Джон Мильтон

Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained


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easily destroyed, and still destroys

      In those who, when they may, accept not grace.

      Nor shalt thou, by descending to assume

      Man’s nature, lessen or degrade thine own.

      Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss

      Equal to God, and equally enjoying

      God-like fruition, quitted all, to save

      A world from utter loss, and hast been found

      By merit more than birthright Son of God,

      Found worthiest to be so by being good,

      Far more than great or high; because in thee

      Love hath abounded more than glory abounds;

      Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt

      With thee thy manhood also to this throne:

      Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign

      Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man,

      Anointed universal King; all power

      I give thee; reign for ever, and assume

      Thy merits; under thee, as head supreme,

      Thrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions, I reduce:

      All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide

      In Heaven, or Earth, or under Earth in Hell.

      When thou, attended gloriously from Heaven,

      Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send

      The summoning Arch-Angels to proclaim

      Thy dread tribunal; forthwith from all winds,

      The living, and forthwith the cited dead

      Of all past ages, to the general doom

      Shall hasten; such a peal shall rouse their sleep.

      Then, all thy saints assembled, thou shalt judge

      Bad Men and Angels; they, arraigned, shall sink

      Beneath thy sentence; Hell, her numbers full,

      Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Meanwhile

      The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring

      New Heaven and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell,

      And, after all their tribulations long,

      See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds,

      With joy and peace triumphing, and fair truth.

      Then thou thy regal scepter shalt lay by,

      For regal scepter then no more shall need,

      God shall be all in all. But, all ye Gods,

      Adore him, who to compass all this dies;

      Adore the Son, and honour him as me.”

      No sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all

      The multitude of Angels, with a shout

      Loud as from numbers without number, sweet

      As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heaven rung

      With jubilee, and loud Hosannas filled

      The eternal regions: Lowly reverent

      Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground

      With solemn adoration down they cast

      Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold;

      Immortal amarant, a flower which once

      In Paradise, fast by the tree of life,

      Began to bloom; but soon for man’s offence

      To Heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows,

      And flowers aloft shading the fount of life,

      And where the river of bliss through midst of Heaven

      Rolls o’er Elysian flowers her amber stream;

      With these that never fade the Spirits elect

      Bind their resplendent locks inwreathed with beams;

      Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright

      Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone,

      Impurpled with celestial roses smiled.

      Then, crowned again, their golden harps they took,

      Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side

      Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet

      Of charming symphony they introduce

      Their sacred song, and waken raptures high;

      No voice exempt, no voice but well could join

      Melodious part, such concord is in Heaven.

      Thee, Father, first they sung Omnipotent,

      Immutable, Immortal, Infinite,

      Eternal King; the Author of all being,

      Fountain of light, thyself invisible

      Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sit’st

      Throned inaccessible, but when thou shadest

      The full blaze of thy beams, and, through a cloud

      Drawn round about thee like a radiant shrine,

      Dark with excessive bright thy skirts appear,

      Yet dazzle Heaven, that brightest Seraphim

      Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes.

      Thee next they sang of all creation first,

      Begotten Son, Divine Similitude,

      In whose conspicuous countenance, without cloud

      Made visible, the Almighty Father shines,

      Whom else no creature can behold; on thee

      Impressed the effulgence of his glory abides,

      Transfused on thee his ample Spirit rests.

      He Heaven of Heavens and all the Powers therein

      By thee created; and by thee threw down

      The aspiring Dominations: Thou that day

      Thy Father’s dreadful thunder didst not spare,

      Nor stop thy flaming chariot-wheels, that shook

      Heaven’s everlasting frame, while o’er the necks

      Thou drovest of warring Angels disarrayed.

      Back from pursuit thy Powers with loud acclaim

      Thee only extolled, Son of thy Father’s might,

      To execute fierce vengeance on his foes,

      Not so on Man: Him through their malice fallen,

      Father of mercy and grace, thou didst not doom

      So strictly, but much more to pity incline:

      No sooner did thy dear and only Son

      Perceive thee purposed not to doom frail Man

      So strictly, but much more to pity inclined,

      He to appease thy wrath, and end the strife

      Of mercy and justice in thy face discerned,

      Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat

      Second to thee, offered himself to die

      For Man’s offence. O unexampled love,

      Love