The Complete Poetry of John Milton (143 page)

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Authors: John Milton

Tags: #English; Irish; Scottish; Welsh, #Poetry, #European

BOOK: The Complete Poetry of John Milton
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375

   375     
What I foretell thee, soon thou shalt have cause

               
To wish thou never hadst rejected thus

               
Nicely or cautiously my offer’d aid,

               
Which would have set thee in short time with ease

               
On
David
’s Throne; or Throne of all the world,

380

   380     
Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season,

               
When Prophesies of thee are best fullfill’d.

               
Now contrary, if I read aught in Heav’n,

               
Or Heav’n write aught of Fate, by what the Stars

               
Voluminous, or single characters,

385

   385     
In their conjunction met, give me to spell,

               
Sorrows, and labours, opposition, hate,

               
Attends thee, scorns, reproaches, injuries,

               
Violence and stripes, and lastly cruel death.

               
A Kingdom they portend thee, but what Kingdom,

390

   390     
Real or Allegoric I discern not,

               
Now when, eternal sure, as without end,

               
Without beginning; for no date prefixt

               
Directs me in the Starry Rubric set.

           
      
       So saying he took (for still he knew his power

395

   395     
Not yet expir’d) and to the Wilderness

               
Brought back the Son of God, and left him there,

               
Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose,

               
As day-light sunk, and brought in lowring night

               
Her shadowy off-spring unsubstantial both,

400

   400     
Privation meer of light and absent day.

               
Our Saviour meek and with untroubl’d mind

               
After his aerie jaunt, though hurried sore,

               
Hungry and cold betook him to his rest,

               
Wherever, under some concourse of shades

405

   405     
Whose branching arms thick intertwin’d might shield

               
From dews and damps of night his shelter’d head,

               
But shelter’d slept in vain, for at his head

               
The Tempter watch’d, and soon with ugly dreams

               
Disturb’d his sleep; and either Tropic now

410

   410     
’Gan thunder, and both ends of Heav’n, the Clouds

               
From many a horrid rift abortive pour’d

               
Fierce rain with lightning mixt, water with fire

               
In ruin reconcil’d: nor slept the winds

               
Within thir stony caves, but rush’d abroad

415

   415     
From the four hinges of the world, and fell

               
On the vext Wilderness, whose tallest Pines,

               
Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest Oaks

               
Bow’d their Stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts,

               
Or torn up sheer: ill wast thou shrouded then,

420

   420     
O patient Son of God, yet only stoodst

               
Unshaken; nor yet staid the terror there,

               
Infernal Ghosts, and Hellish Furies, round

               
Environ’d thee, some howl’d, some yell’d, some shriek’d,

               
Some bent at thee thir fiery darts, while thou

425

   425     
Sat’st unappall’d in calm and sinless peace.

               
Thus pass’d the night so foul till morning fair

               
Came forth with Pilgrim steps in amice
41
gray;

               
Who with her radiant finger still’d the roar

               
Of thunder, chas’d the clouds, and laid the winds,

430

   430     
And grisly Spectres, which the Fiend had rais’d

               
To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire.

               
And now the Sun with more effectual beams

               
Had chear’d the face of Earth, and dry’d the wet

               
From drooping plant, or dropping tree; the birds

435

   435     
Who all things now behold more fresh and green,

               
After a night of storm so ruinous,

               
Clear’d up their choicest notes in bush and spray

               
To gratulate the sweet return of morn;

               
Nor yet amidst this joy and brightest morn

440

   440     
Was absent, after all his mischief done,

               
The Prince of darkness, glad would also seem

               
Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came,

               
Yet with no new device, they all were spent,

               
Rather by this his last affront resolv’d,

445

   445     
Desperate of better course, to vent his rage,

               
And mad despight to be so oft repell’d.

               
Him walking on a Sunny hill he found,

               
Back’d on the North and West by a thick wood,

               
Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape;

450

   450     
And in a careless mood thus to him said.

           
      
       Fair morning yet betides thee Son of God,

               
After a dismal night; I heard the rack

               
As Earth and Skie would mingle; but my self

               
Was distant; and these flaws, though mortals fear them

455

   455     
As dangerous to the pillard frame of Heav’n,

               
Or to the Earths dark basis underneath,

               
Are to the main
42
as inconsiderable,

               
And harmless, if not wholsom, as a sneeze
43

               
To mans less universe, and soon are gone;

460

   460     
Yet as being oft times noxious where they light

               
On man, beast, plant, wastful and turbulent,

               
Like turbulencies in th’ affairs of men,

               
Over whose heads they roar, and seem to point,

               
They oft fore-signifie and threaten ill:

465

   465     
This Tempest at this Desert most was bent;

               
Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell’st.

               
Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject

               
The perfet season offer’d with my aid

               
To win thy destin’d seat, but wilt prolong

470

   470     
All to the push of Fate, persue thy way

               
Of gaining
David
’s Throne no man knows when,

               
For both the when and how is no where told,

               
Thou shalt be what thou art ordain’d, no doubt;

               
For Angels have proclaim’d it, but concealing

475

   475     
The time and means: each act is rightliest done,

               
Not when it must, but when it may be best.

               
If thou observe not this, be sure to find,

               
What I foretold thee, many a hard assay

               
Of dangers, and adversities and pains,

480

   480     
E’re thou of
Israel
’s Scepter get fast hold;

               
Whereof this ominous night that clos’d thee round,

               
So many terrors, voices, prodigies

               
May warn thee, as a sure fore-going sign.

           
      
       So talk’d he, while the Son of God went on

485

   485     
And staid not, but in brief him answer’d thus.

           
      
       Mee worse then wet thou find’st not; other harm

               
Those terrors which thou speak’st of, did me none;

               
I never fear’d they could, though noising loud

               
And threatning nigh; what they can do as signs

490

   490     
Betok’ning, or ill boding, I contemn

               
As false portents, not sent from God, but thee;

               
Who knowing I shall raign past thy preventing,

               
Obtrud’st thy offer’d aid, that I accepting

               
At least might seem to hold all power of
44
thee,

495

   495     
Ambitious spirit, and wouldst be thought my God,

               
And storm’st refus’d, thinking to terrifie

               
Mee to thy will; desist, thou art discern’d

               
And toil’st in vain, nor me in vain molest.

           
      
       To whom the Fiend now swoln with rage reply’d:

500

   500     
Then hear, O Son of
David
, Virgin-born;

               
For Son of God to me is yet in doubt,

               
Of the Messiah I have heard foretold

               
By all the Prophets; of thy birth at length

               
Announc’t by
Gabriel
with the first I knew,

505

   505     
And of th’ Angelic Song in
Bethlehem
field,

               
On thy birth-night, that sung thee Saviour born.

               
From that time seldom have I ceas’d to eye

               
Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth,

               
Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred;

510

   510     
Till at the Ford of
Jordan
wither all

               
Flock’d to the Baptist, I among the rest,

               
Though not to be Baptiz’d,
45
by voice from Heav’n

               
Heard thee pronounc’d the Son of God belov’d.

               
Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view

515

   515     
And narrower Scrutiny, that I might learn

               
In what degree or meaning thou art call’d

               
The Son of God, which bears no single sence;

               
The Son of God I also am, or was,

               
And if I was, I am; relation stands;

520

   520     
All men are Sons of God; yet thee I thought

               
In some respect far higher so declar’d.

               
Therefore I watch’d thy footsteps from that hour,

               
And follow’d thee still on to this wast wild;

               
Where by all best conjectures I collect

525

   525     
Thou art to be my fatal enemy.

               
Good reason then, if I before-hand seek

               
To understand my Adversary,
46
who

               
And what he is; his wisdom, power, intent,

               
By parl, or composition, truce, or league

530

   530     
To win him, or win from him what I can.

               
And opportunity I here have had

               
To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee

               
Proof against all temptation as a rock

               
Of Adamant, and as a Center, firm;

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