The Complete Poems (Penguin Classics)

by John Milton

  20 Spaces incomprehensible (for such

  Their distance argues and their swift return

  Diurnal) merely to officiate light

  Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot,

  One day and night; in all their vast survéy

  25 Useless besides, reasoning I oft admire,

  How Nature wise and frugal could commit

  Such disproportions, with superfluous hand

  So many nobler bodies to create,

  Greater so manifold, to this one use,

  30 For aught appears, and on their orbs impose

  Such restless revolution day by day

  Repeated, while the sedentary earth,

  That better might with far less compass move,

  Served by more noble than herself, attains

  35 Her end without least motion, and receives,

  As tribute such a sumless journey brought

  Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light;

  Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails.

  So spake our sire, and by his count’nance seemed

  40 Ent’ring on studious thoughts abstruse, which Eve

  Perceiving where she sat retired in sight,

  With lowliness majestic from her seat,

  And grace that won who saw to wish her stay,

  Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flow’rs,

  45 To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom,

  Her nursery; they at her coming sprung

  And touched by her fair tendance gladlier grew.

  Yet went she not, as not with such discourse

  Delighted, or not capable her ear

  50 Of what was high: such pleasure she reserved,

  Adam relating, she sole auditress;

  Her husband the relater she preferred

  Before the angel, and of him to ask

  Chose rather; he, she knew would intermix

  55 Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute

  With conjugal caresses; from his lip

  Not words alone pleased her. O when meet now

  Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined?

  With goddess-like demeanour forth she went;

  60 Not unattended, for on her as queen

  A pomp of winning Graces waited still,

  And from about her shot darts of desire

  Into all eyes to wish her still in sight.

  And Raphael now to Adam’s doubt proposed

  65 Benevolent and facile thus replied.

  To ask or search I blame thee not, for heav’n

  Is as the Book of God before thee set,

  Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn

  His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years:

  70 This to attain, whether heav’n move or earth,

  Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest

  From man or angel the great Architect

  Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge

  His secrets to be scanned by them who ought

  75 Rather admire; or if they list to try

  Conjecture, he his fabric of the heav’ns

  Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move

  His laughter at their quaint opinions wide

  Hereafter, when they come to model heav’n

  80 And calculate the stars, how they will wield

  The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive

  To save appearances, how gird the sphere

  With centric and eccentric scribbled o’er,

  Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb:

  85 Already by thy reasoning this I guess,

  Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest

  That bodies bright and greater should not serve

  The less not bright, nor heav’n such journeys run,

  Earth sitting still, when she alone receives

  90 The benefit: consider first, that great

  Or bright infers not excellence; the earth

  Though, in comparison of heav’n, so small,

  Nor glistering, may of solid good contain

  More plenty than the sun that barren shines,

  95 Whose virtue on itself works no effect,

  But in the fruitful earth; there first received

  His beams, unactive else, their vigour find.

  Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries

  Officious, but to thee earth’s habitant.

  100 And for the heav’n’s wide circuit, let it speak

  The Maker’s high magnificence, who built

  So spacious, and his line stretched out so far;

  That man may know he dwells not in his own;

  An edifice too large for him to fill,

  105 Lodged in a small partition, and the rest

  Ordained for uses to his Lord best known.

  The swiftness of those circles áttribúte,

  Though numberless, to his Omnipotence,

  That to corporeal substances could add

  110 Speed almost spiritual; me thou think’st not slow,

  Who since the morning hour set out from Heav’n

  Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived

  In Eden, distance inexpressible

  By numbers that have name. But this I urge,

  115 Admitting motion in the heav’ns, to show

  Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved;

  Not that I so affirm, though so it seem

  To thee who hast thy dwelling here on earth.

  God to remove his ways from human sense,

  120 Placed heav’n from earth so far, that earthly sight,

  If it presume, might err in things too high,

  And no advantage gain. What if the sun

  Be centre to the world, and other stars

  By his attractive virtue and their own

  125 Incited, dance about him various rounds?

  Their wand’ring course now high, now low, then hid,

  Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,

  In six thou seest, and what if seventh to these

  The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem,

  130 Insensibly three different motions move?

  Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe,

  Moved contrary with thwart obliquities,

  Or save the sun his labour, and that swift

  Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed,

  135 Invisible else above all stars, the wheel

  Of day and night; which needs not thy belief,

  If earth industrious of herself fetch day

  Travelling east, and with her part averse

  From the sun’s beam meet night, her other part

  140 Still luminous by his ray. What if that light

  Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air,

  To the terrestrial moon be as a star

  Enlight’ning her by day, as she by night

  This earth? reciprocal, if land be there,

  145 Fields and inhabitants: her spots thou seest

  As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce

  Fruits in her softened soil, for some to eat

  Allotted there; and other suns perhaps

  With their attendant moons thou wilt descry

  150 Communicating male and female light,

  Which two great sexes animate the world,

  Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live.

  For such vast room in Nature unpossessed

  By living soul, desért and desolate,

  155 Only to shine, yet scarce to cóntribute

  Each orb a glimpse of light, conveyed so far

  Down to this habitable, which returns

  Light back to them, is obvious to dispute.

  But whether thus these things, or whether not,

  160 Whether the sun predominant in heav’n

  Rise on the earth, or earth rise on the sun,

  He from the east his flaming road begin,

  Or she from west
her silent course advance

  With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps

  165 On her soft axle, while she paces ev’n,

  And bears thee soft with the smooth air along,

  Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid,

  Leave them to God above, him serve and fear;

  Of other creatures, as him pleases best,

  170 Wherever placed, let him dispose: joy thou

  In what he gives to thee, this Paradise

  And thy fair Eve; heav’n is for thee too high

  To know what passes there; be lowly wise:

  Think only what concerns thee and thy being;

  175 Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there

  Live, in what state, condition or degree,

  Contented that thus far hath been revealed

  Not of earth only but of highest Heav’n.

  To whom thus Adam cleared of doubt, replied.

  180 How fully hast thou satisfied me, pure

  Intelligence of Heav’n, angel serene,

  And freed from intricacies, taught to live,

  The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts

  To interrupt the sweet of life, from which

  185 God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares,

  And not molest us, unless we ourselves

  Seek them with wand’ring thoughts, and notions vain.

  But apt the mind or fancy is to rove

  Unchecked, and of her roving is no end;

  190 Till warned, or by experience taught, she learn,

  That not to know at large of things remote

  From use, obscure and subtle, but to know

  That which before us lies in daily life,

  Is the prime wisdom; what is more, is fume,

  195 Or emptiness, or fond impertinence,

  And renders us in things that most concern

  Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek.

  Therefore from this high pitch let us descend

  A lower flight, and speak of things at hand

  200 Useful, whence haply mention may arise

  Of something not unseasonable to ask

  By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deigned.

  Thee I have heard relating what was done

  Ere my remembrance: now hear me relate

  205 My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard;

  And day is yet not spent; till then thou seest

  How subtly to detain thee I devise,

  Inviting thee to hear while I relate,

  Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply:

  210 For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heav’n,

  And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear

  Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst

  And hunger both, from labour, at the hour

  Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill,

  215 Though pleasant, but thy words with grace divine

  Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety.

  To whom thus Raphael answered Heav’nly meek.

  Nor are thy lips ungraceful, sire of men,

  Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee

  220 Abundantly his gifts hath also poured

  Inward and outward both, his image fair:

  Speaking or mute all comeliness and grace

  Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms.

  Nor less think we in Heav’n of thee on earth

  225 Than of our fellow servant, and inquire

  Gladly into the ways of God with man:

  For God we see hath honoured thee, and set

  On man his equal love: say therefore on;

  For I that day was absent, as befell,

  230 Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure,

  Far on excursion toward the gates of Hell;

  Squared in full legion (such command we had)

  To see that none thence issued forth a spy,

  Or enemy, while God was in his work,

  235 Lest he incensed at such eruption bold,

  Destruction with Creation might have mixed.

  Not that they durst without his leave attempt,

  But us he sends upon his high behests

  For state, as sov’reign King, and to inure

  240 Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut

  The dismal gates, and barricadoed strong;

  But long ere our approaching heard within

  Noise, other than the sound of dance or song,

  Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage.

  245 Glad we returned up to the coasts of light

  Ere sabbath ev’ning: so we had in charge.

  But thy relation now; for I attend,

  Pleased with thy words no less than thou with mine.

  So spake the Godlike Power, and thus our sire.

  250 For man to tell how human life began

  Is hard; for who himself beginning knew?

  Desire with thee still longer to converse

  Induced me. As new waked from soundest sleep

  Soft on the flow’ry herb I found me laid

  255 In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun

  Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed.

  Straight toward heav’n my wond’ring eyes I turned,

  And gazed a while the ample sky, till raised

  By quick instinctive motion up I sprung,

  260 As thitherward endeavouring, and upright

  Stood on my feet; about me round I saw

  Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains,

  And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these,

  Creatures that lived, and moved, and walked, or flew,

  265 Birds on the branches warbling; all things smiled,

  With fragrance and with joy my heart o’erflowed.

  Myself I then perused, and limb by limb

  Surveyed, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran

  With supple joints, as lively vigour led:

  270 But who I was, or where, or from what cause,

  Knew not; to speak I tried, and forthwith spake,

  My tongue obeyed and readily could name

  Whate’er I saw. Thou sun, said I, fair light,

  And thou enlightened earth, so fresh and gay,

  275 Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains,

  And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell,

  Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?

  Not of myself; by some great Maker then,

  In goodness and in power pre-eminent;

  280 Tell me, how may I know him, how adore,

  From whom I have that thus I move and live,

  And feel that I am happier than I know.

  While thus I called, and strayed I knew not whither,

  From where I first drew air, and first beheld

  285 This happy light, when answer none returned,

  On a green shady bank profuse of flow’rs

  Pensive I sat me down; there gentle sleep

  First found me, and with soft oppression seized

  My drowsèd sense, untroubled, though I thought

  290 I then was passing to my former state

  Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve:

  When suddenly stood at my head a dream,

  Whose inward apparition gently moved

  My fancy to believe I yet had being,

  295 And lived: one came, methought, of shape divine,

  And said, thy mansion wants thee, Adam, rise,

  First man, of men innumerable ordained

  First father, called by thee I come thy guide

  To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepared.

  300 So saying, by the hand he took me raised,

  And over fields and waters, as in air

  Smooth sliding without step, last led me up

  A woody mountain; whose high top was plain,

  A circuit wide, enclosed, with goodliest trees

  305 Planted, with walks, and bowers, that
what I saw

  Of earth before scarce pleasant seemed. Each tree

  Loaden with fairest fruit that hung to the eye

  Tempting, stirred in me sudden appetite

  To pluck and eat; whereat I waked, and found

  310 Before mine eyes all real, as the dream

  Had lively shadowed: here had new begun

  My wand’ring, had not he who was my guide

  Up hither, from among the trees appeared,

  Presence divine. Rejoicing, but with awe

  315 In adoration at his feet I fell

  Submiss: he reared me, and Whom thou sought’st I am,

  Said mildly, Author of all this thou seest

  Above, or round about thee or beneath.

  This Paradise I give thee, count it thine

  320 To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat:

  Of every tree that in the garden grows

  Eat freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth:

  But of the tree whose operation brings

  Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set

  325 The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith,

  Amid the garden by the Tree of Life,

  Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste,

  And shun the bitter consequence: for know,

  The day thou eat’st thereof, my sole command

  330 Transgressed, inevitably thou shalt die;

  From that day mortal, and this happy state

  Shalt lose, expelled from hence into a world

  Of woe and sorrow. Sternly he pronounced

  The rigid interdiction, which resounds

  335 Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice

  Not to incur; but soon his clear aspéct

  Returned and gracious purpose thus renewed.

  Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth

  To thee and to thy race I give; as lords

  340 Possess it, and all things that therein live,

  Or live in sea, or air, beast, fish, and fowl.

  In sign whereof each bird and beast behold

  After their kinds; I bring them to receive

  From thee their names, and pay thee fealty

  345 With low subjection; understand the same

  Of fish within their wat’ry residence,

  Not hither summoned, since they cannot change

  Their element to draw the thinner air.

  As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold

  350 Approaching two and two, these cow’ring low

  With blandishment, each bird stooped on his wing.

  I named them, as they passed, and understood

  Their nature, with such knowledge God endued

  My sudden apprehension: but in these

  355 I found not what methought I wanted still;

  And to the Heav’nly vision thus presumed.

  O by what name, for thou above all these,

  Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher,