Like change on sea and land, sideral blast,
Vapour, and mist, and exhalation hot, Corrupt and pestilent: Now from the north Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shore,
Bursting their brazen dungeon, arm'd with ice And snow and hail and stormy gust and flaw, Boreas and Cæcias and Argestes loud
And Thrascias rend the woods and seas upturn; With adverse blast upturns them from the south Notus and Afer black with thund'rous clouds From Serraliona; thwart of these as fierce
Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl, And fish with fish; to graze the herb all leaving, Devour'd each other; nor stood much in awe Of Man, but fled him, or with count'nance grim Glar'd on him passing. These were from without The growing miseries, which Adam saw Already' in part, though hid in gloomiest shade, To sorrow' abandon'd, but worse felt within, And in a troubled sea of passion tost, Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint.
O MISERABLE of happy! is this the end Of this new glorious world, and me so late The glory of that glory, who now become
Accurs'd of blessed, hide me from the face
Of God, whom to behold was then my height Of happiness! yet well if here would end
The misery; I deserv'd it, and would bear
My own deservings; but this will not serve; All that I eat or drink, or shall beget,
Is propagated curse. O voice once heard Delightfully, "Increase and multiply," Now death to hear! for what can I increase Or multiply, but curses on my head?
Who of all ages to succeed, but feeling The evil on him brought by me, will curse My head? Ill fare our ancestor impure,
For this we may thank Adam; but his thanks Shall be the execration; so besides
Mine own that bide upon me, all from me
Shall with a fierce reflux on me redound,
On me as on their natural centre light
Heavy, though in their place. O fleeting joys
Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes!
Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
To mould me Man, did I solicit thee,
From darkness to promote me, or here place
In this delicious garden? as my will
Concurr'd not to my be'ing, it were but right And equal to reduce me to my dust,
Desirous to resign and render back
All I receiv'd, unable to perform
Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold
The good I sought not. To the loss of that,
Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added The sense of endless woes? Inexplicable Thy justice seems; yet to say truth, too late I thus contest; then should have been refus'd
Those terms whatever, when they were propos'd: Thou didst accept them; wilt thou enjoy the good, Then cavil the conditions? and though God Made thee without thy leave, what if thy son Prove disobedient, and reprov'd, retort, Wherefore didst thou beget me? I sought it not: Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee
That proud excuse? yet him not thy election, But natural necessity begot.
God made thee' of choice his own, and of his own To serve him; thy reward was of his grace, Thy punishment then justly' is at his will. Be' it so, for I submit; his doom is fair, That dust I am, and shall to dust return:
O welcome hour whenever! Why delays
His hand to execute what his decree
Fix'd on this day? Why do I overlive,
Why am I mock'd with death, and lengthen'd out To deathless pain? How gladly would I meet
Mortality my sentence, and be earth
Insensible, how glad would lay me down As in my mother's lap ? There I should rest And sleep secure; his dreadful voice no more Would thunder in my ears, no fear of worse To me and to my offspring would torment me With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt
Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die,
Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of Man Which God inspir'd, cannot together perish With this corporeal clod; then in the grave, Or in some other dismal place, who knows But I shall die a living death? O thought Horrid, if true! yet why? it was but breath Of life that sinn'd; what dies but what had life And sin? the body properly hath neither.
All of me then shall die: let this appease
The doubt, since human reach no further knows. For though the Lord of all be infinite,
Is his wrath also? Be it, Man is not so,
But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise
Wrath without end on Man whom death must end? Can he make deathless death? That were to make
Strange contradiction, which to God himself
Impossible is held, as argument
Of weakness not of pow'r. Will he draw out, For anger's sake, finite to infinite
In punish'd Man, to satisfy his rigour Satisfy'd never? That were to extend
His sentence beyond dust and nature's law, By which all causes else according still
To the reception of their matter act,
Not to th' extent of their own sphere. But say That death be not one stroke, as I suppos'd,
Bereaving sense, but endless misery
From this day onward, which I feel begun Both in me, and without me, and so last
To perpetuity; Ay me, that fear
Comes thund'ring back with dreadful revolution
On my defenceless head; both Death and I
Am found eternal, and incorporate both,
Nor I on my part single, in me all
Posterity stands curs'd: Fair patrimony
That I must leave ye, Sons; O were I able
To waste it all myself, and leave ye none! So disinherited how would ye bless
Me now your curse! Ah, why should all mankind For one man's fault thus guiltless be condemn'd, If guiltless? But from me what can proceed But all corrupt, both mind and will deprav'd, Not to do only, but to will the same
With me? How can they then acquitted stand In sight of God? Him after all disputes Forc'd I absolve: all my evasions vain,
And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still But to my own conviction: first and last On me, me only, as the source and spring Of all corruption, all the blame lights due; So might the wrath. Fond wish! could'st thou That burden heavier than the earth to bear, Than all the world much heavier, though divided With that bad Woman? Thus what thou desir'st And what thou fear'st, alike destroys all hope Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable Beyond all past example and futúre, To Satan only like both crime and doom. O conscience, into what abyss of fears
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