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If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite,
Ruby or topaz; or the twelve that shone
In Aaron's breast-plate and a stone besides,
Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen―
That stone, or like to that, which here below
Philosophers in vain so long have sought
In vain, though by their powerful art they bind
Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound,
In various shapes, old Proteus from the sea,
Drain'd through a limbec to his native form.
What wonder, then, if fields and regions here
Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run
Potable gold, when, with one virtuous touch,
The arch-chymic sun, so far from us remote,
Produces, with terrestrial humour mix'd,
Here in the dark so many precious things
Of colour glorious, and effect so rare?
Here matter new to gaze the devil met
Undazzled; far and wide his eye commands;
For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade,
But all sunshine; as when his beams at noon
Culminate from the equator, as they now
Shot upward still direct, whence no way round
Shadow from body opaque can fall; and the air,
Nowhere so clear, sharpen'd his visual ray
To objects distant far, whereby he soon
Saw within ken a glorious angel stand,

The same whom John saw also in the sun :
His back was turn'd, but not his brightness hid;
Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar

Circled his head, nor less his locks behind,
Illustrious, on his shoulders, fledge with wings,
Lay waving round; on some great charge employ'd
He seem'd, or fix'd in cogitation deep.

Glad was the spirit impure, as now in hope
To find who might direct his wandering flight
To Paradise, the happy seat of man,

His journey's end, and our beginning woe.
But first he casts to change his proper shape,
Which else might work him danger or delay:
And now a stripling cherub he appears,
Not of the prime, yet such as in his face
Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb
Suitable grace diffused, so well he feign'd:
Under a coronet his flowing hair,

In curls on either cheek, play'd; wings he wore,
Of many a colour'd plume, sprinkled with gold;
His habit fit for speed succinct, and held
Before his decent steps a silver wand.

He drew not nigh unheard; the angel bright,
Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turn'd,
Admonish'd by his ear, and straight was known
The archangel Uriel, one of the seven

Who, in God's presence, nearest to his throne,
Stand ready at command, and are his eyes

That run through all the heavens, or down to the earth Bear his swift errands, over moist and dry,

O'er sea and land: him Satan thus accosts :

"Uriel! for thou, of those seven spirits that stand In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, The first, art wont his great authentic will Interpreter through highest heaven to bring, Where all his sons thy embassy attend ; And here art likeliest, by supreme decree, Like honour to obtain, and, as his eye, To visit oft this new creation round; Unspeakable desire to see, and know

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All these his wondrous works, but chiefly man,
His chief delight and favour-him for whom
All these his works so wondrous he ordain'd,
Hath brought me from the choirs of cherubim
Alone thus wandering. Brightest seraph, tell
In which of all these shining orbs hath man
His fixed seat; or fixed seat hath none,
But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell;

That I may find him, and with secret gaze,
Or open admiration, him behold

On whom the great Creator hath bestow'd

Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces pour'd;
That both in him and all things, as is meet,
The universal Maker we may praise,
Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes
To deepest hell, and, to repair that loss,
Created this new happy race of men

To serve him better: wise are all his ways."
So spake the false dissembler unperceived;
For neither man nor angel can discern
Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks
Invisible, except to God alone,

By his permissive will, through heaven and earth:
And oft, though Wisdom wake, Suspicion sleeps
At Wisdom's gate, and to Simplicity

Resigns her charge, while Goodness thinks no ill
Where no ill seems which now for once beguiled
Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held
The sharpest-sighted spirit of all in heaven;
Who to the fraudulent impostor foul,
In his uprightness, answer thus return'd:

"Fair angel, thy desire, which tends to know The works of God, thereby to glorify

The

great Work-master, leads to no excess
That reaches blame, but rather merits praise
The more it seems excess, that led thee hither
From thy empyreal mansion thus alone,
To witness with thine eyes what some, perhaps,
Contented with report, hear only in heaven :
For wonderful indeed are all his works!
Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all

Had in remembrance always with delight.
But what created mind can comprehend

Their number, or the wisdom infinite

That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep?

I saw when, at his word, the formless mass,
This world's material mould, came to a heap :
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar
Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined;
Till, at his second bidding, darkness fled,
Light shone, and order from disorder sprung:
Swift to their several quarters hasted then
The cumbrous elements-earth, flood, air, fire;
And this ethereal quintessence of heaven
Flew upward, spirited with various forms,
That roll'd orbicular, and turn'd to stars
Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move;
Each had his place appointed, each his course;
The rest in circuit walls this universe.

Look downward on that globe, whose hither side,
With light from hence, though but reflected, shines;
That place is earth, the seat of man; that light
His day, which else, as the other hemisphere,
Night would invade; but there the neighbouring moon
(So call that opposite fair star) her aid

Timely interposes, and her monthly round
Still ending, still renewing, through mid heaven,

With borrow'd light her countenance triform
Hence fills and empties, to enlighten the earth,
And in her pale dominion checks the night.
That spot to which I point is Paradise,
Adam's abode; those lofty shades, his bower.
Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires."
Thus said, he turn'd; and Satan, bowing low,

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