LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

And of thir doings great dislike declar’d,

       And testifi’d against thir wayes; hee oft

       Frequented thir Assemblies, whereso met,

       Triumphs or Festivals, and to them preachd

       Conversion and Repentance, as to Souls

       In prison under Judgements imminent:

       But all in vain: which when he saw, he ceas’d

       Contending, and remov’d his Tents farr off;

       Then from the Mountain hewing Timber tall,

       Began to build a Vessel of huge bulk,

       Measur’d by Cubit, length, & breadth, and highth,

       Smeard round with Pitch, and in the side a dore

       Contriv’d, and of provisions laid in large

       For Man and Beast: when loe a wonder strange!

       Of everie Beast, and Bird, and Insect small

       Came seavens, and pairs, and enterd in, as taught

       Thir order; last the Sire, and his three Sons

       With thir four Wives, and God made fast the dore.

       Meanwhile the Southwind rose, & with black wings

       Wide hovering, all the Clouds together drove

       From under Heav’n; the Hills to their supplie

       Vapour, and Exhalation dusk and moist,

       Sent up amain; and now the thick’nd Skie

       Like a dark Ceeling stood; down rush’d the Rain

       Impetuous, and continu’d till the Earth

       No more was seen; the floating Vessel swum

       Uplifted; and secure with beaked prow

       Rode tilting o’re the Waves, all dwellings else

       Flood overwhelmd, and them with all thir pomp

       Deep under water rould; Sea cover’d Sea,

       Sea without shoar; and in thir Palaces

       Where luxurie late reign’d, Sea-monsters whelp’d

       And stabl’d; of Mankind, so numerous late,

       All left, in one small bottom swum imbark’t.

       How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold The end of all thy Ofspring, end so sad, Depopulation; thee another Floud, Of tears and sorrow a Floud thee also drown’d, And sunk thee as thy Sons; till gently reard By th’ Angel, on thy feet thou stoodst at last, Though comfortless, as when a Father mourns His Childern, all in view destroyd at once; And scarce to th’ Angel utterdst thus thy plaint.

      O Visions ill foreseen! better had I

       Liv’d ignorant of future, so had borne

       My part of evil onely, each dayes lot

       Anough to bear; those now, that were dispenst

       The burd’n of many Ages, on me light

       At once, by my foreknowledge gaining Birth

       Abortive, to torment me ere thir being,

       With thought that they must be. Let no man seek

       Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall

       Him or his Childern, evil he may be sure,

       Which neither his foreknowing can prevent,

       And hee the future evil shall no less

       In apprehension then in substance feel

       Grievous to bear: but that care now is past,

       Man is not whom to warne: those few escap’t

       Famin and anguish will at last consume

       Wandring that watrie Desert: I had hope

       When violence was ceas’t, and Warr on Earth,

       All would have then gon well, peace would have crownd

       With length of happy days the race of man;

       But I was farr deceav’d; for now I see

       Peace to corrupt no less then Warr to waste.

       How comes it thus? unfould, Celestial Guide,

       And whether here the Race of man will end.

       To whom thus Michael. Those whom last thou sawst In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they First seen in acts of prowess eminent And great exploits, but of true vertu void; Who having spilt much blood, and don much waste Subduing Nations, and achievd thereby Fame in the World, high titles, and rich prey, Shall change thir course to pleasure, ease, and sloth, Surfet, and lust, till wantonness and pride Raise out of friendship hostil deeds in Peace. The conquerd also, and enslav’d by Warr Shall with thir freedom lost all vertu loose And feare of God, from whom thir pietie feign’d In sharp contest of Battel found no aide Against invaders; therefore coold in zeale Thenceforth shall practice how to live secure, Worldlie or dissolute, on what thir Lords Shall leave them to enjoy; for th’ Earth shall bear More then anough, that temperance may be tri’d: So all shall turn degenerate, all deprav’d, Justice and Temperance, Truth and Faith forgot; One Man except, the onely Son of light In a dark Age, against example good, Against allurement, custom, and a World Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn, Or violence, hee of thir wicked wayes Shall them admonish, and before them set The paths of righteousness, how much more safe, And full of peace, denouncing wrauth to come On thir impenitence; and shall returne Of them derided, but of God observd The one just Man alive; by his command Shall build a wondrous Ark, as thou beheldst, To save himself and houshold from amidst A World devote to universal rack. No sooner hee with them of Man and Beast Select for life shall in the Ark be lodg’d, And shelterd round, but all the Cataracts Of Heav’n set open on the Earth shall powre Raine day and night, all fountaines of the Deep Broke up, shall heave the Ocean to usurp Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise Above the highest Hills: then shall this Mount Of Paradise by might of Waves be moovd Out of his place, pushd by the horned floud, With all his verdure spoil’d, and Trees adrift Down the great River to the op’ning Gulf, And there take root an Iland salt and bare, The haunt of Seales and Orcs, and Sea-mews clang. To teach thee that God attributes to place No sanctitie, if none be thither brought By Men who there frequent, or therein dwell. And now what further shall ensue, behold.

      He lookd, and saw the Ark hull on the floud,

       Which now abated, for the Clouds were fled,

       Drivn by a keen North-winde, that blowing drie

       Wrinkl’d the face of Deluge, as decai’d;

       And the cleer Sun on his wide watrie Glass

       Gaz’d hot, and of the fresh Wave largely drew,

       As after thirst, which made thir flowing shrink

       From standing lake to tripping ebbe, that stole

       With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopt

       His Sluces, as the Heav’n his windows shut.

       The Ark no more now flotes, but seems on ground

       Fast on the top of som high mountain fixt.

       And now the tops of Hills as Rocks appeer;

       With clamor thence the rapid Currents drive

       Towards the retreating Sea thir furious tyde.

       Forthwith from out the Arke a Raven flies,

       And after him, the surer messenger,

       A Dove sent forth once and agen to spie

       Green Tree or ground whereon his foot may light;

       The second time returning, in his Bill

       An Olive leafe he brings, pacific signe:

       Anon drie ground appeers, and from his Arke

       The ancient Sire descends

Скачать книгу