At last he spreads his "sail-broad vans for flight," and, directed by Chaos and sable-vested Night, comes to where he can see far off
The empyreal Heaven, once his native seat, And, fast by, hanging in a golden chain, This pendent World.
III.—Satan Speeds to Earth
An invocation to Light, and a lament for the poet's blindness now preludes a picture of Heaven, and the Almighty Father conferring with the only Son.
Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven first-born! Bright effluence of bright essence uncreate! Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the Sun, Before the Heavens, thou wert, and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest The rising World of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless Infinite! ............................ But thou Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn. ............................ With the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But clouds instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off.
God, observing the approach of Satan to the world, foretells the fall of Man to the Son, who listens while
In his face Divine compassion visibly appeared, Love without end, and without measure grace.
The Father asks where such love can be found as will redeem man by satisfying eternal Justice.
He asked, but all the Heavenly Quire stood mute, And silence was in Heaven.