Of Man's first disobedience,
           and the fruit Of
             that forbidden tree
               whose mortal taste Brought death
                   into the World,
         and all our woe,
            With loss of Eden,
      till one greater
         Man Restore us,
           and regain the blissful seat,
          Sing,
           Heavenly Muse,
         that,
        on the secret
           top Of Oreb,
         or of Sinai,
           didst inspire That shepherd
             who first
                  taught the chosen
                       seed In the beginning
             how the heavens
                   and earth Rose
                 out of Chaos:
        or,
           if Sion hill Delight
               thee more,
         and Siloa's brook
             that flowed Fast
                   by the oracle of God,
           I thence Invoke thy aid
               to my adventurous song,
          That with no middle flight
         intends to soar Above
              th' Aonian mount,
           while it
            pursues Things unattempted yet
                   in prose or rhyme.

    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,
            Dove-like sat'st brooding
               on the vast Abyss,
          And mad'st it pregnant:
        what in me
            is dark Illumine,
           what is low
               raise and support;
         That,
           to the height
               of this great argument,
          I may assert Eternal Providence,
            And justify the ways
               of God to men.

    Say first
         --for Heaven
              hides nothing from thy view,
             Nor the deep
               tract of Hell--
           say first
             what cause Moved
                   our grand parents,
           in that happy state,
          Favoured of Heaven so highly,
           to fall
               off From their Creator,
         and transgress his
            will For one restraint,
           lords of the World besides.

    Who first seduced them to
         that foul revolt?

    Th' infernal Serpent;
        he it was whose guile,
            Stirred up
               with envy and revenge,
         deceived The mother of mankind,
           what time his pride Had
              cast him out from Heaven,
         with all his host Of
              rebel Angels,
           by whose aid,
         aspiring To
              set himself in glory
                   above his peers,
            He trusted
              to have equalled
                   the Most High,
          If he opposed,
           and with ambitious aim Against
               the throne
             and monarchy of God,
          Raised impious
              war in Heaven
                   and battle proud,
            With vain attempt.

  Him the Almighty Power
       Hurled headlong
          flaming from th' ethereal sky,
            With hideous ruin and combustion,
         down To bottomless perdition,
        there to dwell In
           adamantine chains
               and penal fire,
          Who durst
              defy th' Omnipotent to arms.

    Nine times the space
         that measures
               day and
                   night To mortal men,
           he,
         with his horrid crew,
            Lay vanquished,
         rolling in the fiery gulf,
            Confounded,
         though immortal.

    But his doom Reserved him
           to more wrath;
        for now the thought Both
               of lost happiness
             and lasting
               pain Torments him:
        round he throws
               his baleful eyes,
            That witnessed huge affliction
               and dismay,
          Mixed with obdurate pride
               and steadfast hate.

    At once,
           as far as Angels ken,
         he views
            The dismal situation
                  waste and wild.

    A dungeon horrible,
           on all sides round,
          As one great furnace flamed;
        yet from
               those flames No light;
     but rather darkness
        visible Served only
              to discover sights of woe,
            Regions of sorrow,
         doleful shades,
           where peace 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
                     unconsumed.

    Such place Eternal Justice
        has prepared For those rebellious;
           here their prison ordained In
              utter darkness,
           and their portion set,
          As far
              removed from God
                   and light of Heaven As
                 from the centre thrice
                       to th' utmost pole.

    Oh how unlike
           the place from
         whence they fell!

    There the companions
           of his fall,
         o'erwhelmed With floods
               and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,
          He soon discerns;
        and,
           weltering by his side,
          One next himself in power,
           and next in crime,
          Long after known in Palestine,