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 proftituting, 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 testify'd against their ways; he oft
Frequented their affemblies, whereso met,
Triumphs or festivals, and to them preach'd
Conversion and repentance, as to fouls
In prifon 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 provisions laid in large
For man and beaft: when lo a wonder strange!
Of every beast, 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 fouth-wind rofe, 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 moist,
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 else
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 ftabled; of mankind, fo numerous late,
All left, in one small bottom fwum imbark'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 forrow' a flood thee also 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 forefeen! 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 dispens'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 seek
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 less
In apprehension 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 desert: 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 lefs 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 faw'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 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 course to pleasure, ease, and sloth,
Surfeit, and luft, till wantonness and pride
Raife out of friendship hostile 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 secure,
Worldly or diffolute, on what their lords
Shall leave them to enjoy; for th' earth fhall bear
More than enough, that temp'rance may be try’d:
So all fhall turn degenerate, all deprav'd,
Juftice 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 righteoufnefs, 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 juft man alive; by his command
Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheldft,
To fave himself and houtfhold from amidst
A world devote to univerfal wrack.
No fooner he with them of man and beast
Select for life fhall in the ark be lodg'd,
And fhelter'd round, but all the cataracts
Of Heav'n fet open on the earth fhall 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 Paradife by might of waves be mov'd
Out of his place, pufh'd by the horned flood,
With all his verdure fpoil'd, and trees adrift,
Down the great river to the op'ning gulf,
And there take root an iland falt and bare,
The haunt of feals, and orcs, and fea-mews clang: 835
To teach thee that God attributes to place
No fanctity, if none be thither brought
By men who there frequent, or therein dwell.
And now what further shall enfue, behold.
He look'd, and faw the ark hull on the flood, 840 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 fun on his wide watry glass Gaz'd hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew, As after thirst, which made their flowing shrink From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stole With foft foot tow'ards the deep, who now had stopt His fluces, as the Heav'n his windows fhut. The ark no more now flotes, but seems on ground Faft on the top of fome high mountain fix'd. And now the tops of hills as rocks appear; With clamor thence the rapid currents drive Tow'ards the retreating sea their furious tide. Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies, And after him, the furer meffenger,
A dove fent forth once and again to spy
Green tree or ground whereon his foot may light;
The fecond time returning, in his bill
An olive leaf he brings, pacific sign :
Anon dry ground appears, and from his ark
The ancient fire defcends with all his train;
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