All the unaccomplished works of Nature's hand,
Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixed,
Dissolved on earth, fleet hither, and in vain,
Till final dissolution, wander here
Those argent fields more likely habitants,
Not in the neighbouring moon, as some have dreamed:
Translated saints, or middle spirits hold, Betwixt the angelical and human kind. Hither, of ill-joined sons and daughters born, First from the ancient world those giants came, With many a vain exploit, though then renowned: The builders next of Babel on the plain
Of Sennaar, and still with vain design
New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build. Others came single; he who, to Le deemed A god, leaped fondly into Ætna flames, Empedocles; and he who, to enjoy Plato's Elysium, leaped into the sea, Cleombrotus; and many more, too long, Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars,
White, black, and gray, with all their trumpery. Here pilgrims roam, that strayed so far to seek In Golgotha Him dead who lives in Heaven; And they who, to be sure of Paradise, Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised. They pass the planets seven, and pass the fixed, And that crystalline sphere whose balance weighs The trepidation talked, and that first moved; And now Saint Peter at Heaven's wicket seems To wait them with his keys, and now at foot Of Heaven's ascent they lift their feet, when, lo! A violent cross wind from either coast Blows them transverse, ten thousand leagues awry, Into the devious air. Then might ye see
Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers, tossed And fluttered into rags; then reliques, beads,
Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls,
The sport of winds: all these, upwhirled aloft, Fly o'er the backside of the world far off
Into a Limbo large and broad, since called The Paradise of Fools; to few unknown
Long after, now unpeopled and untrod.
All this dark globe the fiend found as he passed; And long he wandered, till at last a gleam
Of dawning light turned thitherward in haste
Far distant he descries,
Ascending by degrees magnificent
Up to the wall of Heaven, a structure high; At top whereof, but far more rich, appeared The work as of a kingly palace gate, With frontispiece of diamond and gold Embellished; thick with sparkling orient gems The portal shone, inimitable on earth By model, or by shading pencil drawn. The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw Angels ascending and descending, bands Of guardians bright, when he from Esau fled To Padan-Aram, in the field of Luz, Dreaming by night under the open sky, And waking cried, This is the gate of Heaven. Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood There always, but drawn up to Heaven sometimes Viewless; and underneath a bright sea flowed Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon Who after came from earth sailing arrived, Wafted by angels, or flew o'er the lake
Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds.
The stairs were then let down, whether to dare
The fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate
His sad exclusion from the doors of bliss: Direct against which opened from beneath, Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise,
A passage down to the earth-a passage wide;
Wider by far than that of after-times
Over Mount Sion, and, though that were large, Over the Promised Land to God so dear, By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, On high behests His angels to and fro
Passed frequent, and His eye with choice regard From Paneas, the fount of Jordan's flood,
To Beërsaba, where the Holy Land
Borders on Egypt and the Arabian shore.
So wide the opening seemed, where bounds were set To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. Satan from hence, now on the lower stair, That scaled by steps of gold to Heaven-gate, Looks down with wonder at the sudden view Of all this world at once. As when a scout, Through dark and desert ways with peril gone All night, at last by break of cheerful dawn Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill, Which to his eye discovers unaware The goodly prospect of some foreign land First seen, or some renowned metropolis With glistering spires and pinnacles adorned, Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams; Such wonder seized, though after Heaven seen, The spirit malign, but much more envy seized, At sight of all this world beheld so fair.
Round he surveys (and well might, where he stood So high above the circling canopy
Of night's extended shade) from eastern point Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears
Andromeda far off Atlantic seas
Beyond the horizon; then from pole to pole
He views in breadth-and, without longer pause,
Down right into the world's first region throws His flight precipitant, and winds with case Through the pure marble air his oblique way Amongst innumerable stars, that shone
Stars distant, but nigh hand seemed other worlds. Or other worlds they seemed, or happy isles, Like those Hesperian gardens famed of old, Fortunate fields, and groves, and flowery vales; Thrice happy isles! But who dwelt happy there He stayed not to inquire: above them all The golden sun, in splendour likest Heaven, Allured his eye. Thither his course he bends, Through the calm firmament (but up or down, By centre or eccentric, hard to tell,
Or longitude) where the great luminary, Aloof the vulgar constellations thick, That from his lordly eye keep distance due,
Their starry dance, in numbers that compute
Dispenses light from far. They, as they move
Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering lamp, Turn swift their various motions, or are turned
By his magnetic beam, that gently warms The universe, and to each inward part With gentle penetration, though unseen, Shoots invisible virtue even to the deep; So wondrously was set his station bright. There lands the fiend, a spot like which perhaps Astronomer in the sun's lucent orb Through his glazed optic tube yet never saw. The place he found beyond expression bright, Compared with aught on earth, metal or stone- Not all parts like, but all alike informed With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire. If metal, part seemed gold, part silver clear; If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite, Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone In Aaron's breast-plate, and a stone besides, Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen- That stone, or like to that, which here below Philosophers in vain so long have sought,
In vain, though by their powerful art they bind
Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound
In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, Drained through a limbeck to his native form. What wonder, then, if fields and regions here Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run Potable gold, when, with one virtuous touch The arch-chemic sun, so far from us remote, Produces, with terrestrial humour mixed, Here in the dark so many precious things Of colour glorious and effect so rare? Here matter new to gaze the Devil met Undazzled. Far and wide his eye commands; For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, But all sunshine, as when his beams at noon Culminate from the equator, as they now Shot upward still direct, whence no way round Shadow from body opaque can fall; and the air, Nowhere so clear, sharpened his visual ray To objects distant far, whereby he soon Saw within ken a glorious angel stand, The same whom John saw also in the sun.
His back was turned, but not his brightness hid; Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar
Circled his head, nor less his locks behind Illustrious on his shoulders fledge with wings
Lay waving round: on some great charge employed He seemed, or fixed in cogitation deep.
Glad was the spirit impure, as now in hope
To find who might direct his wandering flight To Paradise, the happy seat of man, His journey's end, and our beginning woe. But first he casts to change his proper shape, Which else might work him danger or delay : And now a stripling cherub he appears, Not of the prime, yet such as in his face Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb Suitable grace diffused; so well he feigned.
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