ESCEND from Heav'n, Urania, by that name If rightly thou art call'd, whose voice divine Following, above th' Olympian hill I soar, Above the flight of Pegaséan wing.
The meaning, not the name, I call: for thou Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top Of old Olympus dwell'st, but, heav'nly born Before the hills appear'd, or fountains flow'd, Thou with eternal wisdom didst converse, Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play In presence of th' almighty Father, pleas'd With thy celestial song. Up led by thee Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns I have presum'd, An earthly guest, and drawn empyréal air, Thy temp'ring; with like safety guided down Return me to my native element:
Lest from this flying steed unrein'd, (as once
Bellerophon, though from a lower clime)
Dismounted, on th' Aleian field I fall
Erroneous there to wander, and forlorn.
Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound Within the visible diurnal sphere;
Standing on earth, not rapt above the pole, More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days, On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues; In darkness, and with dangers compass'd round, And solitude: yet not alone, while thou
Visit'st my slumbers nightly, or when morn Purples the east: still govern thou my song, Urania, and fit audience find, though few. But drive far off the barbarous dissonance Of Bacchus and his revelers, the race Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian bard, In Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears To rapture, till the savage clamour drown'd Both harp and voice; nor could the Muse defend Her son. So fail not thou, who thee implores; For thou art heav'nly, she an empty dream.
Say, Goddess, what ensued when Raphaël The affable Archangel, had forewarn'd Adam by dire example to beware Apostasy, by what befel in Heaven To those apostates, lest the like befall In Paradise to Adam or his race,
Charg'd not to touch the interdicted tree,
If they transgress, and slight that sole command,
So easily obey'd, amid the choice
Of all tastes else to please their appetite,
Though wand'ring. He with his consorted Eve 50 The story heard attentive, and was fill'd
With admiration and deep muse, to hear
Of things so high and strange, things to their thought So unimaginable as hate in Heaven,
And war so near the peace of God in bliss With such confusion: but the evil soon,
Driv'n back, redounded as a flood on those
From whom it sprung, impossible to mix
With blessedness. Whence Adam soon repeal'd The doubts that in his heart arose: and now Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know What nearer might concern him; how this world Of Heav'n and Earth conspicuous first began, When, and whereof created, for what cause, What within Eden or without was done Before his memory; as one whose drought,
Yet scarce allay'd, still eyes the current stream,
Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, Proceeded thus to ask his heav'nly guest.
"Great things, and full of wonder in our ears, 70 Far differing from this world, thou hast reveal'd, Divine interpreter, by favour sent
Down from the empyréan to forewarn
Us timely' of what might else have been our loss, Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach: For which to th' infinitely good we owe Immortal thanks, and his admonishment Receive, with solemn purpose to observe Immutably his sov'reign will, the end
Of what we are. But since thou hast vouchsaf'd 80 Gently for our instruction to impart
Things above earthly thought, which yet concern'd Our knowing, as to highest wisdom seem'd, Deign to descend now lower, and relate What may no less perhaps avail us known; How first began this Heav'n which we behold Distant so high, with moving fires adorn'd Innumerable, and this which yields or fills All space, the ambient air wide interfus'd Embracing round this florid earth; what cause Mov'd the Creator, in his holy rest Through all eternity, so late to build In Chaos, and, the work begun, how soon Absolv'd, if unforbid thou mayst unfold What we, not to explore the secrets, ask Of his eternal empire, but the more
To magnify his works, the more we know. And the great light of day yet wants to run
Much of his race though steep; suspense in Heaven, Held by thy voice, thy potent voice, he hears, 100
And longer will delay to hear thee tell His generation, and the rising birth Of nature from the unapparent deep:
Or if the star of evening and the moon
Haste to thy audience, night with her will bring Silence, and sleep, list'ning to thee, will watch, 106
Or we can bid his absence, till thy song End, and dismiss thee ere the morning shine" Thus Adam his illustrious guest besought: And thus the Godlike Angel answer'd mild. "This also thy request, with caution ask'd, Obtain: though to recount almighty works What words of tongue or Seraph can suffice, Or heart of man suffice to comprehend?
Yet what thou canst attain, which best may serve To glorify the Maker, and infer
Thee also happier, shall not be withheld
Thy hearing; such commission from above I have receiv'd, to answer thy desire
Of knowledge within bounds; beyond abstain To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope Things not reveal'd, which th' invisible King, Only omniscient, hath suppress'd in night, To none communicable in Earth or Heaven: Enough is left besides to search and know. But knowledge is as food, and needs no less Her temp'rance over appetite, to know In measure what the mind may well contain; Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns Wisdom to folly' as nourishment to wind.
"Know then, that after Lucifer from Heaven (So call him, brighter once amidst the host Of angels than that star the stars among) Fell with his flaming legions through the deep Into his place, and the great Son return'd Victorious with his Saints, th' omnipotent Eternal Father from his throne beheld
Their multitude, and to his Son thus spake.
"At least our envious foe hath fail'd, who thought
All like himself rebellious, by whose aid
This inaccessible high strength, the seat
Of deity supreme, us dispossess'd,
He trusted to have seiz'd, and into fraud
Drew many, whom their place knows here no more; Yet far the greater part have kept, I see,
Their station; Heav'n yet populous retains
Number sufficient to possess her realms
Though wide, and this high temple to frequent With ministeries due and solemn rites:
But lest his heart exalt him in the harm Already done, to have dispeopled Heaven, My damage fondly deem'd, I can repair That detriment, if such it be to lose Self-lost, and in a moment will create Another world, out of one man a race Of men innumerable, there to dwell, Not here, till by degrees of merit rais'd They open to themselves at length the way Up hither, under long obedience try'd,
And Earth be chang'd to Heaven, and Heav'n to Earth, One kingdom, joy and union without end. Meanwhile inhabit lax, ye Pow'rs of Heav'n, And thou my Word, begotten Son, by thee This I perform; speak thou, and be it done: My overshadowing Spirit and might with thee 165 I send along; ride forth, and bid the deep Within appointed bounds be Heav'n and Earth, Boundless the deep, because I am who fill Infinitude, nor vacuous the space.
Though I uncircumscrib'd myself retire, And put not forth my goodness, which is free To act or not, necessity and chance Approach not me, and what I will is fate.'
"So spake th' Almighty, and to what he spake His Word, the filial Godhead, gave effect. Immediate are the acts of God, more swift Than time or motion, but to human ears Cannot without procéss of speech be told, So told as earthly notion can receive.
Great triumph and rejoicing was in Heaven, When such was heard declar'd th' Almighty's will;
Glory they sung to the Most High, good-will To future men, and in their dwellings peace: Glory to him, whose just avenging ire
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