And therefore hated, therefore so beset
With foes for daring single to be just,

And utter odious truth, that God would come

1

To judge them with his saints; him the most High
Wrapt in a balmy cloud with winged steeds
Did, as thou saw'st, receive, to walk with God
High in salvation and the climes of bliss,
Exempt from death: to show thee what reward
Awaits the good, the rest what punishment:bo
Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold:

He look'd, and saw the face of things quite changed,
The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar;
All now was turn'd to jollity and game,
To luxury and riot, feast and dance,
Marrying or prostituting as befell,
Rape or adultery, where passing fair

Allured them; thence from cups to civil broils.
At length a reverend sire1 among them came,
And of their doings great dislike declared,
And testified against their ways; he oft
Frequented their assemblies, whereso met
Triumphs, or festivals, and to them preach'd
Conversion and repentance, as to souls
In prison under judgments imminent:
But all in vain: which when he saw, he ceased
Contending, and removed his tents far off: 2
Then from the mountain hewing timber tall,
Began to build a vessel of huge bulk,

Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and highth,
Smear'd round with pitch, and in the side a door
Contrived, and of provisions laid in large
For man and beast: when lo, a wonder strange!
Of every beast, and bird, and insect small,
Came sevens, and pairs, and enter'd in, as taught
Their order: last the sire and his three sons

With their four wives; and God made fast the door.
Meanwhile the south wind rose, and, with black wings

1 Noah. See 1 Peter iii. 19.

2 Noah's removal to another land is

taken from Josephus. Antiq. Jud. lib. i. c. 3.

Wide hovering, all the clouds together drove
From under heav'n; the hills to their supply
Vapour, and exhalation dusk and moist

Sent up amain: and now the thicken'd sky
Like a dark ceiling stood; down rush'd the rain
Impetuous, and continued till the earth
No more was seen; the floating vessel swum
Uplifted; and secure with beakèd prow
Rode tilting o'er the waves, all dwellings else
Flood overwhelm'd, and them with all their pomp
Deep under water roll'd; sea cover'd sea,
Sea without shore, and in their palaces,
Where luxury late reign'd, sea-monsters whelp'd
And stabled; of mankind, so numerous late,
All left in one small bottom swum embark'd.
How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold
The end of all thy offspring, end so sad,
Depopulation! thee another flood,

Of tears and sorrow a flood thee also drown'd,
And sunk thee as thy sons; till gently rear'd
By the 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 the angel utter'dst thus thy plaint.
O visions ill foreseen! better had I

Lived ignorant of future, so had borne
My part of evil only, each day's lot

Enough to bear; those now, that were dispensed
The burden 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 seek
Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall

Him or his children; evil he may be sure,
Which neither his foreknowing can prevent;
And he the future evil shall no less
In apprehension than in substance feel,
Grievous to bear: but that care now is past,
Man is not whom to warn; those few escaped
Famine and anguish will at last consume

Wand'ring that wat'ry desert. I had hope,
When violence was ceased, 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 deceived; for now I see
Peace to corrupt no less than war to waste.
How comes it thus unfold, celestial guide,
And whether here the race of man will end.

To whom thus Michael. Those whom last thou saw'st

In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they

First seen in acts of prowess eminent

And great exploits, but of true virtue void;

Who having spill'd much blood, and done much waste,
Subduing nations, and achieved thereby.

Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey,

Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and sloth,
Surfeit, and lust, till wantonness and pride
Raise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace.

The conquer'd also and enslaved by war
Shall with their freedom lost all virtue lose
And fear of God, from whom their piety feign'd
In sharp contest of battle found no aid
Against invaders; therefore cool'd in zeal
Thenceforth shall practise how to live secure,
Worldly, or dissolute, on what their lords

Shall leave them to enjoy, for the earth shall bear
More than enough, that temperance may be tried:
So all shall turn degenerate, all depraved,
Justice and temperance, truth and faith forgot;
One man except, the only son of light
In a dark age, against example good,
Against allurement, custom, and a world
Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn,
Or violence, he of their wicked ways
Shall them admonish, and before them set
The paths of righteousness, how much more safe
And full of peace, denouncing wrath to come
On their impenitence; and shall return
Of them derided, but of God observed
The one just man alive; by his command

Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheld'st,
To save himself and household from amidst
A world devote to universal wreck.

No sooner he with them of man and beast
Select for life shall in the ark be lodged
And shelter'd round, but all the cataracts
Of heav'n set open on the earth shall pour
Rain day and night, all fountains of the deep
Broke up shall heave the ocean to usurp
Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise
Above the highest hills: then shall this mount
Of Paradise by might of waves be moved
Out of his place, push'd by the hornèd flood,
With all his verdure spoil'd, and trees adrift,
Down the great river to the op'ning gulf,
And there take root, an island salt and bare,
The haunt of seals, and orcs, and sea-mews' clang;
To teach thee that God attributes to place
No sanctity, if none be thither brought
By men who there frequent, or therein dwell.
And now what further shall ensue, behold.

He look'd, and saw the ark hull on the flood,
Which now abated, for the clouds were fled,
Driv'n by a keen north-wind, that blowing dry
Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decay'd;
And the clear sun on his wide wat❜ry glass
Gazed hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew,
As after thirst, which made their flowing shrink
From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stǝle
With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopp'd
His sluices, as the heav'n his windows shut.
The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground
Fast on the top of some high mountain fix'd.
And now the tops of hills as rocks appear;
With clamour thence the rapid currents drive
Towards the retreating sea their furious tide.
Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies,
And after him, the surer messenger,
A dove, sent forth once and again to spy
Green tree or ground whereon his foot may light;

The second time returning, in his bill
An olive leaf he brings, pacific sign:

Anon dry ground appears, and from his ark
The ancient sire descends with all his train;
Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout,
Grateful to heav'n, over his head beholds
A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow
Conspicuous with three listed colours gay,
Betok'ning peace from GOD, and cov'nant new.
Whereat the heart of Adam erst so sad
Greatly rejoiced, and thus his joy broke forth.
O thou, who future things canst represent
As present, heav'nly instructor, I revive
At this last sight, assured that man shall live
With all the creatures, and their seed preserve.
Far less I now lament for one whole world
Of wicked sons destroy'd, than I rejoice
For one man found so perfect and so just,
That GOD vouchsafes to raise another world
From him, and all his anger to forget.

But say, what mean those colour'd streaks in heav'n,
Distended as the brow of GOD appeased?

Or serve they as a flow'ry verge to bind

The fluid skirts of that same wat❜ry cloud
Lest it again dissolve and show'r the earth?

To whom the archangel. Dext'rously thou aim'st; So willingly doth GOD remit His ire,

Though late repenting Him of man depraved,
Grieved at His heart, when looking down He saw
The whole earth fill'd with violence, and all flesh
Corrupting each their way; yet, those removed,
Such grace shall one just man find in His sight,
That He relents, not to blot out mankind,
And makes a covenant never to destroy
The earth again by flood, nor let the sea
Surpass his bounds, nor rain to drown the world
With man therein or beast; but when he brings
Over the earth a cloud, will therein set