, Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage With solemn touches, troubl’d thoughts, and chase Anguish and doubt and fear and sorrow and pain From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they Breathing united force with fixed thought Mov’d on in silence to soft Pipes that charm’d Thir painful steps o’re the burnt soyle; and now Advanc’t in view they stand, a horrid Front Of dreadful length and dazling Arms, in guise Of Warriers old with order’d Spear and Shield, Awaiting what command thir mighty Chief Had to impose: He through the armed Files Darts his experienc’t eye, and soon traverse The whole Battalion views, thir order due, Thir visages and stature as of Gods, Thir number last he summs. And now his heart Distends with pride, and hardning in his strength Glories: For never since created man, Met such imbodied force, as nam’d with these Could merit more then that small infantry Warr’d on by Cranes: though all the Giant brood Of Phlegra with th’ Heroic Race were joyn’d That fought at Theb’s and Ilium, on each side Mixt with auxiliar Gods; and what resounds In Fable or Romance of Uthers Son Begirt with British and Armoric Knights; And all who since, Baptiz’d or Infidel Jousted in Aspramont or Montalban, Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore When Charlemain with all his Peerage fell By Fontarabbia. Thus far these beyond Compare of mortal prowess, yet observ’d Thir dread Commander: he above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent Stood like a Towr; his form had yet not lost All her Original brightness, nor appear’d Less then Arch Angel ruind, and th’ excess Of Glory obscur’d: As when the Sun new ris’n Looks through the Horizontal misty Air Shorn of his Beams, or from behind the Moon In dim Eclips disastrous twilight sheds On half the Nations, and with fear of change Perplexes Monarchs. Dark’n’d so, yet shon Above them all th’ Arch Angel: but his face Deep scars of Thunder had intrencht, and care Sat on his faded cheek, but under Browes Of dauntless courage, and considerate Pride Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but cast Signs of remorse and passion to behold The fellows of his crime, the followers rather (Far other once beheld in bliss) condemn’d For ever now to have their lot in pain, Millions of Spirits for his fault amerc’t Of Heav’n, and from Eternal Splendors flung For his revolt, yet faithfull how they stood, Thir Glory witherd. As when Heavens Fire Hath scath’d the Forrest Oaks, or Mountain Pines, With singed top their stately growth though bare Stands on the blasted Heath. He now prepar’d To speak; whereat their doubl’d Ranks they bend From Wing to Wing, and half enclose him round With all his Peers: attention held them mute. Thrice he assayd, and thrice in spite of scorn, Tears such as Angels weep, burst forth: at last Words interwove with sighs found out their way.
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John Milton

John Milton was an English poet, polemicist, man of letters, and civil servant for the Commonwealth of England under its Council of State and later under Oliver Cromwell. He wrote at a time of religious flux and political upheaval, and is best known for his epic poem Paradise Lost, written in blank verse. more…

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