Folio 8r

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John Milton

Paradise Lost.

Manuscript of Book I, in the hand of an amanuensis, ca. 1665.

Purchased by Pierpont Morgan, 1904

MA 307

Hung on his shoulders like the moon whose orb
Through optick glasse the Tuscan Artist views
At evening from the top of Fesole,
Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands,
Rivers or Mountaines in her spotty globe.
His speare, to equall which the tallest pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast
Of some great Ammirall, were but a wand,
He walkt with, to support uneasy steps
Over the burning Marle, not like those steps
On Heavens azure; and the torrid clime
Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire;
Nathlesse hee so endur'd, till on the beach
Of that inflamed sea, hee stood and calld
His legions, Angell form's, who lay intrans't
Thick as Autumnall leaves that strow the brooks
In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades
High overarch't imbowre: or scatterd sedge
Afloat when with fierce winds Orion arm'd
Hath vext the red-sea coast, whose waves orethrew
Busiris and his Memphian chivalry
While with perfidious hatred they persu'd
The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld
From the safe shore thir floating carcasses