Poem 2

perish rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated Night, Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows, Let this be good, whether our angry foe Can give it, or will ever? How he can Is doubtful; that he never will is sure. Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, Belike through impotence, or unaware, To give his enemies their wish, and end Them in his anger, whom his anger saves To punish endless? ‘Wherefore cease we then?’ Say they who counsel war; ‘we are decreed, Reserved and destined to eternal woe; Whatever doing, what can we suffer more, What can we suffer worse?’ Is this then worst, Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms? What when we fled amain, pursued and strook With Heaven’s afflicting thunder, and besought The deep to shelter us? this Hell then seemed A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay Chained on the burning lake? that sure was worse. What if the breath that kindled those grim fires Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage, And plunge us in the flames? or from above Should intermitted vengeance arm again His red right hand to plague us? What if all Her stores were opened, and this firmament Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall One day upon our heads; while we perhaps, Designing or exhorting glorious war, Caught in a fiery tempest shall be hurled, Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains; There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, Ages of hopeless end! This would be worse. War therefore, open or concealed, alike My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye Views all things at one view? He from Heaven’s highth All these our motions vain sees and derides, Not more almighty to resist our might Then wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heaven Thus trampled, thus expelled to suffer here Chains and these torments? Better these than worse, By my advice; since fate inevitable Subdues us, and omnipotent decree, The victor’s will. To suffer, as to do, Our strength is equal, nor the law unjust That so ordains: this was at first resolved, If we