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Book 2.
Paradiſe loſt.
Our Supream Foe in time may much remit 210
His anger, and perhaps thus farr remov’d
Not mind us not offending, ſatiſfi’d
With what is puniſh’t; whence theſe raging fires
Will ſlack’n, if his breath ſtir not thir flames.
Our purer eſſence then will overcome
Thir noxious vapour, or enur’d not feel,
Or chang’d at length, and to the place conformd
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;
This horror will grow milde, this darkneſs light, 220
Beſides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting, ſince our preſent lot appeers
For happy though but ill, for ill not worſt,
If we procure not to our ſelves more woe.
Thus Belial with words cloath’d in reaſons garb
Counſel’d ignoble eaſe, and peaceful ſloath,
Not peace: and after him thus Mammon ſpake.
Either to diſinthrone the King of Heav’n
We warr, if warr be beſt, or to regain 230
Our own right loſt: him to unthrone we then
May hope, when everlaſting Fate ſhall yeild
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the ſtrife:
The former vain to hope argues as vain
The latter: for what place can be for us
Within Heav’ns bound, unleſs Heav’ns Lord ſupream
We overpower? Suppoſe he ſhould relent
And publiſh Grace to all, on promiſe made
Of new Subjection; with what eyes could we
Stand in his preſence humble, and receive 240
Strict Laws impos’d, to celebrate his Throne
His anger, and perhaps thus farr remov’d
Not mind us not offending, ſatiſfi’d
With what is puniſh’t; whence theſe raging fires
Will ſlack’n, if his breath ſtir not thir flames.
Our purer eſſence then will overcome
Thir noxious vapour, or enur’d not feel,
Or chang’d at length, and to the place conformd
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;
This horror will grow milde, this darkneſs light, 220
Beſides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting, ſince our preſent lot appeers
For happy though but ill, for ill not worſt,
If we procure not to our ſelves more woe.
Thus Belial with words cloath’d in reaſons garb
Counſel’d ignoble eaſe, and peaceful ſloath,
Not peace: and after him thus Mammon ſpake.
Either to diſinthrone the King of Heav’n
We warr, if warr be beſt, or to regain 230
Our own right loſt: him to unthrone we then
May hope, when everlaſting Fate ſhall yeild
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the ſtrife:
The former vain to hope argues as vain
The latter: for what place can be for us
Within Heav’ns bound, unleſs Heav’ns Lord ſupream
We overpower? Suppoſe he ſhould relent
And publiſh Grace to all, on promiſe made
Of new Subjection; with what eyes could we
Stand in his preſence humble, and receive 240
Strict Laws impos’d, to celebrate his Throne
With
