Calvary: or the death of Christ. A poem, in eight books. By Richard Cumberland.

CALVARY; OR THE DEATH OF CHRIST.

BOOK VII.

THE ARGUMENT OF THE SEVENTH BOOK.

This Book opens with the scene of Mount Calvary at the coming on of evening; Christ still hanging dead upon the cross, the disciples standing apart and the holy women watching, amongst whom is the Blessed Virgin supported by St. John, Christ having bequeathed her to his care: His address to her on this subject, and her reply. The soldiers come and break the legs of the two malefactors, but finding Christ already dead, they pierce his heart with a spear and blood and water issues from the wound: They take him down from the cross and lay him in the sepulchre. His spirit in the meanwhile is conveyed by the angels into the region of Death; that region described, and the distant pro|spect of the bottomless pit, where the souls of the wicked are in torment: Christ points out these scenes to Gabriel and instructs him as to the future objects of his descent into this gloomy region. Satan expelled from earth falls prostrate at the foot of the throne of Death: He makes suit to that power for protection: Death rejects his intercessions: The per|son and palace of the King of Terrors described: The triumphant entry of Christ: Satan is hurled into the bottomless pit and there bound by the strong angel; the horrors of that dreadful abode are represented: Death humbles himself before the Redeemer of mankind, and conscious that his power is overthrown, tenders his crown to Christ as to his conqueror: He lays the key at his feet, which sets free the souls of the Saints, who are destined to be partakers of the first resurrection: This key is given to Gabriel with instructions for their release: Christ in his reply to Death forewarns him of his doom, but signifies to him that the dissolution of his power will not be immediate. The approach of the Saints concludes the Book.

CALVARY. BOOK VII. THE DESCENT INTO HELL.

NOW Hesperus renew'd his evening lamp And hung it forth amid the turbid sky To mark the close of this portentous day: The lab'ring sun, in his mid-course eclips'd, Darkling at length had reach'd his western goal; [ 5] And now it seem'd as if all Nature slept O'erspent and wearied with convulsive throes. Upon his cross the martyr'd Savior hung; Pale through the twilight gleam'd his breathless corpse And silvery white, as when the moon-beam plays [ 10] On the smooth surface of the glassy lake; His thorn-crown'd head upon his breast reclin'd; His arms were wide out-spread, as if in act To' embrace and welcome the converted world: So were they late expanded, when he cried— [ 15]

Come all ye heavy laden, come to me, And I will give you rest! Death had not dar'd To rob those features of one heav'nly grace, Nor had the worm authority to taint That incorruptible and hallow'd shrine, [ 20] Wherein his purity had deign'd to dwell. The living saints here mingling with the dead Stood round in pensive meditation rapt, Silent spectators of the awful scene: There his disciples in a group apart, [ 25] Like frighted sheep that cluster in a storm, Throng'd each on other interchanging looks Of sorrow and despair; no voice was heard, No utterance but of sighs; though all had need Of comfort, none had comfort to bestow. [ 30] But PETER, in whose self-accusing breast Grief roll'd in tempests, had the whilst chos'n out A solitary spot, where at his length Outstretch'd with face incumbent on the ground He lay like one, whom fortune had cast off, [ 35] Of all hope 'reft, most wretched and forlorn. There too the holy Mother might be seen, Like Rizpah, watching o'er her murder'd son, Rooted in earth, a monument of woe. Beside her, bath'd in sympathising tears, [ 40]

First in his Master's love, as meek of soul, Stood JOHN, adopted by his dying Lord Son and supporter of that mournful Saint. At length with reverend love he turn'd his eyes Upon the Virgin Mother and thus spake. [ 45] Oh thou! participant with God himself In his incarnate Offspring, if I claim The glorious title, which my dying Lord On me, thy servant ever, now thy son, Gracious bequeath'd, let not my words offend. [ 50] High honor and a trust than life more dear Hath CHRIST by this adoption deign'd to cast On me unmeriting; yet well I heard Those sacred words—Mother, behold thy son; Son, look upon thy mother!—Yes, I heard, [ 55] And treasuring in my heart the rich bequest, Bow'd and obey'd: Ev'n then my zeal had spoke The dictates of devotion, had I dar'd To break the awful silence of that hour, Or sacrilegiously divert the ear [ 60] Of mute attention, whilst those lips divine, Those living oracles, had breath to move; Now mute, alas! for He is now no more, Who had the words of life: Our hope is quench'd, Our glory vanish'd. See! the deed is done: [ 65]

Those murderers have kill'd the Prince of Peace, Cold on the cross and stiff'ning in the wind To the rude elements his corpse is left; Nor is there found, who shall provide a grave For the sad reliques of the Son of God. [ 70] But lo! the heav'ns, that three long hours have mourn'd In darkness, now throw off their sable shroud: The earth no longer quakes beneath our feet, The shatter'd rocks subside; Nature is calm, The sun unmasks and through disparted clouds [ 75] With ruddy twilight streaks the western sky. And may not we, since God hath now withdrawn His terrors and asswag'd the wrathful sky, May not we hope, that as his light revives At the third hour, so of his blessed Son [ 80] The promis'd resurrection to new life At the third day shall also come to pass? When, as the sun emerging from eclipse Darkness dispells, so CHRIST from out the grave Arising shall dispell our dark despair? [ 85] To him the holy Mother thus replied: Thou meek Disciple, in thy Master's love Pre-eminently blest, since He, whose will Should govern, so decrees it, from this hour Henceforth I lodge thee in a mother's heart [ 90]

And hold thee as my son; for I perceive CHRIST from his human nature is withdrawn, And to mortality hath render'd back All that from me a mortal he receiv'd: His Incorruptible now lives with God, [ 95] And in that glory I no part must claim; Flesh cannot share with spirit. Henceforth thou, Thou art my son adopted in the place Of that incarnate Virtue, of whose birth Miraculous the eastern star gave sign, [ 100] And Angels witness'd him the Son of God. And now behold! what wonders mark his death: Whence are these prodigies? What but the hand Of God can shake the pillars of the earth, Seal up the sun and rend these rocks in twain, [ 105] Turn day to night, tear down the temple vail, Break up the graves and bid the saints come forth? Lo, where they pass as sensible to sight As in broad day substantial man to man. And can we ask if He be very CHRIST, [ 110] Whom stars and Angels usher'd into birth? Can we doubt Him on whom the Spi'rit of God Dove-like descended? Can we stop our ears Against a voice from heav'n? Are we so blind, Dull and insensible not to behold [ 115]

That sun emergent and these moving shapes, That to revisit earth have left their graves, Awaken'd as from sleep? If these can rise, If these, whose bones are moulder'd into dust, On whom the worm hath fed for ages, men [ 120] As mortal as ourselves can re-ascend Out of the pit, do not these signs bespeak His second coming, who is LORD and CHRIST? He shall, He shall return upon the earth Victorious over death, and we, though now [ 125] Humbled in heart and for a season sad, Yet wavering not in faith and holding fast The anchor of our hope, shall yet again Behold his glory, and as now his death Turns day to night, his resurrection then [ 130] Shall into joy convert our present gloom. But see, where PETER prostrate on the earth Is lost in sorrow: Haste and bid him rise; Tell him the day's at hand when he must work. Hath he not heard the servant shall not sleep [ 135] In his Lord's absence? Strengthen thou his heart! So spake these Saints, and each to other gave Alternate solace; faith inspiring hope, And hope asswaging woe. At PETER's side Behold the meek disciple—Up! he cries, [ 140]

Awake and put on strength: The Virgin Saint, The Mother of our Lord, bids thee awake. Unprofitable grief availeth nought, But godly sorrow is approv'd in works Meet for repentance. Up! for CHRIST, though dead, [ 145] Yet speaketh, and shall come again on earth: Woe to that servant therefore, whom his Lord Shall find thus sleeping; great shall be his wrath. This said, he reach'd his hand and rais'd him up: He stood and spake—Servant, of CHRIST approv'd, [ 150] Thee and thy blessed Sender I obey: Yet doth my heart, by deep remorse subdued, Press downward to the dust. A wretch I am, Who hath denied his Lord: What can I do, A miserable man? O righteous JOHN, [ 155] When thou shalt spread abroad, as sure thou wilt, The direful doings of this fatal day, And publish to mankind the wond'rous love Of CHRIST thus dying for them, I conjure thee Be faithful to the truth, screen not my crime, [ 160] Foul though it be, but let the nations know PETER, who vaunted of himself, was false, So shall they reap instruction from my shame, And by despising me correct themselves.

Thus spake the contrite Saint, when now the priests, [ 165] Whose custom was upon this solemn eve To purge their Golgotha from human blood, Send forth their guard official to remove CHRIST and the slaves convict before the dawn Of that great day, too hallow'd to permit [ 170] Their bodies fest'ring on th' ill-omen'd cross. And lo! the soldiers so encharg'd arrive, Survey the victims and begin the work: But first the pond'rous sledge with horrid crash Descending breaks the knees and ankle joints [ 175] Of these two criminals; for stubborn life Still hover'd on their lips, and now and then Their heaving bosoms fetch'd a deep-drawn sigh, Like the slow swell of seas without a wind. But when the Savior's body they approach'd [ 180] And saw there needed not a second blow To make his death secure, the word of God Prophetic mov'd their else obdurate hearts To break no limb; yet one, so destin'd, thrust His spear into his side and forthwith flow'd [ 185] Water and blood from the heart-piercing wound: So deep the stab, that to life's citadel, Had life remain'd, the mortal point had reach'd

And there had finish'd it. Meanwhile behold! JOSEPH arrives; a counsellor was he, [ 190] But not for death, and rich and just withal; In Ramoth born, where Samuel first drew breath, And as his heart in righteousness and faith Stood firm with CHRIST whilst living, so his zeal An honour'able interment to bestow [ 195] On his dead Master prompted him to make Bold suit to PILATE for the lifeless corpse, Nor fail'd he of his suit; therefore he came, So favor'd, to receive the precious charge Of those dear reliques and with decent rites [ 200] Commit them to the grave: Spear'd to the heart, And death with double diligence ensur'd, The body they take down; the hands and feet Pierc'd through with nails and all besmear'd with blood, O piteous spectacle! which to behold [ 205] Bathes every angel face in heav'n with tears! Accursed Deicides! the time comes on, When every mark your sacrilegious hands Have printed on that corpse shall be a seal To testify against you, every gash [ 210] Unclos'd shall with it's living lips proclaim CHRIST in his human attributes renew'd, Corporeal yet immortal: Then the hand

Of him who doubts shall probe those gaping wounds, And by the evidence of sense compel [ 215] The faithless and reluctant to believe. And now they place the body on the bier, Cleans'd of the blood and wrapt in seemly cloths: Then under guard convey it to the vault Hewn in the rock, where never corpse was laid, [ 220] And there consign it to it's dark abode, Rolling a massy fragment to the door, Unwieldy, vast; and having seal'd the stone, They post their centinels, and so depart. Meanwhile the' unhoused spirit of CHRIST, set free [ 225] From gross communion with his earthly clay, Borne with the meteor's speed upon the wings Of mightiest Cherubim had now approach'd The dark confines of Death's engulph'd domain: Here at the barrier of that vast profound [ 230] On the firm adamant, from whence uprose The tow'ring structure of hell's ebon gate, The heav'nly Visitant descending bade His cherub bearers stoop their wings, on which As in a plumey chariot he rode; [ 235] And now alighted on the dreadful brink The Savior paus'd and downward cast his eye O'er that immeasurable blank, the grave

Of universal Nature, founded then And charter'd to the gloomy powers of Sin [ 240] And Death Sin-born, when the primaeval pair Lost immortality and fell from God. The starry lamps of heav'n here lost their light, No sun-beam ever reach'd this dismal realm: Yet in CHRIST's spi'rit divine that living light, [ 245] Which from the Father of creation flow'd Before all time, inherently supplied Self-furnish'd vision to explore the bounds Of that oblivious pit, in whose dark womb Myriads of unredeemed souls were plung'd; [ 250] All who of human birth had pass'd that gate From righteous Abel, the first-fruit of death, To him, whose heart had newly ceas'd to beat, Were in that gulph immers'd. At farthest end Of that Obscure a pillary cloud arose [ 255] Of sulph'rous smoke, that from hell's crater steam'd; Whence here and there by intermittent gleams Blue flashing fires burst forth, that sparkling blaz'd Up to the iron roof, whose echoing vault Resounded ever with the dolorous groans [ 260] Of the sad crew beneath: Thence might be heard The wailing suicide's remorseful plaint; The murd'rer's yelling scream, and the loud cry

Of tyrants in that fiery furnace hurl'd, Vain cry▪ th' unmitigated furies urge [ 265] Their ruthless task and to the cauldron's edge With ceaseless toil huge blocks of sulphur roll, Pil'd mountains high to feed the greedy flames: All these, th' accursed brood of Sin, were once The guilty pleasures, the false joys, that lur'd [ 270] Their sensual vota'rists to th' infernal pit: Them their fell mother, watchful o'er the work, With eye that sleep ne'er clos'd and snaky scourge Still waving o'er their heads, for ever plies To keep the fiery deluge at it's heighth; [ 275] And stops her ears against the clam'rous din Of those tormented, who for mercy call Age after age implor'd and still denied. These when th' all-present Spirit of CHRIST descried At distance tossing in the sulph'rous lake, [ 280] And heard their dismal groans, the conscious sense Of human weakness by experience earn'd In his own mortal body now put off, And recollection that Himself of late In his sublunar pilgrimage had prov'd [ 285] Temptations like to their's, drew from his soul. A sigh of nat'ral pity, as from man To man although in merited distress:

But when his human sympathy gave place To judgment better weigh'd and riper thoughts [ 290] Congenial with the Godhead reassum'd, The justice of their doom, th' abhorrence due To their vile deeds by voluntary act Of will, left free, committed in despight Of conscience moving them to better thoughts, [ 295] Turn'd him indignant from the loathed sight Of these impenitents; when, after pause, To GABRIEL, chief of the cherubic host And late his strength'ning angel, thus he spake. GABRIEL, or e'er from this high steep we launch [ 300] With prone descent into this gloomy vast, This shadowy dark inane, the realm of Death, After so swift a race through all the spheres From earth to this hell's portal, it behoves Thee and thy plumed cohort to recruit [ 305] The vigor of your wings; for sure I am That in this subterranean we shall find No breeze from heav'n's pure aether to give aid To motion, or uphold in steady poise Your feath'ry vans outstretch'd; nor may we look [ 310] For star or planet or one straggling ray From circumlucent sun to guide our course Through this obscure domain of Night and Death.

Nor less behoves thee, gentle as thou art, Friendliest to man of all heav'n's angel host [ 315] And for each task of mercy and of love First in the choice of God, to arm thy heart For the sad spectacles, the dismal scenes, Which we must needs encounter in this gulph Of human misery, this world of woes, [ 320] Fit residence for SATAN and his crew Of outcast angels; sad reverse to thee Inhabitant of heav'n: And now, behold! Where hell's infernal pit with horrid glare Flames through the dismal gloom, there, but that God [ 325] In mercy films thine arch-angelic eye, Such myriads in that ever-burning lake Of souls tormented thou wouldst else discern, As would appal thy nature; but these scenes From thee, a spi'rit so loving to mankind, [ 330] So melting soft to pity, are with-held: No mercy can I meditate far them Impenitent, no embassy of peace Have I in charge, no respite, till the trump Of general resurrection calls them up [ 335] At the last day of judgment, then to hear Their crimes rehears'd, their blasphemies expos'd, Their envyings, frauds, revilings, treach'ries, plots▪

And ev'ry secret of their hearts unmask'd By an all-righteous Judge, who shall pronounce [ 340] Their final condemnation and decree Their present pains perpetual. We meanwhile To other regions shall divert our course From them and from their torments far apart, Regions of night and silence, where the souls [ 345] Of righteous men in their oblivious caves Sleep out the time till their Deliverer comes To wake them from their trance, dissolve the spell Of their enchanter Death and set them free To range the fields of Paradise, where flows, [ 350] As from a fountain by God's presence fed, Beatitude surpassing human thought, Pleasures unseen, unnumber'd, unconceiv'd. This said, from those high battlements the Dove Of Peace upon Redemption's errand sent, [ 355] Borne on the wings of his cherubic choir, Descended swift, and through the drowsy void To Death's terrific palace steer'd his flight. Here the Arch-foe of man, from earth expell'd By man's Redeemer, newly had arriv'd, [ 360] But fear-struck and in like disastrous trim With war-worn Sisera, when in his flight From the victorious Naphthalite he came

To ask protection at falfe Jael's tent, And ruin found instead. The whirlwind's blast [ 365] Had shatter'd his proud form; now scorch'd by fires, Now driv'n to regions of perpetual frost Beyond extremest Saturn's wint'ry sphere, No middle course kept he, nor had his feet From their aërial journey once found rest, [ 370] Till at the threshold of Death's gloomy throne Down on the solid adamant he fell Precipitate at once, and lay entranc'd Of arch-angelic majesty the wreck. Scar'd at the hideous crash and all aghast [ 375] Death scream'd amain, then wrapt himself in clouds, And in his dark pavilion trembling sate Mantled in night. And now the prostrate fiend Rear'd his terrific head with lightnings scorch'd And furrow'd deep with scars of livid hue; [ 380] Then stood erect and roll'd his blood-shot eyes To find the ghastly vision of grim Death, Who at the sudden downfal of his fire Startled, and of his own destruction warn'd, Had shrunk from sight, and to a misty cloud [ 385] Dissolv'd hung lowring o'er his shrouded throne. When SATAN, whose last hope was now at stake, Impatient for the interview exclaim'd.

Where art thou, Death? Why hide thyself from him, Of whom thou art? Come forth, thou grisly king; [ 390] And though to suitor of immortal mould Thy refuge be denied, yet at my call, Thy father's call, come forth and comfort me, Thou gaunt anatomy, with one short glimpse Of those dry bones, in which alone is peace [ 395] And that oblivious sleep, for which I sigh. He said, and now a deep and hollow groan, Like roar of distant thunders, shook the hall, And from before the cloud-envelop'd throne The adamantine pavement burst in twain [ 400] With hideous crash self-open'd, and display'd A subterranean chasm, whose yawning vault, Deep as the pit of Acheron, forbade All nearer access to the shado'wy king. Whereat the imprison'd winds, that in it's womb [ 405] Were cavern'd, 'gan to heave their yeasty waves In bubbling exhalations, till at once Their eddying vapors working upwards burst From the broad vent enfranchis'd, when, behold! The cloud that late around the throne had pour'd [ 410] More than Egyptian darkness, now began To lift it's fleecy skirts, till through the mist The imperial Phantom gleam'd; monster deform'd;

Enormous, terrible, from heel to scalp One dire anatomy; his giant bones [ 415] Star'd through the shrivell'd skin, that loosely hung On his sepulchral carcase; round his brows A cypress wreath tiara-like he wore With nightshade and cold hemlock intertwin'd; Behind him hung his quiver'd store of darts [ 420] Wing'd with the raven's plume; his fatal bow Of deadly yew, tall as Goliah's spear, Propp'd his unerring arm; about his throne, If throne it might be call'd, which was compos'd Of human bones, as in a charnel pil'd, [ 425] A hideous group of dire diseases stood, Sorrows and pains and agonizing plagues, His ghastly satellites, and, ev'n than these More terrible, ambition's slaught'ring sons, Heroes and conquerors stil'd on earth, but here [ 430] Doom'd to ignoble drudgery, employ'd To do his errands in the loathsome vault, And tend corruption's never-dying worm, To haunt the catacombs and ransack graves, Where some late popu'lous city is laid waste [ 435] By the destroying pestilence, or storm'd By murdering Russ or Tartar blood-besmear'd And furious in the desp'rate breach to plant

His eagle or his crescent on the piles Of mangled multitudes and flout the sky [ 440] With his victorious banners. Now a troop Of shrowded ghosts upon a signal given By their terrific Monarch start to sight, Each with a torch funereal in his grasp, That o'er the hall diffus'd a dying light, [ 445] Than darkness' self more horrible: The walls Of that vast cenotaph, hung round with spears, Falchions and pole-axes and plumed helms, Shew'd like the arm'ory of some warlike state: There every mortal weapon might be seen, [ 450] Each implement of old or new device, Which savage nature or inventive art Furnish'd to arm the ruffian hand of war And deal to man the life-destroying stroke: And them betwixt at intervals were plac'd [ 455] The crowned skeletons of mighty kings, Caesars and Caliphs and barbarian Chiefs, Monsters, whose swords had made creation shrink And frighted peace and science from the earth. Pondering the scene in mute amazement rapt [ 460] The lost Arch-angel stood, when soon the voice Of Death as from the tombs low-murmuring thus Bespoke attention—What uncivil cause,

Prince of the air, provokes thee to offend Against the peaceful charter of these realms [ 465] By voice thus rude and clamo'rous? Know'st thou not I reign by privilege, though son not slave Of thee heav'n-exil'd? Here no place hast thou, For here is peace; no part in this domain To thee and to thy rebel host belongs: [ 470] They in the flames of Tartarus, but we Dwell with the silent worm: The pow'r we have O'er man's corruptible and mortal part Ends with the body; here the bones may sleep, For these anatomies disturb us not: [ 475] But for the spark unquenchable, the soul Immortal, which survives the fleeting breath, Of that we take no charge; that must abide In other regions it's appointed lot Of misery or bliss. What then hath Death [ 480] To do with SATAN? Can the son, who drew Existence from the father, quench that spi'rit, Which God decreed eternal? Will those fires Cease at my word? Hell will not hear my voice, Nor can the howlings of th' infernal pit [ 485] Enter my ears. Ask not repose of me, Tormented fiend: There is no grave for sin, No sleep for SATAN; fall'n from heav'n thou art,

There thou hast no abode; fall'n now from earth, Where is thy lodging? Where, but in those flames? [ 490] Pass on then in thy course, nor loiter here, For hell expects thee: Wert thou here to stay, Death in destroying thee himself destroys. Whereto th' unwelcome visitant replied— Inhospitable Pow'r! and is it thus [ 495] Thou greet'st a father in his extreme need Suppliant for leave to draw a moment's breath In thy pale presence, till this furious blast, That follow'd me from earth, shall spend it's rage And cease to howl through the profound of hell? [ 500] If in thy heartless trunk no mem'ory dwells Of what I was, Oh! teach me to forget What now I am and make my senses dull To pain, as thine to gratitude are lost: But if thy mind be present to record [ 505] My fall from bliss, will it not also serve To put thee in remembrance how that fall Bestow'd on thee a station and a name? Had I not fall'n from heav'n man had not lost The joys of Paradise, immortal joys [ 510] Till I destroy'd them; who then but myself, Exil'd from God, brought Death into the world, Gave thee the sepulchre for thy domain,

And every mortal body for thy prey? Whose hand but SATAN's, thankless as thou art, [ 515] Plac'd that victorious wreath upon thy brow, Arm'd thee for war and bade thee be a king? And what doth SATAN now demand of Death? What, but a moment's respite, the small boon Of hospitable shelter, where to lay [ 520] My aching head and rest my weary wing? This to the father can the son refuse? I ask no more. If CHRIST, from whom I fly, Pursues me to this pit, and into hell Descending shall repass her gloomy gates [ 525] Guarded by Sin, that barrier lost, farewell To all thy greatness! Where shall be thy sting, O Death, and where thy victory, O Grave? Then to have harbor'd SATAN shall not add One feather to the balance of thy fate: [ 530] All must be lost together; I to flames Consign'd, thou, Phantom, into air dissolv'd. No more of this vain arguing, Death replied; My peace and my repose I can but deal As God decrees, and as he wills withhold: [ 535] Thus wrangling to the latest hour of time Nothing, O SATAN, could'st thou wring from me But the same answer and the same despair:

I with mortality alone confer, Thou art a deathless spirit: If my pow'r [ 540] Cannot annihilate the soul of man, How then of angel? Guilty thou hast been, Conscious must ever be, and therefore curst. Of me complaining thou condemn'st thyself, The righteous ever are at peace with Death; [ 545] Thou art not of their number. Spi'rit unblest, Author of man's revolt and all things ill, The hell which thou hast peopled, is thine own. Earth thou hast made a ruin, men by thee Perverted turn to monsters, Heav'n itself, [ 550] Disturb'd by thy rebellion, for a while Suffer'd convulsion, and her thrones besieg'd Echo'd the din of battle; the fair bloom Of Paradise was blasted by thy spells, And man driv'n forth to till th' unthankful earth [ 555] And toil and sweat for a precarious meal, Degraded from his origin, at length To me and to corruption was consign'd. These were thy doings, this was my descent, And my inheritance the loathsome worm, [ 560] The throne funereal and this yawning gulph Impassable, which I am yet to thank For that it holds thee at a distance from me:

This is thy bounty. Look upon these bones, Survey this dread anatomy, and say [ 565] If son so fashion'd owes his father thanks: Proportion'd to thy goodness I accord My gratitude by bidding thee avaunt; Hence from my sight, intruder! Thrust from earth As heretofore from heav'n, and tempest-torn [ 570] With bruised head and shatter'd flagging wing Hither thou com'st a fugitive from Him, Whom in the wilderness for forty days Tempting thou didst annoy: Dull, doating spirit! Blind to thine own destruction, not to see [ 575] God's pow'r in CHRIST, nor understand that He, Who foil'd thy cunning, might defy thy strength: But neither strength nor cunning shall prevail To draw me forth upon a losing side, And set this empire on a desp'rate cast: [ 580] I lack presumption to oppose that Power, Which puts hell's monarch to inglorious flight. What shelter can'st thou find behind a shade, An airy phantom? Such thou say'st I am, Such let me be! That phantom will not tempt [ 585] The furious blast of God's avenging breath, Nor mov'd to pity by thy treacherous plaints Tender oblivion's boon to soul accurst:

Such favor when thou wouldst extort from Death, That phantom will be adamant to thee. [ 590] Now learn a truth: CHRIST in the flesh is dead; Yet long I cannot hold him in the grave; His body interdicted to the worm For some mysterious purpose is reserv'd From all corruption free, and sure I am [ 595] He will not leave his enemy at large In this obscure domain, where sleep the souls Of righteous men; fly then, whilst yet the hour Serves thee for flight—And hark! the angel trump Sounds his approach. Now tremble, thou accurst! [ 600] No more; encanopied beneath the wings Of mighty Cherubim with sounding trump And joyful chaunt the LORD OF LIFE came on— Lift up your heads, the heav'nly chorus sung, Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates, [ 605] And CHRIST the King of Glory shall come in— Bright as the sun his presence; darkness fled Down to the center; SATAN on the earth Fell motionless; Death trembled on his throne, And call'd his shadowy guards, they with loud shrieks [ 610] Vanish'd in air, whilst from the gulph profound Blue lightnings flash'd and deep-mouth'd thunders roar'd;

When CHRIST with eye severe on SATAN turn'd Bade the storm cease and thus address'd the fiend. Well art thou found, thou serpent, on the brink [ 615] Of thy last home, this horrible abyss, For thee and for thine impious crew prepar'd. Man from his God by thy corruption turn'd Is by my death receiv'd into the peace Of his offended Maker, and if faith [ 620] Opens his way to heav'n in righteousness And true conversion, Death cannot retain His soul in darkness, nor thy crafty wiles Puzzle his path and damp his glowing zeal; But thou presumptuous, who hast had the world [ 625] To range at will, and from God's altars pluck'd Their consecrated honors, falsely view'd Those spoils, by sufferance yielded, as the prize Of thine own proper victory. Behold! These are thy triumphs; in this pit receive [ 630] Thy folly's confutation and the doom Of woe eternal on thy sin denounc'd. He said, nor other answer SATAN gave Than one deep groan rent from his lab'ring breast. The strong vindictive Angel, to whose charge [ 635] The key of that infernal pit belong'd,

Now seiz'd him in his grasp and from the ground Lifting his pond'rous bulk, such vigor dwelt In arm celestial, headlong down at once Down hurl'd him to the bottom of the gulph, [ 640] Then follow'd on the wing: His yelling cries Death heard, whilst terror shiver'd every bone: Not so the choir cherubic; they with joy Beheld Redemption's triumph in the fall Of that Great Dragon, enemy of man, [ 645] That antient Serpent, now with bruised head And sting-bereft hurl'd down into the pit: Whereat in heav'nly concert they begin To raise their tuneful voices and sing forth Praise to the Lamb of God, and joyful strain [ 650] Of gratulation to the Saints redeem'd— Now is salvation come and strength and power, The kingdom of our God and of his CHRIST: Now is that railing and malignant foe Cast down into the pit, which day and night [ 655] Accus'd our righteous brethren to their God: Now are they made victorious by the blood Of the Redeeming Lamb, and in the word Of Truth, their fearless witness, through the world Go forth against the anarchy of Sin [ 660] A host of martyrs faithful unto death;

Therefore rejoice, ye heav'ns, and ye of earth Inhabitants, awake to joy and hail The day-spring of Salvation from on high. SATAN meanwhile ten thousand fathoms deep [ 665] At bottom of the pit, a mangled mass With shatter'd brain and broken limbs outspread, Lay groaning on the adamantine rock: Him the strong Angel with ethereal touch Made whole in form, but not to strength restor'd, [ 670] Rather to pain and the acuter sense Of shame and torment; hideous was the glare Of his blood-streaming eyes and loud he yell'd For very agony, whilst on his limbs The massy fetters, such as hell alone [ 675] Could forge in hottest sulphur, were infix'd And rivetted in the perpetual stone: Upon his back he lay extended, huge, A hideous ruin; not a word vouchsaf'd That vengeful Angel, but with quick dispatch [ 680] Plied his commission'd task, then stretch'd the wing And upward flew; for now th' infernal cave Through all it's vast circumference had giv'n The dreadful warning, and began to close It's rocky ribs upon th' imprison'd fiend: [ 685] Fierce and more fierce as it approach'd became

The flaming concave; thus comprest, the vault Red as metallic furnace glow'd intense With heat, that had the hideous den been less Than adamant it had become a flood, [ 690] Or SATAN other than he was in sin And arch-angelic strength pre-eminent, He neither could have suffer'd nor deserv'd: Panting he roll'd in streams of scalding sweat, Parch'd with intolerable thirst, one drop [ 695] Of water then to cool his raging tongue Had been a boon worth all his golden shrines: Vain wish! for now the pit had clos'd it's mouth, Nor other light remain'd than what the glare Of those reverberating fires bestow'd [ 700] Then all the dungeon round was thick beset With horrid faces, threat'ning as they glar'd Their haggard eyes upon him; from hell's lake Flocking they came, whole legions of the damn'd, His worshippers on earth, sensual, profane, [ 705] Abominable in their lives, monsters of vice, Blood-stained murderers, apostate kings, And crowned tyrants some, tormented now For their past crimes and into furies turn'd, Accusing their betrayer: Curses dire, [ 710] Hissings and tauntings now from every side

Assail'd his ear, on him, on him alone, From Cain first murderer to ISCARIOT all, All with loud voices charg'd on him their sins, Their agonies, with imprecations urg'd [ 715] For treble vengeance on his head accurst, Founder of hell, sole author of their woe, And enemy avow'd of all mankind. Now when the King of Terrors had perceiv'd The pow'r of his new Visitant and saw [ 720] SATAN engulph'd and the devouring pit, Best barrier of his throne, for ever clos'd, Descending from his state with heart abash'd, Conscious that pride would ill befriend him now In presence of his Conqueror, at the feet [ 725] Of CHRIST with low obeisance he put off The trophies of his brow, and on the knee, Stooping his vassal head, low homage paid, And suppliant thus his humble suit preferr'd. Immortal King! all glorious and all good, [ 730] At whose great name befits that every knee In heav'n or earth or in these realms beneath Should bend adoring, let thy will prevail Here, as wherever else! And sure I am 'Tis not my pow'r but thine own wond'rous love, [ 735] Consenting to the deed, hath brought thee here

In pity to mankind to taste the cup Of agony and visit these sad shades, Though deathless; thence to re-ascend, as soon Thou shalt, victorious to the realms of light. [ 740] I know thee for the CHRIST the Son of God, Messias of the prophets long foreseen, Yet of the unbelieving Jews despis'd, Rejected, for thou cam'st not in the pomp Of tempo'ral majesty and only great [ 745] In patience, in humility, in love And miracles of mercy. At thy feet This head uncrown'd thus stooping, I resign All empire; not on me let fall thy wrath As on that bruised Serpent. What am I? [ 750] What is the sword, what is the pestilence, And all my host of mortal ministers, But servants of thy providence, a scourge And rod of vengeance, wherewith to chastise Presumptuous, guilty pride? Whose hand but mine [ 755] Strikes terror to the atheist's harden'd heart? Who plucks the tyrant from his bloody car And rolls him in the dust? or at a blow Strangles the curse in the blasphemer's throat? If on the martyr's head my axe descends, [ 760] The same hand plants a crown of glory there;

And if in my dark caves the righteous sleep, Peaceful they sleep; I break not their repose, For silence dwells with me and night and rest. Behold the key inviolate that guards [ 765] Their hallow'd slumbers; never did I yield, Though oft solicited, this sacred pledge To SATAN or his sin-defiled crew; Faithful I've kept it ever, faithful now To thee their Savior I resign my charge. [ 770] This said, the golden badge of his command, Rich and of heav'nly workmanship with gems Of azure, green and purple thick emboss'd, Humbly he laid at the REDEEMER's feet: He to the zeal of GABRIEL strait consign'd [ 775] Th' enlargement of those spi'rits to bliss preferr'd, Fit minister for office so benign: Whereat he bade sound forth the signal trump Of the First Resurrection, heard of none Save of those holy Saints elect of God, [ 780] Martyrs and prophets, call'd to live with CHRIST In antecedent glory till the day Of general Resurrection shall awaken And summon into judgment all mankind. Swift hied that friendly Angel on the wing, [ 785] Swifter, for that, on gracious errand sent,

Joy urg'd him to put forth his utmost speed; Meanwhile the heav'nly Visitant of Death Upon that ghastly Vision turn'd his eyes, And thus in accent mild address'd the Shade. [ 790] That I came down from heav'n and am the CHRIST, Rightly, O Death, thou hast pronounc'd; yet here I come not to destroy thy power at once, But to set free the Saints thou hold'st in thrall, And call them to my peace; but ev'n of these [ 795] Part till my second coming must abide: Of thee and all things of corruption bred The term is fix'd; God must be all in all: But time, as man computes, hath yet to roll Through numerous ages ere the final trump [ 800] Shall sound thy knell. I brought not upon earth Peace, but the sword; the gospel I have preach'd Man will corrupt, misconstrue and pervert; Nor shall my Church be only drench'd with blood Of it's own martyrs, zealots shall arise [ 805] Aliens to my humility and peace, With more than pagan enmity enflam'd Each against other; then shall ruthless war And persecution and fierce civil rage Ravage the Christian world; intole'rant pride, [ 810] Usurping pow'r infallible, shall send

It's heralds forth with cursing in their mouths And fetters for man's conscience in their hands; They in the battle's front shall plant the Cross And bid the unconverted nations kneel [ 815] Under their conqu'ring standard and adopt The creed of murderers, who, in the place Of the pure bond of charity, present A forged scroll blurr'd and defac'd with lies, And impiously inscribe it with my Name. [ 820] These are religion's traitors, and from them An ample harvest shalt thou reap, O Death; Suffice it thee to know that for a while Thou shalt be spar'd: And now no more; Behold! GABRIEL leads on the congregated Saints. [ 825] Vanish, pale Phantom! Give the ransom'd place.

END OF THE SEVENTH BOOK.