Subduing nations, and achiev'd thereby
Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey,
Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and

sloth,

795

800

Surfeit, and lust, till wantonness and pride
Raise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace.
The conquer'd also and enslav'd by war
Shall with their freedom lost all virtue lose
And fear of God, from whom their piety feign'd
In sharp contest of battel 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 th' earth shall bear
More than enough, that temperance may be try'd :
So all shall turn degenerate, all deprav'd,
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 815
On their impenitence; and shall return
Of them derided, but of God observ'd
The one just man alive; by his command

A17 observ'd] Observations honoured. C. J.

810

Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheld'st,
To save nimself 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 lodg'd,
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

820

825

Above the highest hills: then shall this mount
Of paradise by might of waves be mov'd
Out of his place, push'd by the horned flood,
With all his verdure spoil'd, and trees adrift,
Down the great river to the op'ning gulf,

830

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.

839

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 Gaz'd hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew, 845 As after thirst, which made their flowing shrink From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stole 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;

852

840 hull] v. Donne's Poems, p. 316. xxxi. A great ship overset, or without saile hulling.' Queen Elizabeth's Tear, by C. Lever, 1607, 4to. F. 2. 'Hulling upon the river where she lay.' Sandy's Psalms, p. 181. The ship hulls, as the billows flow.'

847

tripping] Drayton applies this word to the flow of rivers: Polyolb. Song xiii. 'The Avon trips along.' xv. 'The Isis from her source comes tripping with delight; and xxvi. Darwin from her fount comes tripping down towards Trent.' Todd.

848 soft foot] See Drakenborch's Note on Sil. Italicus, vi 140. p. 298. Lucret. v. 274. 'Liquido pede,' with Wakefield's Note, and Jer. Taylor's Sermon on Lady Carbery, fol. p. 169.

852 tops] Backs. vii. 206. Bentl. MS.

With clamour thence the rapid currents drive
Towards the retreating sea their furious tide.

Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies,

855

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:

860

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 rejoic'd, and thus his joy broke forth.

855

O thou, who future things canst represent 876 As present, heav'nly instructor, I revive At this last sight, assur'd 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

875

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 appeas'd?

880

Or serve they as a flow'ry verge to bind

880 brow] Fenton proposed to read 'The bow of God."

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

885

To whom th' archangel. Dextrously thou aim'st; So willingly doth God remit his ire, Though late repenting him of man deprav'd, Griev'd at his heart, when looking down he saw The whole earth fill'd with violence, and all flesh Corrupting each their way; yet, those remov'd, 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 His triple-colour'd bow, whereon to look, And call to mind his cov'nant: day and night, Seed-time and harvest, heat and hoary frost, Shall hold their course, till fire purge all things new. Both heav'n and earth, wherein the just shall dwell.

886 late] Fenton placed a comma after 'late, but Bentley removed it, and gave the line agreeably to Milton's own editions.