Innocence Once Lost - Religious Classics Collection. Джон Мильтон

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Innocence Once Lost - Religious Classics Collection - Джон Мильтон

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formd

       First his own Tooles; then, what might else be wrought

       Fulfil or grav’n in mettle. After these,

       But on the hether side a different sort

       From the high neighbouring Hills, which was thir Seat,

       Down to the Plain descended: by thir guise

       Just men they seemd, and all thir study bent

       To worship God aright, and know his works

       Not hid, nor those things lost which might preserve

       Freedom and Peace to men: they on the Plain

       Long had not walkt, when from the Tents behold

       A Beavie of fair Women, richly gay

       In Gems and wanton dress; to the Harp they sung

       Soft amorous Ditties, and in dance came on:

       The Men though grave, ey’d them, and let thir eyes

       Rove without rein, till in the amorous Net

       Fast caught, they lik’d, and each his liking chose;

       And now of love they treat till th’ Eevning Star

       Loves Harbinger appeerd; then all in heat

       They light the Nuptial Torch, and bid invoke

       Hymen, then first to marriage Rites invok’t;

       With Feast and Musick all the Tents resound.

       Such happy interview and fair event

       Of love & youth not lost, Songs, Garlands, Flours,

       And charming Symphonies attach’d the heart

       Of Adam, soon enclin’d to admit delight, The bent of Nature; which he thus express’d.

      True opener of mine eyes, prime Angel blest,

       Much better seems this Vision, and more hope

       Of peaceful dayes portends, then those two past;

       Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse,

       Here Nature seems fulfilld in all her ends.

      To whom thus Michael. Judg not what is best By pleasure, though to Nature seeming meet, Created, as thou art, to nobler end Holie and pure, conformitie divine. Those Tents thou sawst so pleasant, were the Tents Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his Race Who slew his Brother; studious they appere Of Arts that polish Life, Inventers rare, Unmindful of thir Maker, though his Spirit Taught them, but they his gifts acknowledg’d none. Yet they a beauteous ofspring shall beget; For that fair femal Troop thou sawst, that seemd Of Goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, Yet empty of all good wherein consists Womans domestic honour and chief praise; Bred onely and completed to the taste Of lustful apperence, to sing, to dance, To dress, and troule the Tongue, and roule the Eye. To these that sober Race of Men, whose lives Religious titl’d them the Sons of God, Shall yeild up all thir vertue, all thir fame Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles Of these fair Atheists, and now swim in joy, (Erelong to swim at larg) and laugh; for which The world erelong a world of tears must weepe.

      To whom thus Adam of short joy bereft. O pittie and shame, that they who to live well Enterd so faire, should turn aside to tread Paths indirect, or in the mid way faint! But still I see the tenor of Mans woe Holds on the same, from Woman to begin.

      From Mans effeminate slackness it begins,

       Said th’ Angel, who should better hold his place

       By wisdome, and superiour gifts receavd.

       But now prepare thee for another Scene.

      He lookd and saw wide Territorie spred

       Before him, Towns, and rural works between,

       Cities of Men with lofty Gates and Towrs,

       Concours in Arms, fierce Faces threatning Warr,

       Giants of mightie Bone, and bould emprise;

       Part wield thir Arms, part courb the foaming Steed,

       Single or in Array of Battel rang’d

       Both Horse and Foot, nor idely mustring stood;

       One way a Band select from forage drives

       A herd of Beeves, faire Oxen and faire Kine

       From a fat Meddow ground; or fleecy Flock,

       Ewes and thir bleating Lambs over the Plaine,

       Thir Bootie; scarce with Life the Shepherds flye,

       But call in aide, which tacks a bloody Fray;

       With cruel Tournament the Squadrons joine;

       Where Cattel pastur’d late, now scatterd lies

       With Carcasses and Arms th’ ensanguind Field

       Deserted: Others to a Citie strong

       Lay Siege, encampt; by Batterie, Scale, and Mine,

       Assaulting; others from the Wall defend

       With Dart and Jav’lin, Stones and sulfurous Fire;

       On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds.

       In other part the scepter’d Haralds call

       To Council in the Citie Gates: anon

       Grey-headed men and grave, with Warriours mixt,

       Assemble, and Harangues are heard, but soon

       In factious opposition, till at last

       Of middle Age one rising, eminent

       In wise deport, spake much of Right and Wrong,

       Of Justice, of Religion, Truth and Peace,

       And Judgement from above: him old and young

       Exploded, and had seiz’d with violent hands,

       Had not a Cloud descending snatch’d him thence

       Unseen amid the throng: so violence

       Proceeded, and Oppression, and Sword-Law

       Through all the Plain, and refuge none was found.

       Adam was all in tears, and to his guide Lamenting turnd full sad; O what are these, Deaths Ministers, not Men, who thus deal Death Inhumanly to men, and multiply Ten thousand fould the sin of him who slew His Brother; for of whom such massacher Make they but of thir Brethren, men of men? But who was that Just Man, whom had not Heav’n Rescu’d, had in his Righteousness bin lost?

      To

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