John Milton

Thus with the year

Seasons return; but not to me returns

Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn,

Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,

Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;

But cloud instead, and ever-during dark

Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men

Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair

Presented with a universal blank

Of Nature's works to me expunged and razed,

And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.

Sabean odours from the spicy shore

Of Araby the Blest.

Satan, now first inflam’d with rage, came down,

The Tempter ere th’ Accuser of man-kind,

To wreck on innocent frail man his loss

Of that first Battel, and his flight to Hell:

Yet not rejoycing in his speed, though bold,

Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast,

Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth

Now rowling, boiles in his tumultuous brest,

And like a devillish Engine back recoiles

Upon himself; horror and doubt distract

His troubl’d thoughts, and from the bottom stirr

The Hell within him, for within him Hell

He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell

One step no more then from himself can fly

By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair

That slumberd, wakes the bitter memorie

Of what he was, what is, and what must be

Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.

Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.

Under what torments inwardly I groane;

While they adore me on the Throne of Hell,

With Diadem and Scepter high advanc’d

The lower still I fall, onely Supream

In miserie; such joy Ambition findes.

But say I could repent and could obtaine

By Act of Grace my former state; how soon

Would highth recal high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feign’d submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void.

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have peirc’d so deep:

Which would but lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase deare

Short intermission bought with double smart.

This knows my punisher; therefore as farr

From granting hee, as I from begging peace:

All hope excluded thus, behold in stead

Of us out-cast, exil'd, his new delight,

Mankind created, and for him this World.

At whose sight all the stars

Hide their diminish'd heads.

Whence and what art thou, execrable shape?

So he with difficulty and labour hard

Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour he.

I made him just and right,

Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.

Implied

Subjection, but required with gentle sway,

And by her yielded, by him best received,

Yielded with coy submission, modest pride,

And sweet reluctant amorous delay.

And out of good still to find means of evil.

To be weak is miserable,

Doing or suffering.