Manuscript of Book I, in the hand of an amanuensis, ca. 1665.
Purchased by Pierpont Morgan, 1904
Of dauntless valour, and considerate pride
Waiting revenge: cruell his eye, but cast
Signes of remorse and passion to behold
The fellows of his crime, the followers rather
(Farr other once beheld in bliss) condemn'd
For ever now to have thir lot in pain,
[Mi]llions of spirits for his fault amerc'd
Of Heav'n, and from eternal splendors flung
For his revolt, yet faithfull how they stood,
Thir glory witherd. As when Heavens fire
Hath scath'd the forrest oakes, or mountain pines,
With singed top thir stately growth though bare
Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepar'd
To speak; where-at their doubl'd ranks they bend
From wing to wing, and halfe inclose him round
With all his peeres: attention held them mute.
Thrice he assay'd, and thrice in spite of scorn,
Tears such as angels weepe, burst forth: at last
Words interwove with sighs found out thir way.
O Myriads of immortall spirits, o powers
Matchless, but with th' Almighty, and that strife
Was not inglorious, though th' event was dire,
As this place testifies, and this dire change
Hatefull to utter: but what powre of mind
Foreseeing or presaging, from the Depth
Paradise Lost. Manuscript of Book I, in the hand of an amanuensis, ca. 1665.