By John Milton (1667; rev. 1674)
Of Man’s first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing Heav’nly Muse…
Hail holy Light, offspring of Heav’n first-born,
Or of the Eternal coeternal beam!
May I express thee unblam’d? since God is Light,
And never but in unapproached Light
Dwelt from Eternitie…
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n…
Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heav’n.
…Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.
Not free, what proof could they have giv’n sincere
Of true allegiance, constant faith or love,
Where only what they needs must do appear’d,
Not what they would? God made thee perfect, not immutable.
Originally published in Paradise Lost (1667; revised 1674) by John Milton. Public domain.
Analysis
Milton opens with a single sentence that sets an epic agenda — to “justify the ways of God to men.” The blank verse is both stately and flexible, carrying philosophy and drama without rhyme’s enclosure. Across its invocations and councils, the poem interrogates freedom, obedience, and the risk built into created beings. Even the famous boast “Better to reign in Hell” is not endorsement but dramatic irony — a portrait of a will that mistakes pride for liberty.
Milton’s greatest innovation is to let theology unfold as action. Speeches become arguments staged in real time; syntax enacts choice and consequence. By declaring that love requires freedom, the poem frames the Fall not as a mere lapse but as the possibility that makes obedience meaningful. The “Heav’nly Muse” is finally the poem’s measure of humility: a human voice asking help to articulate cosmic justice in human terms.