Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)

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Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) Page 88

by Homer


  Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime.

  And chiefly Thou O Spirit, that dost prefer

  Before all Temples th’ upright heart and pure,

  Instruct me, for Thou know’st; Thou from the first

  Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread 20

  Dove-like satst brooding on the vast Abyss

  And mad’st it pregnant: What in me is dark

  Illumin, what is low raise and support;

  That to the highth of this great Argument

  I may assert Eternal Providence, 25

  And justifie the wayes of God to men.

  Say first, for Heav’n hides nothing from thy view

  Nor the deep Tract of Hell, say first what cause

  Mov’d our Grand Parents in that happy State,

  Favour’d of Heav’n so highly, to fall off 30

  From thir Creator, and transgress his Will

  For one restraint, Lords of the World besides?

  Who first seduc’d them to that foul revolt?

  Th’ infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile

  Stird up with Envy and Revenge, deceiv’d 35

  The Mother of Mankind, what time his Pride

  Had cast him out from Heav’n, with all his Host

  Of Rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring

  To set himself in Glory above his Peers,

  He trusted to have equal’d the most High, 40

  If he oppos’d; and with ambitious aim

  Against the Throne and Monarchy of God

  Rais’d impious War in Heav’n and Battel proud

  With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power

  Hurld headlong flaming from th’ Ethereal Skie 45

  With hideous ruine and combustion down

  To bottomless perdition, there to dwell

  In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire,

  Who durst defie th’ Omnipotent to Arms.

  Nine times the Space that measures Day and Night 50

  To mortal men, he with his horrid crew

  Lay vanquisht, rowling in the fiery Gulfe

  Confounded though immortal: But his doom

  Reserv’d him to more wrath; for now the thought

  Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 55

  Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes

  That witness’d huge affliction and dismay

  Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:

  At once as far as Angels kenn he views

  The dismal Situation waste and wilde, 60

  A Dungeon horrible, on all sides round

  As one great Furnace flam’d, yet from those flames

  No light, but rather darkness visible

  Serv’d onely to discover sights of woe,

  Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 65

  And rest can never dwell, hope never comes

  That comes to all; but torture without end

  Still urges, and a fiery Deluge, fed

  With ever-burning Sulphur unconsum’d:

  Such place Eternal Justice had prepar’d 70

  For those rebellious, here thir Prison ordain’d

  In utter darkness, and thir portion set

  As far remov’d from God and light of Heav’n

  As from the Center thrice to th’ utmost Pole.

  O how unlike the place from whence they fell! 75

  There the companions of his fall, o’rewhelm’d

  With Floods and Whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,

  He soon discerns, and weltring by his side

  One next himself in power, and next in crime,

  Long after known in Palestine, and nam’d 80

  Beelzebub. To whom th’ Arch-Enemy,

  And thence in Heav’n call’d Satan, with bold words

  Breaking the horrid silence thus began.

  If thou beest he; But O how fall’n! how chang’d

  From him, who in the happy Realms of Light 85

  Cloth’d with transcendent brightness didst out-shine

  Myriads though bright: If he Whom mutual league,

  United thoughts and counsels, equal hope

  And hazard in the Glorious Enterprize,

  Joynd with me once, now misery hath joynd 90

  In equal ruin: into what Pit thou seest

  From what highth fall’n, so much the stronger prov’d

  He with his Thunder: and till then who knew

  The force of those dire Arms? yet not for those,

  Nor what the Potent Victor in his rage 95

  Can else inflict, do I repent or change,

  Though chang’d in outward lustre; that fixt mind

  And high disdain, from sence of injur’d merit,

  That with the mightiest rais’d me to contend,

  And to the fierce contention brought along 100

  Innumerable force of Spirits arm’d

  That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring,

  His utmost power with adverse power oppos’d

  In dubious Battel on the Plains of Heav’n,

  And shook his throne. What though the field be lost? 105

  All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,

  And study of revenge, immortal hate,

  And courage never to submit or yield:

  And what is else not to be overcome?

  That Glory never shall his wrath or might 110

  Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace

  With suppliant knee, and deifie his power,

  Who from the terrour of this Arm so late

  Doubted his Empire, that were low indeed,

  That were an ignominy and shame beneath 115

  This downfall; since by Fate the strength of Gods

  And this Empyreal substance cannot fail,

  Since through experience of this great event

  In Arms not worse, in foresight much advanc’t,

  We may with more successful hope resolve 120

  To wage by force or guile eternal Warr

  Irreconcileable, to our grand Foe,

  Who now triumphs, and in th’ excess of joy

  Sole reigning holds the Tyranny of Heav’n.

  So spake th’ Apostate Angel, though in pain, 125

  Vaunting aloud, but rackt with deep despare:

  And him thus answer’d soon his bold Compeer.

  O Prince, O Chief of many Throned Powers,

  That led th’ imbattelld Seraphim to Warr

  Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds 130

  Fearless, endanger’d Heav’ns perpetual King;

  And put to proof his high Supremacy,

  Whether upheld by strength, or Chance, or Fate,

  Too well I see and rue the dire event,

  That with sad overthrow and foul defeat 135

  Hath lost us Heav’n, and all this mighty Host

  In horrible destruction laid thus low,

  As far as Gods and Heav’nly Essences

  Can perish: for the mind and spirit remains

  Invincible, and vigour soon returns, 140

  Though all our Glory extinct, and happy state

  Here swallow’d up in endless misery.

  But what if he our Conquerour, (whom I now

  Of force believe Almighty, since no less

  Then such could hav orepow’rd such force as ours) 145

  Have left us this our spirit and strength intire

  Strongly to suffer and support our pains,

  That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,

  Or do him mightier service as his thralls

  By right of Warr, what e’re his business be 150

  Here in the heart of Hell to work in Fire,

  Or do his Errands in the gloomy Deep;

  What can it then avail though yet we feel

  Strength undiminisht, or eternal being

  To undergo eternal punishment? 155

  Whereto with speedy words th’ Arch-fiend reply’d.

  Fall’n Cherube, to be weak is miserable
<
br />   Doing or Suffering: but of this be sure,

  To do ought good never will be our task,

  But ever to do ill our sole delight, 160

  As being the contrary to his high will

  Whom we resist. If then his Providence

  Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,

  Our labour must be to pervert that end,

  And out of good still to find means of evil; 165

  Which oft times may succeed, so as perhaps

  Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb

  His inmost counsels from thir destind aim.

  But see the angry Victor hath recall’d

  His Ministers of vengeance and pursuit 170

  Back to the Gates of Heav’n: The Sulphurous Hail

  Shot after us in storm, oreblown hath laid

  The fiery Surge, that from the Precipice

  Of Heav’n receiv’d us falling, and the Thunder,

  Wing’d with red Lightning and impetuous rage, 175

  Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now

  To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.

  Let us not slip th’ occasion, whether scorn,

  Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.

  Seest thou yon dreary Plain, forlorn and wilde, 180

  The seat of desolation, voyd of light,

  Save what the glimmering of these livid flames

  Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend

  From off the tossing of these fiery waves,

  There rest, if any rest can harbour there, 185

  And reassembling our afflicted Powers,

  Consult how we may henceforth most offend

  Our Enemy, our own loss how repair,

  How overcome this dire Calamity,

  What reinforcement we may gain from Hope, 190

  If not what resolution from despare.

  Thus Satan talking to his neerest Mate

  With Head up-lift above the wave, and Eyes

  That sparkling blaz’d, his other Parts besides

  Prone on the Flood, extended long and large 195

  Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge

  As whom the Fables name of monstrous size,

  Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr’d on Jove,

  Briareos or Typhon, whom the Den

  By ancient Tarsus held, or that Sea-beast 200

  Leviathan, which God of all his works

  Created hugest that swim th’ Ocean stream:

  Him haply slumbring on the Norway foam

  The Pilot of some small night-founder’d Skiff,

  Deeming some Island, oft, as Sea-men tell, 205

  With fixed Anchor in his skaly rind

  Moors by his side under the Lee, while Night

  Invests the Sea, and wished Morn delayes:

  So stretcht out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay

  Chain’d on the burning Lake, nor ever thence 210

  Had ris’n or heav’d his head, but that the will

  And high permission of all-ruling Heaven

  Left him at large to his own dark designs,

  That with reiterated crimes he might

  Heap on himself damnation, while he sought 215

  Evil to others, and enrag’d might see

  How all his malice serv’d but to bring forth

  Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shewn

  On Man by him seduc’t, but on himself

  Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance pour’d. 220

  Forthwith upright he rears from off the Pool

  His mighty Stature; on each hand the flames

  Drivn backward slope thir pointing spires, and rowld

  In billows, leave i’th’ midst a horrid Vale.

  Then with expanded wings he stears his flight 225

  Aloft, incumbent on the dusky Air

  That felt unusual weight, till on dry Land

  He lights, if it were Land that ever burn’d

  With solid, as the Lake with liquid fire;

  And such appear’d in hue, as when the force 230

  Of subterranean wind transports a Hill

  Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter’d side

  Of thundring Ætna, whose combustible

  And fewel’d entrals thence conceiving Fire,

  Sublim’d with Mineral fury, aid the Winds, 235

  And leave a singed bottom all involv’d

  With stench and smoak: Such resting found the sole

  Of unblest feet. Him followed his next Mate,

  Both glorying to have scap’t the Stygian flood

  As Gods, and by thir own recover’d strength, 240

  Not by the sufferance of supernal Power.

  Is this the Region, this the Soil, the Clime,

  Said then the lost Arch-Angel, this the seat

  That we must change for Heav’n, this mournful gloom

  For that celestial light? Be it so, since he 245

  Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid

  What shall be right: fardest from him is best

  Whom reason hath equald, force hath made supream

  Above his equals. Farewel happy Fields

  Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail 250

  Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell

  Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings

  A mind not to be chang’d by Place or Time.

  The mind is its own place, and in it self

  Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n. 255

  What matter where, if I be still the same,

  And what I should be, all but less then he

  Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least

  We shall be free; th’ Almighty hath not built

  Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: 260

  Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce

  To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:

  Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav’n.

  But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,

  Th’ associates and copartners of our loss 265

  Lye thus astonisht on th’ oblivious Pool,

  And call them not to share with us their part

  In this unhappy Mansion, or once more

  With rallied Arms to try what may be yet

  Regaind in Heav’n, or what more lost in Hell? 270

  So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub

  Thus answer’d. Leader of those Armies bright,

  Which but th’ Onmipotent none could have foyld,

  If once they hear that voyce, thir liveliest pledge

  Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft 275

  In worst extreams, and on the perilous edge

  Of battel when it rag’d, in all assaults

  Thir surest signal, they will soon resume

  New courage and revive, though now they lye

  Groveling and prostrate on yon Lake of Fire, 280

  As we erewhile, astounded and amaz’d,

  No wonder, fall’n such a pernicious highth.

  He scarce had ceas’t when the superiour Fiend

  Was moving toward the shoar; his ponderous shield

  Ethereal temper, massy, large and round, 285

  Behind him cast; the broad circumference

  Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose Orb

  Through Optic Glass the Tuscan Artist views

  At Ev’ning from the top of Fesole,

  Or in Valdarno, to descry new Lands, 290

  Rivers or Mountains in her spotty Globe.

  His Spear, to equal which the tallest Pine

  Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the Mast

  Of some great Ammiral, were but a wand,

  He walkt with to support uneasie steps 295

  Over the burning Marle, not like those steps

  On Heavens Azure, and the torrid Clime

  Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with Fire;

  Nathless he so endur’d, till on the Beach

  Of
that inflamed Sea, he stood and call’d 300

  His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans’t

  Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks

  In Vallombrosa, where th’ Etrurian shades

  High overarch’t imbowr; or scatterd sedge

  Afloat, when with fierce Winds Orion arm’d 305

  Hath vext the Red-Sea Coast, whose waves orethrew

  Busiris and his Memphian Chivalry,

  While with perfidious hatred they pursu’d

  The Sojourners of Goshen, who beheld

  From the safe shore thir floating Carkases 310

  And broken Chariot Wheels, so thick bestrown

  Abject and lost lay these, covering the Flood,

  Under amazement of thir hideous change.

  He call’d so loud, that all the hollow Deep

  Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates, 315

  Warriers, the Flowr of Heav’n, once yours, now lost,

  If such astonishment as this can sieze

  Eternal spirits; or have ye chos’n this place

  After the toyl of Battel to repose

  Your wearied vertue, for the ease you find 320

  To slumber here, as in the Vales of Heav’n?

  Or in this abject posture have ye sworn

  To adore the Conquerour? who now beholds

  Cherube and Seraph rowling in the Flood

  With scatter’d Arms and Ensigns, till anon 325

  His swift pursuers from Heav’n Gates discern

  Th’ advantage, and descending tread us down

  Thus drooping, or with linked Thunderbolts

  Transfix us to the bottom of this Gulfe.

  Awake, arise, or be for ever fall’n. 330

  They heard, and were abasht, and up they sprung

  Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch

  On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread,

  Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake.

  Nor did they not perceave the evil plight 335

  In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel;

  Yet to thir Generals Voyce they soon obeyd

  Innumerable. As when the potent Rod

  Of Amrams Son in Egypts evill day

  Wav’d round the Coast, up call’d a pitchy cloud 340

  Of Locusts, warping on the Eastern Wind,

  That ore the Realm of impious Pharaoh hung

  Like Night, and darken’d all the Land of Nile:

  So numberless were those bad Angels seen

  Hovering on wing under the Cope of Hell 345

  ‘Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding Fires;

  Till, as a signal giv’n, th’ uplifted Spear

  Of thir great Sultan waving to direct

 

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