text
stringlengths 0
1.91k
|
---|
Or violence, hee of thir wicked wayes
|
Shall them admonish, and before them set
|
The paths of righteousness, how much more safe,
|
And full of peace, denouncing wrauth to come
|
On thir impenitence; and shall returne
|
Of them derided, but of God observd
|
The one just Man alive; by his command
|
Shall build a wondrous Ark, as thou beheldst,
|
To save himself and houshold from amidst
|
A World devote to universal rack.
|
No sooner hee with them of Man and Beast
|
Select for life shall in the Ark be lodg'd,
|
And shelterd round, but all the Cataracts
|
Of Heav'n set open on the Earth shall powre
|
Raine day and night, all fountaines of the Deep
|
Broke up, shall heave the Ocean to usurp
|
Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise
|
Above the highest Hills: then shall this Mount
|
Of Paradise by might of Waves be moovd
|
Out of his place, pushd by the horned floud,
|
With all his verdure spoil'd, and Trees adrift
|
Down the great River to the op'ning Gulf,
|
And there take root an Iland salt and bare,
|
The haunt of Seales and Orcs, and Sea-mews clang.
|
To teach thee that God attributes to place
|
No sanctitie, if none be thither brought
|
By Men who there frequent, or therein dwell.
|
And now what further shall ensue, behold.
|
He lookd, and saw the Ark hull on the floud,
|
Which now abated, for the Clouds were fled,
|
Drivn by a keen North-winde, that blowing drie
|
Wrinkl'd the face of Deluge, as decai'd;
|
And the cleer Sun on his wide watrie Glass
|
Gaz'd hot, and of the fresh Wave largely drew,
|
As after thirst, which made thir flowing shrink
|
From standing lake to tripping ebbe, that stole
|
With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopt
|
His Sluces, as the Heav'n his windows shut.
|
The Ark no more now flotes, but seems on ground
|
Fast on the top of som high mountain fixt.
|
And now the tops of Hills as Rocks appeer;
|
With clamor thence the rapid Currents drive
|
Towards the retreating Sea thir furious tyde.
|
Forthwith from out the Arke a Raven flies,
|
And after him, the surer messenger,
|
A Dove sent forth once and agen to spie
|
Green Tree or ground whereon his foot may light;
|
The second time returning, in his Bill
|
An Olive leafe he brings, pacific signe:
|
Anon drie ground appeers, and from his Arke
|
The ancient Sire descends with all his Train;
|
Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout,
|
Grateful to Heav'n, over his head beholds
|
A dewie Cloud, and in the Cloud a Bow
|
Conspicuous with three lifted colours gay,
|
Betok'ning peace from God, and Cov'nant new.
|
Whereat the heart of ADAM erst so sad
|
Greatly rejoyc'd, and thus his joy broke forth.
|
O thou that future things canst represent
|
As present, Heav'nly instructer, I revive
|
At this last sight, assur'd that Man shall live
|
With all the Creatures, and thir seed preserve.
|
Farr less I now lament for one whole World
|
Of wicked Sons destroyd, then I rejoyce
|
For one Man found so perfet and so just,
|
That God voutsafes to raise another World
|
From him, and all his anger to forget.
|
But say, what mean those colourd streaks in Heavn,
|
Distended as the Brow of God appeas'd,
|
Or serve they as a flourie verge to binde
|
The fluid skirts of that same watrie Cloud,
|
Least it again dissolve and showr the Earth?
|
To whom th' Archangel. Dextrously thou aim'st;
|
So willingly doth God remit his Ire,
|
Though late repenting him of Man deprav'd,
|
Griev'd at his heart, when looking down he saw
|
The whole Earth fill'd with violence, and all flesh
|
Corrupting each thir way; yet those remoov'd,
|
Such grace shall one just Man find in his sight,
|
That he relents, not to blot out mankind,
|
And makes a Covenant never to destroy
|
The Earth again by flood, nor let the Sea
|
Surpass his bounds, nor Rain to drown the World
|
With Man therein or Beast; but when he brings
|
Over the Earth a Cloud, will therein set
|
His triple-colour'd Bow, whereon to look
|
And call to mind his Cov'nant: Day and Night,
|
Seed time and Harvest, Heat and hoary Frost
|
Shall hold thir course, till fire purge all things new,
|
Both Heav'n and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell.
|
Thus thou hast seen one World begin and end;
|
And Man as from a second stock proceed.
|
Much thou hast yet to see, but I perceave
|
Thy mortal sight to faile; objects divine
|
Must needs impaire and wearie human sense:
|
Henceforth what is to com I will relate,
|
Thou therefore give due audience, and attend.
|
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.