IRE ID E ]MI IIPXI 1ST -
��BOOK I.
THE MAN divine, of Adam's race the chief, Sing heav'nly Muse; tell how round Solyma He walk'd, how knock'd at her imperial gates, And o'er her ruin, long impending, hung, With tear and earnest pleading oft besought, Fain to avert destruction from her head; Nor her's alone, though first to hear his voice, Through cov'nant grace with him, whose faithfulness Was with the promise bless'd, but all who feel Sin's cumulative load, who inly groan, And seek deliv' ranee from her dire enthrall; The first to hear, yet obdurate reject, The only Hope whence safety could depend. Celestial Spirit, whose enliv'ning ray Wakes dead to life, illumines what is dark, And heavenly order out of chaos brings, Breathe on the chaos of my mind, illume, And raise me to full measure of a strain Best suited to angelic muse in height, But yet the proper theme of fallen man. Brood dove-like o'er the spirit of my song, That in soft cadence, I, redeeming love,
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