Dark with excessive bright thy skirts appeer,Yet dazle Heav'n, that brightest SeraphimApproach not, but with both wings veil thir eyes.Thee next they sang of all Creation first,Begotten Son, Divine Similitude,In whose conspicuous count'nance, without cloudMade visible, th' Almighty Father shines,Whom else no Creature can behold; on theeImpresst the effulgence of his Glorie abides,Transfus'd on thee his ample Spirit rests.
[390]
Hee Heav'n of Heavens and all the Powers thereinBy thee created, and by thee threw downTh' aspiring Dominations: thou that dayThy Fathers dreadful Thunder didst not spare,Nor stop thy flaming Chariot wheels, that shookHeav'ns everlasting Frame, while o're the necksThou drov'st of warring Angels disarraid.Back from pursuit thy Powers with loud acclaimeThee only extold, Son of thy Fathers might,To execute fierce vengeance on his foes,
[400]
Not so on Man; him through their malice fall'n,Father of Mercie and Grace, thou didst not doomeSo strictly, but much more to pitie encline:No sooner did thy dear and onely SonPerceive thee purpos'd not to doom frail ManSo strictly, but much more to pitie enclin'd,He to appease thy wrauth, and end the strifeOf Mercy and Justice in thy face discern'd,Regardless of the Bliss wherein hee satSecond to thee, offerd himself to die
[410]
For mans offence. O unexampl'd love,Love no where to be found less then Divine!Hail Son of God, Saviour of Men, thy NameShall be the copious matter of my SongHenceforth, and never shall my Harp thy praiseForget, nor from thy Fathers praise disjoine.Thus they in Heav'n, above the starry Sphear,Thir happie hours in joy and hymning spent.Mean while upon the firm opacous GlobeOf this round World, whose first convex divides
[420]
The luminous inferior Orbs, enclos'dFrom Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old,Satan alighted walks: a Globe farr offIt seem'd, now seems a boundless ContinentDark, waste, and wild, under the frown of NightStarless expos'd, and ever-threatning stormsOf Chaos blustring round, inclement skie;Save on that side which from the wall of Heav'nThough distant farr som small reflection gainesOf glimmering air less vext with tempest loud:
[430]
Here walk'd the Fiend at large in spacious field.As when a Vultur on Imaus bred,Whose snowie ridge the roving Tartar bounds,Dislodging from a Region scarce of preyTo gorge the flesh of Lambs or yeanling KidsOn Hills where Flocks are fed, flies toward the SpringsOf Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams;But in his way lights on the barren plainesOf Sericana, where Chineses driveWith Sails and Wind thir canie Waggons light:
[440]
So on this windie Sea of Land, the FiendWalk'd up and down alone bent on his prey,