Thy power! what thought can measure thee, or tongue

Relate thee! Greater now in thy return

Than from the giant Angels: Thee that day

Thy thunders magnified; but to create

Is greater than created to destroy.

Who can impair thee, Mighty King, or bound

Thy empire! Easily the proud attempt

Of Spirits apostate, and their counsels vain,

Thou hast repelled; while impiously they thought

Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw

The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks

To lessen thee, against his purpose serves

To manifest the more thy might: his evil

Thou usest, and from thence createst more good.

Witness this new-made world, another Heaven

From Heaven-gate not far, founded in view

On the clear hyaline, the glassy sea;

Of amplitude almost immense, with stars

Numerous, and every star perhaps a world

Of destined habitation; but thou knowest

Their seasons: among these the seat of Men,

Earth, with her nether ocean circumfused,

Their pleasant dwelling-place. Thrice happy Men,

And sons of Men, whom God hath thus advanced!

Created in his image, there to dwell

And worship him; and in reward to rule

Over his works, on earth, in sea, or air,

And multiply a race of worshippers

Holy and just: Thrice happy, if they know

Their happiness, and persevere upright!’

So sung they, and the empyrean rung

With halleluiahs: Thus was sabbath kept.

And thy request think now fulfilled, that asked

How first this world and face of things began,

And what before thy memory was done

From the beginning; that posterity,

Informed by thee, might know: If else thou seekest

Aught, not surpassing human measure, say.”

BOOK VIII

The Angel ended, and in Adam’s ear

So charming left his voice, that he a while

Thought him still speaking, still stood fixed to hear;

Then, as new waked, thus gratefully replied.

“What thanks sufficient, or what recompence

Equal, have I to render thee, divine

Historian, who thus largely hast allayed

The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsafed

This friendly condescension to relate

Things, else by me unsearchable; now heard

With wonder, but delight, and, as is due,

With glory attributed to the high

Creator! Something yet of doubt remains,

Which only thy solution can resolve.

When I behold this goodly frame, this world,

Of Heaven and Earth consisting; and compute

Their magnitudes; this Earth, a spot, a grain,

An atom, with the firmament compared

And all her numbered stars, that seem to roll

Spaces incomprehensible, (for such

Their distance argues, and their swift return

Diurnal,) merely to officiate light

Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot,

One day and night; in all her vast survey

Useless besides; reasoning I oft admire,

How Nature wise and frugal could commit

Such disproportions, with superfluous hand

So many nobler bodies to create,

Greater so manifold, to this one use,

For aught appears, and on their orbs impose

Such restless revolution day by day

Repeated; while the sedentary Earth,

That better might with far less compass move,