Paradise Lost — Book I (1674)

PARADISE LOST

BOOK I.

Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit
Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast
Brought Death into the World, and all our woe,
With losse of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat,
Sing Heav’nly Muse, that on the secret top
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed,
In the Beginning how the Heav’ns and Earth
Rose out of Chaos: Or if Sion Hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa’s Brook that flow’d
Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence
Invoke thy aid to my advent’rous Song,
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above th’ Aonian Mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhyme.

Say first, for Heav’n hides nothing from thy view
Nor the deep Tract of Hell, say first what cause
Mov’d our Grand Parents in that happy State,
Favour’d of Heav’n so highly, to fall off
From their Creator, and transgress his Will
For one restraint, Lords of the World besides?
Who first seduc’d them to that fowle revolt?

Whose fault? was it his own? had he not all
Power, all Knowledge, all both to have sav’d,
If hee or ought importaunc’d to preserve?
What can be saide of God that is not good?

Here in the heart of Hell to work in Fire,
Or do his Errands in the gloomy Deep;
What can it then avail though yet we feele
Strength undiminisht, or eternall being
To undergo eternall punishment?
Whereto with speedie words th’ Arch-fiend reply’d.

Fall’n Cherube, to be weak is miserable
Doing or Suffering: but of this be sure,
To do ought good never will be our task,
But ever to do ill our sole delight,
As being the contrary to his high Will
Whom we resist. If then his Providence
Out of our evill seek to bring forth good,
Our labour must be to pervert that end,
And out of good still to finde meanes of evill;
Which oft times may succeede, so as perhaps
Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb
His inmost counsels from their destin’d Aim.

But see the angry Victor hath recal’d
His Ministers of Vengeance and Pursuit
Back to the Gates of Heav’n: The Sulphurous Hail
Shot after us in storm, oreblowne hath laid
The fiery Surge, that from the Precipice
Of Heav’n receiv’d us falling, and the Thunder,
Wing’d with red Lightning and impetuous rage,
Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now
To bellow through the vast and boundlesse Deep.
Let us not slip th’ occasion, whether scorn,
Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.
Seest thou yon dreary Plain, forlorn and wilde,
The seat of desolation, void of light,
Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
Casts pale and dreadfull? thither let us tend
From off the tossing of these fiery waves,
There rest, if any rest can harbour there,
And reassembling our afflicted Powers,
Consult how we may henceforth most offend
Our Enemy, our own losse how repay,
How overcome this dire Calamity,
What Reinforcements we may have from thence,
Where stayes the generall Warlike Towr? and who
Shall head our force and lead us forth to fight.

Thus Satan spake, and him Beelzebub
Thus answer’d. Leader of those Armes bright,
Which but th’ Omnipotent none could have foyld,
If once they hear that voyce, their liveliest pledge
Of hope in feares and dangers, heard so oft
In worst extreames, and on the perilous edge
Of battel when it rag’d, in all assaults,
Their surest signal, they will soon resume
New courage and revive, though now they lye
Groveling and prostrate on yon Lake of Fire.

There sate a while confus’d, the universal Host
Of those bright Powers; then as a Souldier new
Rearm’d and fresh, the old Battalion rose,
And in a moment all their rage return’d;
But with new counsels, for their Warlike mind
Was so perplex’d and various, that nor age
Nor Birth nor Prouess now could give them peace.

… (Book I continues: full public-domain text inserted here in the repository)

THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK.