Paradise Lost. John Laws Milton

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Paradise Lost - John Laws Milton

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Hymns, and to his Godhead sing Forc’t Halleluiah’s; while he Lordly sits Our envied Sovran, and his Altar breathes Ambrosial Odours and Ambrosial Flowers, Our servile offerings. This must be our task In Heav’n, this our delight; how wearisom Eternity so spent in worship paid To whom we hate. Let us not then pursue By force impossible, by leave obtain’d Unacceptable, though in Heav’n, our state Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek Our own good from our selves, and from our own Live to our selves, though in this vast recess, Free, and to none accountable, preferring Hard liberty before the easie yoke Of servile Pomp. Our greatness will appear Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse We can create, and in what place so e’re Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain Through labour and endurance. This deep world Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst Thick clouds and dark doth Heav’ns all-ruling Sire Choose to reside, his Glory unobscur’d, And with the Majesty of darkness round Covers his Throne; from whence deep thunders roar Must’ring thir rage, and Heav’n resembles Hell? As he our Darkness, cannot we his Light Imitate when we please? This Desart soile Wants not her hidden lustre, Gemms and Gold; Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise Magnificence; and what can Heav’n shew more? Our torments also may in length of time Become our Elements, these piercing Fires As soft as now severe, our temper chang’d Into their temper; which must needs remove The sensible of pain. All things invite To peaceful Counsels, and the settl’d State Of order, how in safety best we may Compose our present evils, with regard Of what we are and where, dismissing quite All thoughts of Warr: ye have what I advise.

      He scarce had finisht, when such murmur filld

       Th’ Assembly, as when hollow Rocks retain

       The sound of blustring winds, which all night long

       Had rous’d the Sea, now with hoarse cadence lull

       Sea-faring men orewatcht, whose Bark by chance

       Or Pinnace anchors in a craggy Bay

       After the Tempest: Such applause was heard

       As Mammon ended, and his Sentence pleas’d, Advising peace: for such another Field They dreaded worse then Hell: so much the fear Of Thunder and the Sword of Michael Wrought still within them; and no less desire To found this nether Empire, which might rise By pollicy, and long process of time, In emulation opposite to Heav’n. Which when Beelzebub perceiv’d, then whom, Satan except, none higher sat, with grave Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem’d A Pillar of State; deep on his Front engraven Deliberation sat and publick care; And Princely counsel in his face yet shon, Majestick though in ruin: sage he stood With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest Monarchies; his look Drew audience and attention still as Night Or Summers Noon-tide air, while thus he spake.

      Thrones and imperial Powers, off-spring of heav’n,

       Ethereal Vertues; or these Titles now

       Must we renounce, and changing stile be call’d

       Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote

       Inclines, here to continue, and build up here

       A growing Empire; doubtless; while we dream,

       And know not that the King of Heav’n hath doom’d

       This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat

       Beyond his Potent arm, to live exempt

       From Heav’ns high jurisdiction, in new League

       Banded against his Throne, but to remaine

       In strictest bondage, though thus far remov’d,

       Under th’ inevitable curb, reserv’d

       His captive multitude: For he, be sure,

       In highth or depth, still first and last will Reign

       Sole King, and of his Kingdom loose no part

       By our revolt, but over Hell extend

       His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule

       Us here, as with his Golden those in Heav’n.

       What sit we then projecting Peace and Warr?

       Warr hath determin’d us, and foild with loss

       Irreparable; tearms of peace yet none

       Voutsaf’t or sought; for what peace will be giv’n

       To us enslav’d, but custody severe,

       And stripes, and arbitrary punishment

       Inflicted? and what peace can we return,

       But to our power hostility and hate,

       Untam’d reluctance, and revenge though slow,

       Yet ever plotting how the Conquerour least

       May reap his conquest, and may least rejoyce

       In doing what we most in suffering feel?

       Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need

       With dangerous expedition to invade

       Heav’n, whose high walls fear no assault or Siege,

       Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find

       Some easier enterprize? There is a place

       (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav’n

       Err not) another World, the happy seat

       Of som new Race call’d Man, about this time To be created like to us, though less In power and excellence, but favour’d more Of him who rules above; so was his will Pronounc’d among the Gods, and by an Oath, That shook Heav’ns whol circumference, confirm’d. Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn What creatures there inhabit, of what mould, Or substance, how endu’d, and what thir Power, And where thir weakness, how attempted best, By force or suttlety: Though Heav’n be shut, And Heav’ns high Arbitrator sit secure In his own strength, this place may lye expos’d The utmost border of his Kingdom, left To their defence who hold it: here perhaps Som advantagious act may be achiev’d By sudden onset, either with Hell fire To waste his whole Creation, or possess All as our own, and drive as we were driven, The punie habitants, or if not drive, Seduce them to our Party, that thir God May prove thir foe, and with repenting hand Abolish his own works. This would surpass Common revenge, and interrupt his joy In our Confusion, and our Joy upraise In his disturbance; when his darling Sons Hurl’d headlong to partake with us, shall curse Thir frail Originals, and faded bliss, Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth Attempting, or to sit in darkness here Hatching vain Empires. Thus Beelzebub Pleaded his devilish Counsel, first devis’d By Satan, and in part propos’d: for whence, But from the Author of all ill could Spring So deep a malice, to confound the race Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell To mingle and involve, done all to spite The great Creatour? But thir spite still serves His glory to augment. The bold design Pleas’d highly those infernal States, and joy Sparkl’d in all thir eyes; with full assent They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews.

      Well have ye judg’d, well ended long debate,

      

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