To whom thus Michael. These are the product
Of thofe ill-mated marriages thou faw'st;
Where good with bad were match'd, who of themselves
Abhor to join; and by imprudence mix'd,
Produce prodigious births of body' or mind.
Such were these giants, men of high renown;
For in those days might only shall be' admir'd,
And valor and heroic virtue call'd;
To overcome in battel, and subdue
Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite
Man-flaughter, shall be held the highest pitch
Of human glory, and for glory done
Of triumph, to be stil'd great conquerors,
Patrons of mankind, Gods, and fons of Gods,
Destroyers rightlier call'd and plagues of men.
Thus fame fhall be achiev'd, renown on earth,
And what moft merits fame in filence hid.
But he the fev'nth from thee, whom thou beheldst 700
The only righteous in a world perverse,
And therefore hated, therefore fo befet
With foes for daring fingle to be just,
And utter odious truth, that God would come
To judge them with his Saints: him the most High 705
Rapt in a balmy cloud with winged steeds
Did, as thou faw'ft, receive, to walk with God
High in falvation and the climes of bliss,
Exempt from death; to fhow thee what reward
Awaits the good, the rest what punishment;
Which now direct thine eyes and foon behold.
He look'd, and saw the face of things quite chang'd;
The brazen throat of war had ceas'd to roar;
All now was turn'd to jollity and game,
To luxury and riot, feast and dance,
Marrying or prostituting, as befel,
Rape or adultery, where paffing fair
Allur'd them; thence from cups to civil broils.
At length a reverend fire among them came,
And of their doings great dislike declar'd
And teftify'd against their ways; he oft
Frequented their affemblies, wherefo met,
Triumphs or feftivals, and to them preach'd
Converfion and repentance, as to fouls
In prison under judgments imminent:
But all in vain: which when he faw, he ceas'd
Contending, and remov'd his tents far off;
Then from the mountain hewing timber tall,
Began to build a veffel of huge bulk,
Measur'd by cubit, length, and breadth, and highth,
Smear'd round with pitch, and in the fide a door
Contriv'd, and of provifions laid in large
For man and beaft: when lo a wonder strange!
Of every beaft, and bird, and infect small
Came fev'ns, and pairs, and enter'd in, as taught 735
Their order: laft the fire, and his three fons
With their four wives; and God made faft the door.
Meanwhile the south-wind rose, and with black wings
Wide hovering, all the clouds together drove
From under Heav'n; the hills to their supply
Vapor, and exhalation dusk and moift,
Sent up amain; and now the thicken'd sky
Like a dark cieling ftood; down rush'd the rain
Impetuous, and continued till the earth
No more was feen; the floting veffel fwum
Uplifted, and fecure with beaked prow
Rode tilting o'er the waves; all dwellings elfe
Flood overwhelm'd, and them with all their pomp
Deep under water roll'd; fea cover'd sea,
Sea without fhore; and in their palaces
Where luxury late reign'd, fea-monsters whelp'd
And stabled; of mankind, so numerous late,
All left, in one fmall bottom fwum imbark'd.
How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold
The end of all thy offspring, end so fad,
Depopulation! thee another flood,
Of tears and forrow' a flood thee alfo drown'd,
And funk thee as thy fons; till gently rear'd
By th' Angel, on thy feet thou stood'st at last,
Though comfortless, as when a father mourns
His children, all in view destroy'd at once;
And scarce to th' Angel utter'dft thus thy plaint.
O vifions ill foreseen! better had I
Liv'd ignorant of future, fo had borne
My part of evil only, each day's lot
Enough to bear; those now, that were difpens'd
The burd'n of many ages, on me light
At once, by my foreknowledge gaining birth
Abortive, to torment me ere their being,
With thought that they must be. Let no man feek
Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall
Him or his children; evil he may be fure,
Which neither his foreknowing can prevent,
And he the future evil fhall no lefs
In apprehenfion than in substance feel
Grievous to bear: but that care now is past,
Man is not whom to warn : those few escap'd
Famin and anguish will at last confume
Wand'ring that watry defert: I had hope
When violence was ceas'd, and war on earth,
All would have then gone well, peace would have crown'd
With length of happy days the race of man;
But I was far deceiv'd; for now I fee
Peace to corrupt no less than war to waste.
How comes it thus ? unfold, celeftial Guide,
And whether here the race of man will end.
To whom thus Michael. Those whom last thou faw'ft In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they
First seen in acts of prowess eminent
And great exploits, but of true virtue void;
Who having spilt much blood, and done much waste,
Subduing nations, and achiev'd thereby
Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey,
Shall change their courfe to pleasure, eafe, and floth,
Surfeit, and luft, till wantonnefs and pride
Raife out of friendship hoftile deeds in peace.
The conquer'd also, and inflav'd by war,
Shall with their freedom loft all virtue lofe
And fear of God, from whom their piety feign'd
In fharp conteft of battel found no aid
Against invaders; therefore cool'd in zeal
Thenceforth fhall practice how to live fecure,
Worldly or diffolute, on what their lords
Shall leave them to enjoy; for th' earth shall bear
More than enough, that temp'rance may be try'd:
So all fhall turn degenerate, all deprav'd,
Justice and temp'rance, truth and faith forgot ;
One man except, the only fon of light
In a dark age, against example good,
Against allurement, cuftom, and a world
Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn,
Or violence, he of their wicked ways
Shall them admonish, and before them fet
The paths of righteousness, how much more fafe,
And full of peace, denouncing wrath to come
On their impenitence; and fhall return
Of them derided, but of God obferv'd
The one just man alive; by his command
Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheldft,
To fave himfelf and houfhold from amidft
A world devote to univerfal wrack.
No fooner he with them of man and beast
Select for life shall in the ark be lodg'd,
And fhelter'd round, but all the cataracts
Of Heav'n fet open on the earth shall pour
Rain day and night; all fountains of the deep
Broke up, fhall heave the ocean to ufurp
Beyond all bounds, till inundation rife
Above the highest hills: then shall this mount
Of Paradise by might of waves be mov'd
Out of his place, pufh'd by the horned flood,
With all his verdure spoil'd, and trees adrift,
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