IN PARADISUM AMISSAM SUMMI POETÆ JOHANNIS MILTON I. UI legis Amiffam Paradifum, grandia magni Carmina Miltoni, quid nifi cuncta legis? Res cunctas, & cunctarum primordia rerum, Et fata, & fines continet ifte liber. Intima panduntur magni penetralia mundi, Scribitur & toto quicquid in orbe latet: Terræque, tractufque maris, cœlumque profundum, Sulphureumque Erebi, flammivomumque fpecus: Quæque colunt terras, pontumque, & Tartara cæca, Quæque colunt fummi lucida regna poli: Et quodcunque ullis conclufum eft finibus ufquam, Et fine fine Chaos, & fine fine Deus: Et fine fine magis, fi quid magis eft fine fine, In Chrifto erga homines conciliatus amor. Hæc qui fperaret quis crederet effe futura ? Et tamen hæc hodie terra Britanna legit. O quantos in bella duces! quæ protulit arma! Quæ canit, & quanta prælia dira tuba! Cœleftes acies! atque in certamine cœlum! Et quæ cæleftes pugna deceret agros! Quantus in æthereis tollit fe Lucifer armis ! Atque ipfo graditur vix Michaële minor! Quantis, & quam funeftis concurritur iris, Dum ferus hic ftellas protegit, ille rapit! VOL. I. A Dum Dum vulfos montes ceu tela reciproca torquent, Et flammæ vibrant, & vera tonitrua rauco SAMUEL BARROW, M. D. ON PARADISE LOST. WHEN I beheld the Poet blind, yet bold, In slender book his vast design unfold, Meffiah crown'd, God's reconcil'd decree, Heaven, Hell, Earth, Chaos, all; the argument Yet [ 1 Yet as I read, ftill growing lefs fevere, I lik'd his project, the fuccefs did fear; Through that wide field how he his way should find, O'er which lame faith leads understanding blind; Left he perplex'd the things he would explain, And what was eafy he should render vain. Or if a work fo infinite he spann'd, Might hence prefume the whole creation's day Thou haft not mifs'd one thought that could be fit, And all that was improper doft omit : So that no room is here for writers left, That majesty which through thy work doth reign, Where |