Poem for 2/9/23 - Paradise Lost: Book 12 (1674 version) BY JOHN MILTON

                                                                                                                        (William Blake)

I am a big fan of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, which is based in part on Paradise Lost. Reading an introduction to the epic by Pullman, I was reminded of the last lines of Book 12, where Milton makes clear that the loss of Paradise (or, as Pullman understands it, childhood) is momentarily sad, but that the focus of one's life must be the future, with "The World...all before them..." (See Daemon Voices: On Stories and Storytelling [2018], p. 55.)

Paradise Lost: Book 12 (1674 version)

BY JOHN MILTON

                                    High in Front advanc't,
The brandisht Sword of God before them blaz'd
Fierce as a Comet; which with torrid heat,
And vapour as the Libyan Air adust,
Began to parch that temperate Clime; whereat
In either hand the hastning Angel caught
Our lingring Parents, and to th' Eastern Gate
Led them direct, and down the Cliff as fast
To the subjected Plaine; then disappeer'd.
They looking back, all th' Eastern side beheld
Of Paradise, so late thir happie seat,
Wav'd over by that flaming Brand, the Gate
With dreadful Faces throng'd and fierie Armes:
Som natural tears they drop'd, but wip'd them soon;
The World was all before them, where to choose
Thir place of rest, and Providence thir guide:
They hand in hand with wandring steps and slow,
Through Eden took thir solitarie way. (Lines 632-649)