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#for which of my bad parts didst though first fall in love with me
bipunkharrington · 2 years
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Steve and Eddie AU where they meet in detention because they're both failing English and missed the hand in deadline for an assignment, cause neither of them had even started reading it.
They're studying Much Ado About Nothing and neither of them have actually read it, they start studying it together and they argue like Beatrice and Benedick constantly and their "getting together" heavily mirrors the play (it's been a long time since I read it so if I were ever actually to write the fic I'd need to do research 😂). I get the idea that they both probably struggle with focus when reading, but reading aloud helps Eddie to him and Steve start actually taking it in turns to essentially "run lines".
The story has an epilogue in which they're finally getting married after spending decades together and Eddie uses the "When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I would live till I were married" line in his vows.
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luninosity · 3 years
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And - final @evanstanweek fic!
Prompt 7, “holidays,” this time...which, um...became International Talk Like A Pirate Day. And implied imminent sex, and piratical roleplay, and terrible, terrible jokes. And maybe something like a marriage proposal. 1,490 words, no warnings.
Read at AO3 here! Or here on tumblr below.
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“Hey, Seb,” Chris says.
 Sebastian, lazily settled against Chris’s chest and halfway through reading a script for a potential upcoming Shakespeare adaptation, looks up and says, “For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?”
 Chris laughs, and retorts with, “I do love nothing in the world so well as you,” because Chris knows Much Ado About Nothing decently well, too. “Know what day it is?”
 “Saturday?”
 “Yeah, but also International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Scott just sent me like ten terrible pirate jokes. What does a pirate use his cellphone for?”
 “Oh my god,” Sebastian says.
 “Booty calls.”
 “No.”
 “Come on, that was awesome. All of these…arrrr.”
 “I’ll divorce you,” Sebastian threatens, not seriously because he’s extremely comfortable right here in morning sunshine on the pillowy sofa with Chris at his back and Dodger draped over their feet.
 “You like terrible puns,” Chris says, “I know you do,” and then, “wait, we’re not even married!”
 “Exactly,” Sebastian retorts, with emphasis, and goes back to squabbling Shakespearean lovers.
 “You’re thinking about us being married.” Chris points a finger at him. “You love me. And the terrible puns.”
 “If you say anything about a Jolly Roger,” Sebastian says, “we’re not having sex for like a week.”
 “Can I ask if you’re prepared to be boarded?”
 Sebastian sighs, sits up, and kisses the love of his life, mostly because that’s always a good distraction. It works like a charm; Chris dives into kissing him and being kissed with every drop of enthusiasm that makes up that huge rainbow-hued exuberant heart.
 Kind of unfortunately, Sebastian’s head also briefly pictures Chris in a pirate’s hat. With a parrot.
 He resolutely ignores that image, and climbs into Chris’s lap, instead.
  Around lunchtime, Chris asks what he feels like as far as food. Sebastian opens his mouth, and then Chris says, “If we were pirates we could get barr-beque,” and Sebastian throws a couch-pillow at him.
 Chris apologizes for that one, though he’s laughing. Sebastian sighs.
 They get pizza, in the end.
  “Hey, Seb,” Chris says later, as they’re turning toward home, out with Dodger in the afternoon breeze, wandering around under trees like ruffled green dancers beneath a big blue sky.
 “Don’t you dare,” Sebastian says, hand held securely in Chris’s.
 “Why couldn’t the pirates play cards?”
 “Because the captain was standing on the deck,” Sebastian says.
 Chris’s whole face lights up. “You know that one?”
 Sebastian narrows eyes at him. “It was the logical answer!”
 “Why’re you anti-pirate?”
 “I’m actually not,” Sebastian says. “I’m kind of pro-pirate. Plundering, specifically. Getting, um, pillaged behind that tree.”
 “I love your ideas,” Chris agrees, and pushes him up against a friendly tree trunk and kisses him and gets hands all over him, pinning his wrists to tree-bark, sneaking under his shirt, pushing between Sebastian’s thighs, with Chris’s body large and hot and hard and adoring and pressed up against him. They make out in the woods until they’re both breathless and giddy and Sebastian’s about one caress away from coming in his pants, laughing, clinging to Chris, a leaf in his hair and mud on his boots, loving everything about his life.
  Chris kind of gives up on the talk-like-a-pirate day jokes, after that. Possibly this is because Sebastian’s distractions via sex have worked, or possibly not; either way, Chris seems apologetic about it, and even makes dinner, one of his mom’s cozy classic pasta recipes. He also opens a new bottle of decently expensive red wine Sebastian hadn’t known they had, and grabs the space-themed wineglass, the one etched with tiny stars.
 “I don’t mind your terrible pirate puns,” Sebastian says. Chris prefers beer, he knows.
 “Yeah, I know. I don’t know.” Chris shrugs. “Just felt like being nice to you.”
 “Why pirate day or whatever it is, again?”
 Chris shrugs again. “Just kinda fun? Random?”
 Sebastian considers Chris’s face, and the wineglass, and his own love. And then looks down at his toes, and tells Chris, “I’m wearing the wrong socks, then.”
 “Huh?”
 “Y’know, for the whole pirate thing. They should be, what…arrr-gyle?”
 “Oh my god,” Chris says, “I love you, I fucking love you, Seb.”
 “I might need more wine,” Sebastian says. “Especially if it’s from the…sand bar.” It’s the actual worst joke he’s ever made.
 Chris starts laughing so hard he has to grab the counter, and also Sebastian’s shoulder.
 Sebastian grins. Even his socks feel smug.
  They’re too full after pasta to do much about pillaging, so they flop down on the sofa and watch a documentary about Mars for a while. Chris gets a fire going, and the wind purrs outside, and Dodger’s snoring in his bed, and it’s so domestic and so perfect that Sebastian’s eyes get a little prickly and his heart feels a little shaky. Sometimes he still can’t believe it: being here, being part of Chris’s life. Himself, Sebastian Stan. Loved so deeply and so well.
 Because he loves Chris so damn much, he leans over to bite Chris’s shoulder. Chris grins and pets his hair, and even tugs slightly, because they both know how that dominance goes right to Sebastian’s head and stomach and happy cock; it does now, too, as usual.
 “You want me to do something about that,” Chris beckons, “maybe take care of you a little, if you’re needing some attention, Seb?” and his voice turns all low and rumbly and commanding, and fuck yeah, but:
 “One sec,” Sebastian announces, and hops up, and runs to their bedroom. He’s got a plan.
 He doesn’t have a whole lot that he can work with as far as costumes, pirates not having been a feature of most of his random daydreams, but he’s come up with a few ideas. A loose open white shirt, skinny black pants, a scarf tied around his waist. Some eyeliner. Some of his older jewelry, chunky extravagant rings and necklaces. He grins at himself in the mirror: some sort of haphazard pirate-steampunk-twink grins right back.
 He runs back out to the living room, where Chris is sitting up and being kind of puzzled, though that expression shifts the second Sebastian pops back in. Chris groans, “You’re just doing this to fuck with me, now, aren’t you…”
 “I was kind of hoping you’d be doing the fucking,” Sebastian says helpfully. “You know. On board with that. You can, um, come bury your…treasure…right here.”
 “Jesus,” Chris mutters, but he’s shaking his head, smiling, trying not to laugh. “Okay, okay, point made. Got it. Aye, captain. Or something.”
 “You’re right,” Sebastian says. “This is fun. Come claim my booty. Your booty. However that works. I’m all yours anyway.” He is. Body, heart, soul: everything he’s got, everything he is. He’s Chris’s.
 “I love you.” Chris gets up and comes over, hands settling on Sebastian’s shoulders, drawing him in close. “Where’d you find the scarf?”
 “It’s an old one. I thought maybe you could tie me up with it. Bend me over the bed—the railing, the captain’s bunk, whatever—and have your way with me.”
 “Are you the pirate, or am I?”
 “Maybe I’m your captive,” Sebastian considers. “You know, the dashing daring pirate adventurer that you keep chasing, good upright naval officer that you are, and you’ve finally caught me.”
 “And I’m about to do everything I can think of to you,” Chris jumps in. “Make you beg for mercy. Make you bend over for me, and spread those pretty legs. Make you take my cock, and like it.” His hand lifts Sebastian’s chin, fingers biting down: not too hard, and he’s grinning, eyes made of wicked loving conspiratorial blue. “That what you had in mind?”
 “Totally,” Sebastian says. “I mean, aye. Yarr. Yo, ho, ho, and rum, and all that. I think I like your holiday. Um. Chris?”
 “Yeah?” Chris’s thumb strokes his cheek, too gently for an angry naval officer. “Somethin’ you need, before I haul you off to my cabin?”
 “What I said earlier,” Sebastian says, “about being married to you…about us getting married…I mean, this isn’t me asking, it’ll be way more perfect whenever that happens, don’t worry, but…I just wanted to say…yeah. I do think about that. I kind of think about that a lot. I want all the weird random holidays with you. Forever.”
 Chris’s smile’s so wide and bright that it fills up the world, every fantasy and every holiday all rolled into one expression. His hand’s still cupping Sebastian’s face; the other comes to rest on Sebastian’s hip, over the scarf, with something like reverence. He says, “Guess what, Seb.”
 “Something about pirates and being a good…mate?”
 “Well, yeah, obviously that. My mate.” Chris leans in to kiss him; Sebastian’s entire body thrills to the claiming. “But also…we’ve been pretty much thinking the same things, about that. If you were wondering. I want all the weird random holidays and terrible puns and fucking perfect pirate role-play, forever, with you.”
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rahleeyah · 3 years
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rewatching much ado about nothing (as your anon is wont to do) and realized perhaps the most e/o exchange of them all
“for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?”
“for them all together”
anon. oh my anon. is that not perfect for them though? elliot and liv have seen the worst of one another. there are parts of both their hearts that make other people turn tail and run. but they don't run from each other, don't demand change from one another, don't expect either of them to be anything other than what they are. and they love, not despite those faults, but i think in no small part because their faults are parallel to one another's. they are safe with one another; they are known.
i don't put a lot of stock in those long posts that make the rounds every now and then about how to write "good." i think good is subjective and we are doing fic for fun and everybody has a different take and different styles and different goals. however, one post i read on that theme has always stuck with me; they were talking about how to create well-rounded characters, and how characters need flaws as badly as they need virtues. and it was talking about how to create realistic flaws, and basically said that sometimes, a lot of the times, flaws are born of virtues. a brilliant character may be combative and vicious when they're proven wrong about something, bc they aren't used to being wrong and see it as a personal slight. a character who is devoted to a cause may neglect the people closest to them, because they are so focused on their own goals. a caretaker may be a liar, because they don't want to burden other people with their problems or upset anyone and so they sugarcoat everything.
and elliot and olivia; are their flaws not born of their virtues? their tempers, their recklessness, elliot's arrogance and liv's commitment issues, aren't those things the end result of their dogged pursuit of justice, their deep well of compassion, their desire to protect other people?
for all of them together; to truly love their virtues is to love their flaws as well, to know there are no good parts without bad parts, to love the entirety of them, and not just the shiniest pieces.
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pamphletstoinspire · 4 years
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Story About The Second Sunday after Easter. (Latin Calendar)
by Fr. Raphael Frassinetti, 1900
Gospel. John x. 11-16. At that time Jesus said to the Pharisees: I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep. But the hireling and he that is not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep, and flieth: and the wolf catcheth and scattereth the sheep: and the hireling flieth, because he is a hireling, and he hath no care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd: and I know mine, and mine know me. As the Father knoweth me, and I know the Father: and I lay down my life for my sheep. And other sheep I have, that are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold and one shepherd.
“I Am the Good Shepherd.” This Our Lord says of Himself. Our Lord had other titles, as Jesus, Saviour, Redeemer, Master, Advocate, King of peace, Our Reconciliation, all signifying His love for mankind. Are you, my dear young people, glad of the title of good Shepherd, which Our Lord gives Himself? Yes, the title is a beautiful one; it is full of consolation and of love. He gives Himself this title in order to gain our affection and our entire heart. How good Jesus is to us, His lambs and sheep!–What care does He not take of us? He speaks to our hearts words of eternal life, and His holy inspiration illumines our mind and makes us know His goodness. He takes us up tenderly, and brings us to delightful pastures. He nourishes our souls with His holy word, by the words of His priests; He feeds us with bread which is not of this world, the Bread of angels, His sacred body and blood. Was there ever a shepherd who gave his body and blood for food to his flock? Generally the flock is a source of revenue, support, and sustenance to the shepherd; but not so in the case of this Good Shepherd. He supports and sustains His flock.
Of course the shepherd will fight for his flock, he will use every means in his power to protect it from ravage, but the Good Shepherd gives His life for His flock. O, infinite love! What pains and suffering didst Thou not endure for Thy sheep! Just think of Jesus crucified; look at Him nailed to the cross; see that face all covered with bruises; those eyes half closed with blood; those shoulders torn by stripes; that side opened by a lance; those hands and feet pierced with nails, and that head crowned with sharp thorns. All this, all these wounds, the Good Shepherd suffered for His poor lost sheep. Then what should we do on our part? Oh, give Him at least a little recognition, gratitude, obedience, and love– if nothing more than to receive Him on the great festivals of the year. This good Shepherd will love you with all affection and give you His choicest blessings.
There are, on the contrary, many restless, ill-regulated, sickly, plague-stricken sheep who have to be thrown out of the flock, because they continually disobey Him and make Him feel the sadness of having shown kindness in vain. He would like to bring them to good pastures that they might recover from their maladies, and become useful members of the flock again, but they will not listen to His voice. He calls them to the use of the sacraments, but it is in vain; He calls them about Him to be His escort and companions, but they would rather be far away from Him; they want to feed their souls on poisonous food; they do not like the restraint of being near the holy Jesus. They have left the fountains of living water which ran to eternal life. They have looked for water and found filthy broken cisterns.
Among you, my dear youthful friends, there are many wayward sheep also. This Good Shepherd seeks to bring them back to the fold, but many are obstinate, blind, and wicked, and will not hear His voice. He invites them with sweet and coaxing words; He makes them feel the qualms of conscience; He embitters the cup of vice from which they are drinking and takes peace and happiness away from them. But these wicked sheep will not listen and continually say by their works, “No, I will have nothing to do with you.” What more should this Good Shepherd do to gain them and to bring them back to His flock? Can you suggest something? Is it possible that God will not succeed in attracting them to Him? Will He not succeed when He promises them the kingdom of paradise? He must and will get angry some time; He will abandon them and deny them the help of His grace, and then they will fall from one sin to another. How many young people, my dear friends, are in such a state. In early youth they become vessels of wrath, and if God still tolerates them, the day of vengeance will come, the day on which God will separate the bad from the good. And to the bad He will say, “Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire.”
Now, there is still time to change your way of living; you can become the well-loved lambs and sheep of the flock of Christ, instead of being the despised rams that the Shepherd does not tolerate near Him. Go to Him and show your sorrow, and He will take you on His shoulders, for He is waiting and looking for you. He is watching you in your wanderings, and at the first sign of repentance, of weakness, or of fainting, He hastens to your side, He raises you on His shoulders, and carries you back to the fold which you would not have been able to reach with your wasted strength.
My young friends, we are all sheep of the flock of Christ; we are His by redemption and by the grace of almighty God. Be always obedient to Him, hear His voice, and walk continually in His footsteps. Would you walk securely in the midst of this world, so full of danger and snares? The only means is to allow yourselves to be guided by God. If you would please the divine Shepherd, imitate Him in His divine virtues, in His kindness and obedience, like good sheep who are willing to be led. The divine Shepherd having loved His flock on this earth, will call them all to the enjoyment of heavenly pastures and will quench their thirst “At the torrents of joy” which He provides for us in heaven. 
by Leonard Goffine, 1871
Because of the joyous resurrection of Christ, and the graces flowing to us on account of it, the Church sings at the Introit of Mass: The earth is full of the mercy of the Lord, Alleluia, by the word of the Lord the heavens were established, Alleluia, Alleluia. Rejoice in the Lord O ye just: praise becometh the upright. (Ps. xxxii.) Glory, &c.
PRAYER OF THE CHURCH. O God, who, by the humiliation of Thy Son, hast raised up the fallen world: grant to Thy people perpetual joy: that They whom thou hast delivered from the danger of everlasting death, may arrive at eternal happiness. Through, &c.
EPISTLE. (i. Peter ii. 21 – 25) Dearly Beloved: Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps. Who did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth. Who when He was reviled, did not revile: when He suffered, he threatened not: but delivered Himself to him that judged Him unjustly: who His own self bore our sins in His body upon the tree: that we being dead to sins, should live to justice: by whose stripes you were healed. For you were as sheep going astray: but you are now converted to the shepherd and bishop of your souls.
EXPLANATION St. Paul teaches the Christians patience in misery and afflictions, even in unjust persecution, and for this purpose places before them the example of Christ who though most innocent, suffered most terribly and so patiently. Are we true sheep of the good shepherd if at the smallest cross, at every word, we become so angry and impatient?
ASPIRATION. O Lord Jesus! grant me the grace to follow Thee, my good Shepherd, and not to complain and make threats whenever I am reprimanded, reviled, or for justice's sake am persecuted.
GOSPEL. (John x. 11 – 16.) At That Time: Jesus said to the Pharisees: I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep. But the hireling and he that is not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep, and flieth, and the wolf catcheth, and scattereth the sheep: and the hireling flieth, because he is a hireling; and he hath no care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd: and I know mine, and mine know me, as the Father knoweth me, and I know the Father: and I lay down my life for my sheep. And other sheep I have, that are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd.
In what way has Christ proved Himself a good shepherd?
In this that He sacrificed His life for those who did not yet love Him, and could not reward Him, even for His enemies (John iv. 30.; Rom. v. 8.), and has besides given Himself to them for their food.
How are we to know if we are among the sheep of Christ, that is, His chosen ones?
By this, if we willingly listen to the voice of the shepherd in sermons and instructions, in spiritual books and conversations, are obedient to it, and especially give ear and follow the rules of the Church through which the good Shepherd speaks to us (Luke x. 16.), “for he,” says St. Augustine, “who has not the Church for his mother, will not have God for his father;” if we gladly receive the food of the good Shepherd, that is, His sacredbody and blood in holy Communion; if we are patient and meek as a lamb, freely forgiving our enemies; if we love all men from our heart, do only good to them, and seek to bring them to Jesus.
Who are the other sheep of Christ?
The gentiles who were not of the fold of Israel, whom Christ sought to bring by His disciples, and now by their successors, into His fold.–Among these sheep we also, through our ancestors, belonged. O how grateful we should be to God, that He has brought us into the fold of His Church, and how diligently we should conduct ourselves as good sheep!
When will there be but one fold and one shepherd?
When by the Church's prayers and by her missionaries all nations shall be converted to the only saving Church, constituting then one Church under one head. Let us pray that this may soon come to pass.
PRAYER O Lord Jesus! Thou good Shepherd who on the cross didst give Thy life for Thy sheep, grant us, we beseech Thee, by Thy death, the grace to bear upon ourselves all the signs of Thy lambs, that we may be one day numbered among Thy chosen ones in heaven.
DOCTRINE OF HOPE I give my life for my sheep. (John x. 15.)
What has Christ won for us by His death?
The remission of our sins, the grace to lead a god-pleasing life, and eternal happiness, for which we now firmly hope, with secure confidence may now expect, and most assuredly will obtain, if we do not ourselves let it go.
In what does eternal happiness consist?
In the clear vision of God, which includes the most perfect love of Him, by which those who are saved, become, as it were, one with Him, possessing in this union everything that they could possibly desire.
What are the necessary means of obtaining eternal happiness?
The grace of God, that is, His continual assistance; the practice of the three divine virtues: faith, hope, and love; the keeping of God's commandments; the frequent use of the holy Sacraments, and constant prayer. These means must be diligently employed, for “God who,” as St. Augustine says, “created us without us, will not save us without us,” that is, without our cooperation.
What may especially enable us to hope for eternal happiness?
The infinite mercy and goodness of God, who from all eternity has loved us more than an earthly mother, and because of this love did not even spare His only begotten Son, but gave Him up, for our sake, to the bitterest death. Will He then deny us heaven, who in giving us His Son, has given us more than heaven itself?
The fidelity of God: He has so often promised us eternal happiness, and in so many texts of Scripture so clearly explained, that He wishes us to be saved, that He must keep His promise, for He is eternal truth and cannot possible lie or deceive. (Hebr. vi. 18.) He says not yes today, and no tomorrow, there is no change in Him, nor shadow of alteration. (James i. 17.) The omnipotence of God, who can do “all that He pleases, whom no one can oppose or prevent from doing what He will; if now we have confidence in a rich and honest man who assures us, he will assist us in need, how much more should we hope in the best, most faithful, and all powerful God!
When should we make acts of hope?
As soon as we come to the use of reason and are sufficiently instructed concerning this virtue and its motives; in time of trouble or of severe temptation against this virtue; when receiving the holy Sacraments; every day in the morning or evening, and especially at the hour of death. The same things are to be observed in making acts of faith and of love. 
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isnotid · 5 years
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For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?                      - Shakespeare
I’ve been here for over a year, and although it’s not as though I’ve made a lot of friends, I have made a few.  Just a couple who seem to care about me about as much as anyone really has.  I’m not complaining of course.  I like it.  The problem is that even with the best of friends, there are still insecurities.  For some reason it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known each other, how often you see each other or even how often they compliment you.  Or maybe this is all just me.  I suppose that’s a possibility.  Every so often, I get a tugging feeling in the back of my mind, “Maybe they’re just being polite.”  “Maybe they’re only talking to me because they think I want to talk to them.”  “Should I ask them?”  “Would they tell me the truth if I did?”
I think the reason for all of this comes in that we are the only people who lives inside of our own heads.  I am the only person who knows all of my flaws.  I am the only person who knows all of the reasons why someone may not want to spend time with me.  At the same time,  I don’t know the ALL of the flaws of my friends.  I don’t know all of the reasons why I may not want to spend time with them, so our friends can seem too good for us.
Frankly, I don’t think there’s a comfortable solution to this.  The first thing to do is to realize that you are worth it.  You are amazing.  You are absolutely worthy of the friendship of those who spend time with you especially when you realize they could spend that time with anyone or doing anything. If that’s still not enough, ask said person about it.  To sit down and say, “well, I know this is stupid, but why do you spend time with me?”  I am certainly not saying this is easy.  If I did I’d be a hypocrite, but I think it’s something more people need to do today.  I think this is an important conversation to have in any relationship really.
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emmagreen1220-blog · 5 years
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New Post has been published on Literary Techniques
New Post has been published on https://literarytechniques.org/hyperbole-poems/
Hyperbole Poems
Hyperbole appears in poetry almost as often as metaphor. After all, to quote Wordsworth, poetry is “the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings” and powerful feelings ask for exaggerated language. However, bear in mind that the Romantics were much fonder of hyperbole than modern poets are. In fact, some of the latter argue that it is precisely because of this overuse of hyperbole that numerous 19th-century poems sound a bit melodramatic to today’s ears. See if you agree with this claim by going over our examples below.
10 Famous Poems with Hyperbole
#1: Dante Alighieri, Paradiso XXI.4-12 (1320)
She did not smile. ‘Were I to smile,’ she said, ‘You would be turned to ash, as Semele was when she saw Jupiter in his full Godhead;
because my beauty, which, as it goes higher from step to step of the eternal palace, burns, as you know, with ever brighter fire;
and if it is not tempered in its brightening, its radiance would consume your mortal powers as a bough is shattered by a bolt of lightning.’
(tr. John Ciardi)
As he discovers, level by level, the beauties of Paradise, Dante has the privilege of gazing upon ever more radiant and ethereal sights. However, his guide, his beloved Beatrice, is dazzling to start with—even while alive on Earth—and, apparently, her beauty “burns…with ever brighter fire” every step of the way. Naturally, Dante happens upon the same problem horror writers encounter: the inadequacy of language to describe such supernatural sights. So, he opts for the same solution as they do: an over-the-top hyperbole. As she explains to the poet In the XXI canto of Paradiso, Beatrice withholds her celestial beauty from the eyes of Dante—it is apparently “tempered in its brightening”—because, one smile of hers would be enough for Dante to be “shattered” as a bough is by a bolt of lightning; or, for that matter, as any mortal has ever been after even so much laying his eyes upon a deity. (Beatrice uses Semele as an allusion, but compare with the words of Yahweh to Moses in Exodus 33:20: “You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live”).
#2: Christopher Marlowe, Tamburlaine (1588)
I hold the Fates bound fast in iron chains, And with my hand turn Fortune’s wheel about; And sooner shall the sun fall from his sphere Than Tamburlaine be slain or overcome.
If Marlowe’s Helen was “the face that launched a thousand ships,” his Tamburlaine was the play which launched a thousand plays. The first popular success on the Elizabethan stage, Tamburlaine also features the first of English drama’s titanic want-it-all heroes, referred to usually as “over-reachers.” And it only fits that an over-reacher should use hyperboles in his speeches. In the four colossal verses above, notes Heinrich F. Plett in Oxford’s Encyclopedia of Rhetoric, “as is proper for a work of literature, the hyperbole appears as a mythological metaphor.” Majestic.
#3: William Shakespeare, King Lear I.1.54-60 (1606)
Sir, I love you more than word can wield the matter; Dearer than eye-sight, space and liberty; Beyond what can be valued rich or rare; No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; As much as a child e’er lov’d, or father found; A love that makes breath poor and speech unable; Beyond all manner of so much I love you.
At the beginning of William Shakespeare’s King Lear, the eponymous monarch makes one of the most bizarre decisions in the history of hereditary dynasties; namely, to divide his kingdom among his three daughters based on how much each of them loves him. Needless to say, It’s hyperbole-time! First comes Goneril, the “eldest-born,” and she doesn’t hold back on the exaggerations: there are many comparatives, superlatives and improbable claims made in the speech quoted in full above. Even so, Regan, Lear’s second daughter, is not impressed. “She comes too short,” she says, which in Shakespearean terms is the equivalent of “Yours was good, but mine will be better.” And it is: “I profess/ Myself an enemy to all other joys/ Which the most precious square of sense possesses,/ And find I am alone felicitate/ In your dear Highness’ love” (I.1.71-75). Now, how’s that for a hyperbole? (And also, as we learn later in the play, a blatant lie.)
#4: Ben Jonson, “To Celia” (1616)
Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss within the cup, And I’ll not ask for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove’s nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honoring thee As giving it a hope, that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent’st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee.
Ben Jonson’s most famous short poem, “To Celia,” is basically a string of hyperboles. Already the first—often misunderstood—verse is a beautiful metaphoric exaggeration: you can, say, drink to someone’s health with a cup of wine, but you can’t do it with your eyes; however, when you’re in love with someone, it certainly seems that you can. It also seems that you’d gladly trade a cup of wine for a kiss, even if the latter is not on your lips, but merely left on the empty glass; that’s the meaning of the third and fourth line of Jonson’s poem. He explains why in the four verses which follow. Namely, the thirst of his soul is greater than the thirst of his body, so he’d rather have an empty cup stained with a kiss of his beloved, than one full of nectar, the drink of the gods. This same hyperbolic tone permeates the second stanza as well, in which the poet swears that merely a breath of his beloved upon a rosy wreath he had sent her made the flowers smell of her. To put this elaborate hyperbole in a simpler and more conventional one: his loved one smells even more beautiful than the roses.
#5: Alexander Pope, Peri Bathous, or the Art of Sinking in Poetry (1728)
The silver whiteness that adorns thy neck, Sullies the plate, and makes the napkin black.
Nothing new: in his hilarious 1728 essay Peri Bathous, Pope ridicules the poetical and imaginative deficiencies of his contemporaries. Possibly the best part: chapters X and XI, in which he illustrates the ridiculous way in which the bad poets of his time use some literary devices. The couplet above, in Pope’s words, should serve as a courteously romantic description of a lady at dinner. However, it is so extravagantly hyperbolic (she is so white that the napkin seems black) that, instead of being romantic, it is actually comical. Pope lists quite a few similar examples, one of which (a description of misery) is almost as funny: “Behold a scene of misery and woe;/ Here Argus soon might weep himself quite blind,/ Ev’n though he had Briareus’ hundred hands/ To wipe those hundred eyes.” So impossibly over the top!
#6: Robert Service, “The Cremation of Sam McGee” (1907)
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
Sensational by definition, horror writers turn to hyperbole for effect remarkably often. Robert Service’s most famous poem, “The Cremation of Sam McGee,” is a great example of this. The above is the opening—and closing—stanza of it, and it already sets the tone for the rest. This is not merely a “queer” sight Service is about to recount, but “the queerest,” one “that would make your blood run cold;” note how the hyperbole is even more exaggerated by the personification of the Northern Lights. However, the narrator doesn’t stop here. Already in the second stanza, he says that “God only knows” why Sam McGee left Tennessee, and that, even though “the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell,” he hated the cold so much that he was often heard saying that “he’d sooner live in hell.” And, indeed, we are informed in the third stanza, in arguably even more hyperbolic manner, that the cold “stabbed like a driven nail” through the parkas of the gold diggers. Well, no wonder Sam was “ghastly pale” and “chilled clean through the bone”! There are a few more hyperboles in “The Cremation of Sam McGee;” read the poem and try to identify the rest.
#7: Edward Lear, A Book of Nonsense (1846)
There was an Old Man with a beard, Who said, ‘It is just as I feared! Two Owls and a Hen, Four Larks and a Wren, Have all built their nests in my beard!’
Edward Lear, “that crazy old Englishman,” is now primarily known for popularizing the form of the limerick and the genre of literary nonsense. The nonsensical effect in Lear’s limericks is often the result of a hyperbolic description; this can be easily evidenced already in the first poem of his first nonsense book, copied in full above. Just like Cyrano de Bergerac’s nose (see below), the beard of Lear’s Old Man is so, khm, distinguished, that no less than eight birds could fit a nest within it.
#8: Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac I.4 (1896)
Oh, no, young sir. You are too simple. Why, you might have said— Oh, a great many things! Mon Dieu, why waste Your opportunity? For example, thus:— AGGRESSIVE: I, sir, if that nose were mine, I’d have it amputated—on the spot. FRIENDLY: How do you drink with such a nose? You ought to have a cup made specially. DESCRIPTIVE: ‘Tis a rock, a crag, a cape! A cape? Say rather, a peninsula! INQUISITIVE: What is that receptacle? A razor-case or a portfolio? KINDLY: Ah, do you love the little birds So much that when they come to see you, You give them this to perch on. INSOLENT: Sir, when you smoke, the neighbors must suppose Your chimney is on fire. CAUTIOUS: Take care— A weight like that might make you top-heavy. THOUGHTFUL: Somebody fetch my parasol— Those delicate colors fade in the sun! PEDANTIC: Does not Aristophanes Mention a mythological monster called Hippocamp-elephanto-camelos? Surely we have here the original! FAMILIAR: Well, old torchlight! Hang your hat Over that chandelier—it hurts my eyes. ELOQUENT: When it blows, the typhoon howls, And the clouds darken! DRAMATIC: When it bleeds— The Red Sea!
In Cyrano de Bergerac, Edmond Rostand’s marvelous play, the title character is an impetuous, iron-willed French soldier of many talents. However, he is also awfully self-conscious on the part of his “rather large nose.” And that’s exactly how his enemy, Viscount Valvert, describes it in the fourth scene of the first act of the play. Cyrano replies with the unforgettable speech above, basically forcing Valvert to insult him in a more proper manner. As you can observe even at first glance, the speech is an almost textbook example of the various ways one can hyperbolize a description. And note that the above is merely an abridged version: we haven’t included the simple or the military account, the respectful or the literary version. The bottom line: when you want to insult someone, don’t hesitate to use hyperboles, because mere description just won’t do; it lacks the most important aspect: the emotional excess.
#9: Hilaire Belloc, “Matilda” (1907)
Matilda told such Dreadful Lies, It made one Gasp and Stretch one’s Eyes; Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth, Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth, Attempted to believe Matilda: The effort very nearly killed her, And would have done so, had not she Discovered this Infirmity.
Children respond to hyperboles much more emphatically than they do to realistic, descriptive language. That is why most cartoons are littered with images of excessive violence; ironically, it is the exaggeration which makes the violence more palatable, and the message more graspable. Even though this practice goes way back to the cautionary tales present in the folklore of most nations, it was first popularized by a German psychiatrist named Heinrich Hoffmann, whose 1845 children’s book, Struwwelpeter (or, Shock-headed Peter) is a series of rhyming tales with a moral which the author regularly demonstrates by exaggerating the consequences of misbehavior. Hilaire Belloc parodied the genre in his Cautionary Tales for Children, as evidenced by the full title of the poem excerpted above: “Matilda, Who Told Lies, and Was Burned to Death.” In the opening stanza we are informed that Matilda’s lies are not only “gaspingly” and “eye-stretchingly” dreadful, but that they would have also killed her aunt if she only believed them!
#10: Dorothy Parker, “Comment” (August 16, 1925)
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of contemporanea: And love is a thing that can never go wrong; And I am Marie of Roumania.
Two-time Academy Award-nominee Dorothy Parker was an American poet, critic and satirist who justly enjoys the reputation as one of the greatest wits and wisecrackers of the 20th century. For example, upon being told that Calvin Coolidge, the 30th US President, had passed away, commenting on his stiffness and taciturnity, Parker immediately replied: “How can they tell?” That’s a great hyperbolic remark in itself, but the one-stanza poem quoted here is, arguably, even better. After paraphrasing two conventional exaggerations (“life is a glorious cycle of song” and “love is a thing that can never go wrong”), Parker adds another one “I am Marie of Roumania.” However, since this last line is obviously ironic—i.e., she is most certainly not Marie of Romania—the reader is invited to revisit the previous two hyperboles and realize that Parker is, in fact, cynical. Thanks to this poem, the phrase “And I am Maria of Romania” is now regularly used when someone wishes to express disbelief (it is similar to another ironic hyperbole of the type: “Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England!”)
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allxthatxisxlost · 6 years
Note
“For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?” - Talharin
Meme: Shakespeare Edition
@oftheothcrworld { Talharin }
“That you understand,” she answers without hesitation.
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“I don’t know that I would necessarily call it a ‘bad part’. But then, I don’t think you have any. Not like you think you do, at least…” 
How clear it is that she means those words. As much for them having been uttered––for even one in the greys betwixt Seelie and Unseelie cannot lie––as for the way she looks at him when she says it before looking away once more out at the stars. It’s easier to speak that way. Easier to say what she thinks when she can say it as though he isn’t there.
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“Only that… You’ve lived in the darkness, too. You’ve done what it takes to survive and you understand… So I suppose it was how we’re alike…” 
Her brow furrows then, perhaps in focus as she attempts to put her thoughts together in a way that will make sense to him. 
“And yet… also for how we are different. For all the shadows that have danced around you, for all the monsters who have hurt you, for all of the times I see you wonder if you are a monster……”
Only a moment later, she turns to look at him and there again is that gentleness that she only ever shows to him.
“… You’re not. You’re not of the darkness; you simply choose to exist in it to give others light and hope. You’re not a monster; you simply pretend to be to keep others safe… No matter how scarred or broken and pieced back together…” 
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“You still have a beautiful heart… You’re still beautiful…”
There is no quip that follows. No joke. No smirk. Only dark eyes that are a little misty and full of sincerity.
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readbookywooks · 7 years
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Mean while the heinous and despiteful act Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve, Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit, Was known in Heaven; for what can 'scape the eye Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart Omniscient? who, in all things wise and just, Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind Of Man, with strength entire and free will armed, Complete to have discovered and repulsed Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. For still they knew, and ought to have still remembered, The high injunction, not to taste that fruit, Whoever tempted; which they not obeying, (Incurred what could they less?) the penalty; And, manifold in sin, deserved to fall. Up into Heaven from Paradise in haste The angelick guards ascended, mute, and sad, For Man; for of his state by this they knew, Much wondering how the subtle Fiend had stolen Entrance unseen.  Soon as the unwelcome news From Earth arrived at Heaven-gate, displeased All were who heard; dim sadness did not spare That time celestial visages, yet, mixed With pity, violated not their bliss. About the new-arrived, in multitudes The ethereal people ran, to hear and know How all befel:  They towards the throne supreme, Accountable, made haste, to make appear, With righteous plea, their utmost vigilance And easily approved; when the Most High Eternal Father, from his secret cloud, Amidst in thunder uttered thus his voice. Assembled Angels, and ye Powers returned From unsuccessful charge; be not dismayed, Nor troubled at these tidings from the earth, Which your sincerest care could not prevent; Foretold so lately what would come to pass, When first this tempter crossed the gulf from Hell. I told ye then he should prevail, and speed On his bad errand; Man should be seduced, And flattered out of all, believing lies Against his Maker; no decree of mine Concurring to necessitate his fall, Or touch with lightest moment of impulse His free will, to her own inclining left In even scale.  But fallen he is; and now What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass On his transgression,--death denounced that day? Which he presumes already vain and void, Because not yet inflicted, as he feared, By some immediate stroke; but soon shall find Forbearance no acquittance, ere day end. Justice shall not return as bounty scorned. But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee, Vicegerent Son?  To thee I have transferred All judgement, whether in Heaven, or Earth, or Hell. Easy it may be seen that I intend Mercy colleague with justice, sending thee Man's friend, his Mediator, his designed Both ransom and Redeemer voluntary, And destined Man himself to judge Man fallen. So spake the Father; and, unfolding bright Toward the right hand his glory, on the Son Blazed forth unclouded Deity: He full Resplendent all his Father manifest Expressed, and thus divinely answered mild. Father Eternal, thine is to decree; Mine, both in Heaven and Earth, to do thy will Supreme; that thou in me, thy Son beloved, Mayest ever rest well pleased.  I go to judge On earth these thy transgressours; but thou knowest, Whoever judged, the worst on me must light, When time shall be; for so I undertook Before thee; and, not repenting, this obtain Of right, that I may mitigate their doom On me derived; yet I shall temper so Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most Them fully satisfied, and thee appease. Attendance none shall need, nor train, where none Are to behold the judgement, but the judged, Those two; the third best absent is condemned, Convict by flight, and rebel to all law: Conviction to the serpent none belongs. Thus saying, from his radiant seat he rose Of high collateral glory: Him Thrones, and Powers, Princedoms, and Dominations ministrant, Accompanied to Heaven-gate; from whence Eden, and all the coast, in prospect lay. Down he descended straight; the speed of Gods Time counts not, though with swiftest minutes winged. Now was the sun in western cadence low From noon, and gentle airs, due at their hour, To fan the earth now waked, and usher in The evening cool; when he, from wrath more cool, Came the mild Judge, and Intercessour both, To sentence Man:  The voice of God they heard Now walking in the garden, by soft winds Brought to their ears, while day declined; they heard, And from his presence hid themselves among The thickest trees, both man and wife; till God, Approaching, thus to Adam called aloud. Where art thou, Adam, wont with joy to meet My coming seen far off?  I miss thee here, Not pleased, thus entertained with solitude, Where obvious duty ere while appeared unsought: Or come I less conspicuous, or what change Absents thee, or what chance detains?--Come forth! He came; and with him Eve, more loth, though first To offend; discountenanced both, and discomposed; Love was not in their looks, either to God, Or to each other; but apparent guilt, And shame, and perturbation, and despair, Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile. Whence Adam, faltering long, thus answered brief. I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice Afraid, being naked, hid myself.  To whom The gracious Judge without revile replied. My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not feared, But still rejoiced; how is it now become So dreadful to thee?  That thou art naked, who Hath told thee?  Hast thou eaten of the tree, Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat? To whom thus Adam sore beset replied. O Heaven! in evil strait this day I stand Before my Judge; either to undergo Myself the total crime, or to accuse My other self, the partner of my life; Whose failing, while her faith to me remains, I should conceal, and not expose to blame By my complaint: but strict necessity Subdues me, and calamitous constraint; Lest on my head both sin and punishment, However insupportable, be all Devolved; though should I hold my peace, yet thou Wouldst easily detect what I conceal.-- This Woman, whom thou madest to be my help, And gavest me as thy perfect gift, so good, So fit, so acceptable, so divine, That from her hand I could suspect no ill, And what she did, whatever in itself, Her doing seemed to justify the deed; She gave me of the tree, and I did eat. To whom the Sovran Presence thus replied. Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey Before his voice? or was she made thy guide, Superiour, or but equal, that to her Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place Wherein God set thee above her made of thee, And for thee, whose perfection far excelled Hers in all real dignity?  Adorned She was indeed, and lovely, to attract Thy love, not thy subjection; and her gifts Were such, as under government well seemed; Unseemly to bear rule; which was thy part And person, hadst thou known thyself aright. So having said, he thus to Eve in few. Say, Woman, what is this which thou hast done? To whom sad Eve, with shame nigh overwhelmed, Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge Bold or loquacious, thus abashed replied. The Serpent me beguiled, and I did eat. Which when the Lord God heard, without delay To judgement he proceeded on the accused Serpent, though brute; unable to transfer The guilt on him, who made him instrument Of mischief, and polluted from the end Of his creation; justly then accursed, As vitiated in nature:  More to know Concerned not Man, (since he no further knew) Nor altered his offence; yet God at last To Satan first in sin his doom applied, Though in mysterious terms, judged as then best: And on the Serpent thus his curse let fall. Because thou hast done this, thou art accursed Above all cattle, each beast of the field; Upon thy belly groveling thou shalt go, And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life. Between thee and the woman I will put Enmity, and between thine and her seed; Her seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel. So spake this oracle, then verified When Jesus, Son of Mary, second Eve, Saw Satan fall, like lightning, down from Heaven, Prince of the air; then, rising from his grave Spoiled Principalities and Powers, triumphed In open show; and, with ascension bright, Captivity led captive through the air, The realm itself of Satan, long usurped; Whom he shall tread at last under our feet; Even he, who now foretold his fatal bruise; And to the Woman thus his sentence turned. Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply By thy conception; children thou shalt bring In sorrow forth; and to thy husband's will Thine shall submit; he over thee shall rule. On Adam last thus judgement he pronounced. Because thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy wife, And eaten of the tree, concerning which I charged thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat thereof: Cursed is the ground for thy sake; thou in sorrow Shalt eat thereof, all the days of thy life; Thorns also and thistles it shall bring thee forth Unbid; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field; In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, Till thou return unto the ground; for thou Out of the ground wast taken, know thy birth, For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return. So judged he Man, both Judge and Saviour sent; And the instant stroke of death, denounced that day, Removed far off; then, pitying how they stood Before him naked to the air, that now Must suffer change, disdained not to begin Thenceforth the form of servant to assume; As when he washed his servants feet; so now, As father of his family, he clad Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slain, Or as the snake with youthful coat repaid; And thought not much to clothe his enemies; Nor he their outward only with the skins Of beasts, but inward nakedness, much more. Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness, Arraying, covered from his Father's sight. To him with swift ascent he up returned, Into his blissful bosom reassumed In glory, as of old; to him appeased All, though all-knowing, what had passed with Man Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. Mean while, ere thus was sinned and judged on Earth, Within the gates of Hell sat Sin and Death, In counterview within the gates, that now Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame Far into Chaos, since the Fiend passed through, Sin opening; who thus now to Death began. O Son, why sit we here each other viewing Idly, while Satan, our great author, thrives In other worlds, and happier seat provides For us, his offspring dear?  It cannot be But that success attends him; if mishap, Ere this he had returned, with fury driven By his avengers; since no place like this Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. Methinks I feel new strength within me rise, Wings growing, and dominion given me large Beyond this deep; whatever draws me on, Or sympathy, or some connatural force, Powerful at greatest distance to unite, With secret amity, things of like kind, By secretest conveyance.  Thou, my shade Inseparable, must with me along; For Death from Sin no power can separate. But, lest the difficulty of passing back Stay his return perhaps over this gulf Impassable, impervious; let us try Adventurous work, yet to thy power and mine Not unagreeable, to found a path Over this main from Hell to that new world, Where Satan now prevails; a monument Of merit high to all the infernal host, Easing their passage hence, for intercourse, Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead. Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn By this new-felt attraction and instinct. Whom thus the meager Shadow answered soon. Go, whither Fate, and inclination strong, Leads thee; I shall not lag behind, nor err The way, thou leading; such a scent I draw Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste The savour of death from all things there that live: Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid. So saying, with delight he snuffed the smell Of mortal change on earth.  As when a flock Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote, Against the day of battle, to a field, Where armies lie encamped, come flying, lured With scent of living carcasses designed For death, the following day, in bloody fight: So scented the grim Feature, and upturned His nostril wide into the murky air; Sagacious of his quarry from so far. Then both from out Hell-gates, into the waste Wide anarchy of Chaos, damp and dark, Flew diverse; and with power (their power was great) Hovering upon the waters, what they met Solid or slimy, as in raging sea Tost up and down, together crouded drove, From each side shoaling towards the mouth of Hell; As when two polar winds, blowing adverse Upon the Cronian sea, together drive Mountains of ice, that stop the imagined way Beyond Petsora eastward, to the rich Cathaian coast.  The aggregated soil Death with his mace petrifick, cold and dry, As with a trident, smote; and fixed as firm As Delos, floating once; the rest his look Bound with Gorgonian rigour not to move; And with Asphaltick slime, broad as the gate, Deep to the roots of Hell the gathered beach They fastened, and the mole immense wrought on Over the foaming deep high-arched, a bridge Of length prodigious, joining to the wall Immoveable of this now fenceless world, Forfeit to Death; from hence a passage broad, Smooth, easy, inoffensive, down to Hell. So, if great things to small may be compared, Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke, From Susa, his Memnonian palace high, Came to the sea: and, over Hellespont Bridging his way, Europe with Asia joined, And scourged with many a stroke the indignant waves. Now had they brought the work by wonderous art Pontifical, a ridge of pendant rock, Over the vexed abyss, following the track Of Satan to the self-same place where he First lighted from his wing, and landed safe From out of Chaos, to the outside bare Of this round world:  With pins of adamant And chains they made all fast, too fast they made And durable!  And now in little space The confines met of empyrean Heaven, And of this World; and, on the left hand, Hell With long reach interposed; three several ways In sight, to each of these three places led. And now their way to Earth they had descried, To Paradise first tending; when, behold! Satan, in likeness of an Angel bright, Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion steering His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose: Disguised he came; but those his children dear Their parent soon discerned, though in disguise. He, after Eve seduced, unminded slunk Into the wood fast by; and, changing shape, To observe the sequel, saw his guileful act By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded Upon her husband; saw their shame that sought Vain covertures; but when he saw descend The Son of God to judge them, terrified He fled; not hoping to escape, but shun The present; fearing, guilty, what his wrath Might suddenly inflict; that past, returned By night, and listening where the hapless pair Sat in their sad discourse, and various plaint, Thence gathered his own doom; which understood Not instant, but of future time, with joy And tidings fraught, to Hell he now returned; And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot Of this new wonderous pontifice, unhoped Met, who to meet him came, his offspring dear. Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight Of that stupendious bridge his joy encreased. Long he admiring stood, till Sin, his fair Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke. O Parent, these are thy magnifick deeds, Thy trophies! which thou viewest as not thine own; Thou art their author, and prime architect: For I no sooner in my heart divined, My heart, which by a secret harmony Still moves with thine, joined in connexion sweet, That thou on earth hadst prospered, which thy looks Now also evidence, but straight I felt, Though distant from thee worlds between, yet felt, That I must after thee, with this thy son; Such fatal consequence unites us three! Hell could no longer hold us in our bounds, Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure Detain from following thy illustrious track. Thou hast achieved our liberty, confined Within Hell-gates till now; thou us impowered To fortify thus far, and overlay, With this portentous bridge, the dark abyss. Thine now is all this world; thy virtue hath won What thy hands builded not; thy wisdom gained With odds what war hath lost, and fully avenged Our foil in Heaven; here thou shalt monarch reign, There didst not; there let him still victor sway, As battle hath adjudged; from this new world Retiring, by his own doom alienated; And henceforth monarchy with thee divide Of all things, parted by the empyreal bounds, His quadrature, from thy orbicular world; Or try thee now more dangerous to his throne. Whom thus the Prince of darkness answered glad. Fair Daughter, and thou Son and Grandchild both; High proof ye now have given to be the race Of Satan (for I glory in the name, Antagonist of Heaven's Almighty King,) Amply have merited of me, of all The infernal empire, that so near Heaven's door Triumphal with triumphal act have met, Mine, with this glorious work; and made one realm, Hell and this world, one realm, one continent Of easy thorough-fare.  Therefore, while I Descend through darkness, on your road with ease, To my associate Powers, them to acquaint With these successes, and with them rejoice; You two this way, among these numerous orbs, All yours, right down to Paradise descend; There dwell, and reign in bliss; thence on the earth Dominion exercise and in the air, Chiefly on Man, sole lord of all declared; Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill. My substitutes I send ye, and create Plenipotent on earth, of matchless might Issuing from me: on your joint vigour now My hold of this new kingdom all depends, Through Sin to Death exposed by my exploit. If your joint power prevail, the affairs of Hell No detriment need fear; go, and be strong! So saying he dismissed them; they with speed Their course through thickest constellations held, Spreading their bane; the blasted stars looked wan, And planets, planet-struck, real eclipse Then suffered.  The other way Satan went down The causey to Hell-gate:  On either side Disparted Chaos overbuilt exclaimed, And with rebounding surge the bars assailed, That scorned his indignation:  Through the gate, Wide open and unguarded, Satan passed, And all about found desolate; for those, Appointed to sit there, had left their charge, Flown to the upper world; the rest were all Far to the inland retired, about the walls Of Pandemonium; city and proud seat Of Lucifer, so by allusion called Of that bright star to Satan paragoned; There kept their watch the legions, while the Grand In council sat, solicitous what chance Might intercept their emperour sent; so he Departing gave command, and they observed. As when the Tartar from his Russian foe, By Astracan, over the snowy plains, Retires; or Bactrin Sophi, from the horns Of Turkish crescent, leaves all waste beyond The realm of Aladule, in his retreat To Tauris or Casbeen:  So these, the late Heaven-banished host, left desart utmost Hell Many a dark league, reduced in careful watch Round their metropolis; and now expecting Each hour their great adventurer, from the search Of foreign worlds:  He through the midst unmarked, In show plebeian Angel militant Of lowest order, passed; and from the door Of that Plutonian hall, invisible Ascended his high throne; which, under state Of richest texture spread, at the upper end Was placed in regal lustre.  Down a while He sat, and round about him saw unseen: At last, as from a cloud, his fulgent head And shape star-bright appeared, or brighter; clad With what permissive glory since his fall Was left him, or false glitter:  All amazed At that so sudden blaze the Stygian throng Bent their aspect, and whom they wished beheld, Their mighty Chief returned: loud was the acclaim: Forth rushed in haste the great consulting peers, Raised from their dark Divan, and with like joy Congratulant approached him; who with hand Silence, and with these words attention, won. Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers; For in possession such, not only of right, I call ye, and declare ye now; returned Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth Triumphant out of this infernal pit Abominable, accursed, the house of woe, And dungeon of our tyrant:  Now possess, As Lords, a spacious world, to our native Heaven Little inferiour, by my adventure hard With peril great achieved.  Long were to tell What I have done; what suffered;with what pain Voyaged th' unreal, vast, unbounded deep Of horrible confusion; over which By Sin and Death a broad way now is paved, To expedite your glorious march; but I Toiled out my uncouth passage, forced to ride The untractable abyss, plunged in the womb Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wild; That, jealous of their secrets, fiercely opposed My journey strange, with clamorous uproar Protesting Fate supreme; thence how I found The new created world, which fame in Heaven Long had foretold, a fabrick wonderful Of absolute perfection! therein Man Placed in a Paradise, by our exile Made happy:  Him by fraud I have seduced From his Creator; and, the more to encrease Your wonder, with an apple; he, thereat Offended, worth your laughter! hath given up Both his beloved Man, and all his world, To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, Without our hazard, labour, or alarm; To range in, and to dwell, and over Man To rule, as over all he should have ruled. True is, me also he hath judged, or rather Me not, but the brute serpent in whose shape Man I deceived: that which to me belongs, Is enmity which he will put between Me and mankind; I am to bruise his heel; His seed, when is not set, shall bruise my head: A world who would not purchase with a bruise, Or much more grievous pain?--Ye have the account Of my performance:  What remains, ye Gods, But up, and enter now into full bliss? So having said, a while he stood, expecting Their universal shout, and high applause, To fill his ear; when, contrary, he hears On all sides, from innumerable tongues, A dismal universal hiss, the sound Of publick scorn; he wondered, but not long Had leisure, wondering at himself now more, His visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare; His arms clung to his ribs; his legs entwining Each other, till supplanted down he fell A monstrous serpent on his belly prone, Reluctant, but in vain; a greater power Now ruled him, punished in the shape he sinned, According to his doom: he would have spoke, But hiss for hiss returned with forked tongue To forked tongue; for now were all transformed Alike, to serpents all, as accessories To his bold riot:  Dreadful was the din Of hissing through the hall, thick swarming now With complicated monsters head and tail, Scorpion, and Asp, and Amphisbaena dire, Cerastes horned, Hydrus, and Elops drear, And Dipsas; (not so thick swarmed once the soil Bedropt with blood of Gorgon, or the isle Ophiusa,) but still greatest he the midst, Now Dragon grown, larger than whom the sun Ingendered in the Pythian vale or slime, Huge Python, and his power no less he seemed Above the rest still to retain; they all Him followed, issuing forth to the open field, Where all yet left of that revolted rout, Heaven-fallen, in station stood or just array; Sublime with expectation when to see In triumph issuing forth their glorious Chief; They saw, but other sight instead! a croud Of ugly serpents; horrour on them fell, And horrid sympathy; for, what they saw, They felt themselves, now changing; down their arms, Down fell both spear and shield; down they as fast; And the dire hiss renewed, and the dire form Catched, by contagion; like in punishment, As in their crime.  Thus was the applause they meant, Turned to exploding hiss, triumph to shame Cast on themselves from their own mouths.  There stood A grove hard by, sprung up with this their change, His will who reigns above, to aggravate Their penance, laden with fair fruit, like that Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve Used by the Tempter: on that prospect strange Their earnest eyes they fixed, imagining For one forbidden tree a multitude Now risen, to work them further woe or shame; Yet, parched with scalding thirst and hunger fierce, Though to delude them sent, could not abstain; But on they rolled in heaps, and, up the trees Climbing, sat thicker than the snaky locks That curled Megaera: greedily they plucked The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed; This more delusive, not the touch, but taste Deceived; they, fondly thinking to allay Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit Chewed bitter ashes, which the offended taste With spattering noise rejected: oft they assayed, Hunger and thirst constraining; drugged as oft, With hatefullest disrelish writhed their jaws, With soot and cinders filled; so oft they fell Into the same illusion, not as Man Whom they triumphed once lapsed.  Thus were they plagued And worn with famine, long and ceaseless hiss, Till their lost shape, permitted, they resumed; Yearly enjoined, some say, to undergo, This annual humbling certain numbered days, To dash their pride, and joy, for Man seduced. However, some tradition they dispersed Among the Heathen, of their purchase got, And fabled how the Serpent, whom they called Ophion, with Eurynome, the wide-- Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule Of high Olympus; thence by Saturn driven And Ops, ere yet Dictaean Jove was born. Mean while in Paradise the hellish pair Too soon arrived; Sin, there in power before, Once actual; now in body, and to dwell Habitual habitant; behind her Death, Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet On his pale horse: to whom Sin thus began. Second of Satan sprung, all-conquering Death! What thinkest thou of our empire now, though earned With travel difficult, not better far Than still at Hell's dark threshold to have sat watch, Unnamed, undreaded, and thyself half starved? Whom thus the Sin-born monster answered soon. To me, who with eternal famine pine, Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven; There best, where most with ravine I may meet; Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems To stuff this maw, this vast unhide-bound corps. To whom the incestuous mother thus replied. Thou therefore on these herbs, and fruits, and flowers, Feed first; on each beast next, and fish, and fowl; No homely morsels! and, whatever thing The sithe of Time mows down, devour unspared; Till I, in Man residing, through the race, His thoughts, his looks, words, actions, all infect; And season him thy last and sweetest prey. This said, they both betook them several ways, Both to destroy, or unimmortal make All kinds, and for destruction to mature Sooner or later; which the Almighty seeing, From his transcendent seat the Saints among, To those bright Orders uttered thus his voice. See, with what heat these dogs of Hell advance To waste and havock yonder world, which I So fair and good created; and had still Kept in that state, had not the folly of Man Let in these wasteful furies, who impute Folly to me; so doth the Prince of Hell And his adherents, that with so much ease I suffer them to enter and possess A place so heavenly; and, conniving, seem To gratify my scornful enemies, That laugh, as if, transported with some fit Of passion, I to them had quitted all, At random yielded up to their misrule; And know not that I called, and drew them thither, My Hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth Which Man's polluting sin with taint hath shed On what was pure; til, crammed and gorged, nigh burst With sucked and glutted offal, at one sling Of thy victorious arm, well-pleasing Son, Both Sin, and Death, and yawning Grave, at last, Through Chaos hurled, obstruct the mouth of Hell For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws. Then Heaven and Earth renewed shall be made pure To sanctity, that shall receive no stain: Till then, the curse pronounced on both precedes. He ended, and the heavenly audience loud Sung Halleluiah, as the sound of seas, Through multitude that sung:  Just are thy ways, Righteous are thy decrees on all thy works; Who can extenuate thee?  Next, to the Son, Destined Restorer of mankind, by whom New Heaven and Earth shall to the ages rise, Or down from Heaven descend.--Such was their song; While the Creator, calling forth by name His mighty Angels, gave them several charge, As sorted best with present things.  The sun Had first his precept so to move, so shine, As might affect the earth with cold and heat Scarce tolerable; and from the north to call Decrepit winter; from the south to bring Solstitial summer's heat.  To the blanc moon Her office they prescribed; to the other five Their planetary motions, and aspects, In sextile, square, and trine, and opposite, Of noxious efficacy, and when to join In synod unbenign; and taught the fixed Their influence malignant when to shower, Which of them rising with the sun, or falling, Should prove tempestuous:  To the winds they set Their corners, when with bluster to confound Sea, air, and shore; the thunder when to roll With terrour through the dark aereal hall. Some say, he bid his Angels turn ascanse The poles of earth, twice ten degrees and more, From the sun's axle; they with labour pushed Oblique the centrick globe:  Some say, the sun Was bid turn reins from the equinoctial road Like distant breadth to Taurus with the seven Atlantick Sisters, and the Spartan Twins, Up to the Tropick Crab: thence down amain By Leo, and the Virgin, and the Scales, As deep as Capricorn; to bring in change Of seasons to each clime; else had the spring Perpetual smiled on earth with vernant flowers, Equal in days and nights, except to those Beyond the polar circles; to them day Had unbenighted shone, while the low sun, To recompense his distance, in their sight Had rounded still the horizon, and not known Or east or west; which had forbid the snow From cold Estotiland, and south as far Beneath Magellan.  At that tasted fruit The sun, as from Thyestean banquet, turned His course intended; else, how had the world Inhabited, though sinless, more than now, Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat? These changes in the Heavens, though slow, produced Like change on sea and land; sideral blast, Vapour, and mist, and exhalation hot, Corrupt and pestilent:  Now from the north Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shore, Bursting their brazen dungeon, armed with ice, And snow, and hail, and stormy gust and flaw, Boreas, and Caecias, and Argestes loud, And Thrascias, rend the woods, and seas upturn; With adverse blast upturns them from the south Notus, and Afer black with thunderous clouds From Serraliona; thwart of these, as fierce, Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent winds, Eurus and Zephyr, with their lateral noise, Sirocco and Libecchio.  Thus began Outrage from lifeless things; but Discord first, Daughter of Sin, among the irrational Death introduced, through fierce antipathy: Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl, And fish with fish; to graze the herb all leaving, Devoured each other; nor stood much in awe Of Man, but fled him; or, with countenance grim, Glared on him passing.  These were from without The growing miseries, which Adam saw Already in part, though hid in gloomiest shade, To sorrow abandoned, but worse felt within; And, in a troubled sea of passion tost, Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint. O miserable of happy!  Is this the end Of this new glorious world, and me so late The glory of that glory, who now become Accursed, of blessed? hide me from the face Of God, whom to behold was then my highth Of happiness!--Yet well, if here would end The misery; I deserved it, and would bear My own deservings; but this will not serve: All that I eat or drink, or shall beget, Is propagated curse.  O voice, once heard Delightfully, Encrease and multiply; Now death to hear! for what can I encrease, Or multiply, but curses on my head? Who of all ages to succeed, but, feeling The evil on him brought by me, will curse My head?  Ill fare our ancestor impure, For this we may thank Adam! but his thanks Shall be the execration: so, besides Mine own that bide upon me, all from me Shall with a fierce reflux on me rebound; On me, as on their natural center, light Heavy, though in their place.  O fleeting joys Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes! Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me Man? did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me, or here place In this delicious garden?  As my will Concurred not to my being, it were but right And equal to reduce me to my dust; Desirous to resign and render back All I received; unable to perform Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold The good I sought not.  To the loss of that, Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added The sense of endless woes?  Inexplicable Why am I mocked with death, and lengthened out To deathless pain?  How gladly would I meet Mortality my sentence, and be earth Insensible!  How glad would lay me down As in my mother's lap!  There I should rest, And sleep secure; his dreadful voice no more Would thunder in my ears; no fear of worse To me, and to my offspring, would torment me With cruel expectation.  Yet one doubt Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die; Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of Man Which God inspired, cannot together perish With this corporeal clod; then, in the grave, Or in some other dismal place, who knows But I shall die a living death?  O thought Horrid, if true!  Yet why? It was but breath Of life that sinned; what dies but what had life And sin?  The body properly had neither, All of me then shall die: let this appease The doubt, since human reach no further knows. For though the Lord of all be infinite, Is his wrath also?  Be it, Man is not so, But mortal doomed.  How can he exercise Wrath without end on Man, whom death must end? Can he make deathless death?  That were to make Strange contradiction, which to God himself Impossible is held; as argument Of weakness, not of power.  Will he draw out, For anger's sake, finite to infinite, In punished Man, to satisfy his rigour, Satisfied never?  That were to extend His sentence beyond dust and Nature's law; By which all causes else, according still To the reception of their matter, act; Not to the extent of their own sphere.  But say That death be not one stroke, as I supposed, Bereaving sense, but endless misery From this day onward; which I feel begun Both in me, and without me; and so last To perpetuity;--Ay me!that fear Comes thundering back with dreadful revolution On my defenceless head; both Death and I Am found eternal, and incorporate both; Nor I on my part single; in me all Posterity stands cursed:  Fair patrimony That I must leave ye, Sons!  O, were I able To waste it all myself, and leave ye none! So disinherited, how would you bless Me, now your curse!  Ah, why should all mankind, For one man's fault, thus guiltless be condemned, It guiltless?  But from me what can proceed, But all corrupt; both mind and will depraved Not to do only, but to will the same With me?  How can they then acquitted stand In sight of God?  Him, after all disputes, Forced I absolve: all my evasions vain, And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still But to my own conviction: first and last On me, me only, as the source and spring Of all corruption, all the blame lights due; So might the wrath!  Fond wish!couldst thou support That burden, heavier than the earth to bear; Than all the world much heavier, though divided With that bad Woman?  Thus, what thou desirest, And what thou fearest, alike destroys all hope Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable Beyond all past example and future; To Satan only like both crime and doom. O Conscience! into what abyss of fears And horrours hast thou driven me; out of which I find no way, from deep to deeper plunged! Thus Adam to himself lamented loud, Through the still night; not now, as ere Man fell, Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black air Accompanied; with damps, and dreadful gloom; Which to his evil conscience represented All things with double terrour:  On the ground Outstretched he lay, on the cold ground; and oft Cursed his creation;  Death as oft accused Of tardy execution, since denounced The day of his offence.  Why comes not Death, Said he, with one thrice-acceptable stroke To end me?  Shall Truth fail to keep her word, Justice Divine not hasten to be just? But Death comes not at call; Justice Divine Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries, O woods, O fountains, hillocks, dales, and bowers! With other echo late I taught your shades To answer, and resound far other song.-- Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld, Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh, Soft words to his fierce passion she assayed: But her with stern regard he thus repelled. Out of my sight, thou Serpent!  That name best Befits thee with him leagued, thyself as false And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape, Like his, and colour serpentine, may show Thy inward fraud; to warn all creatures from thee Henceforth; lest that too heavenly form, pretended To hellish falshood, snare them!  But for thee I had persisted happy; had not thy pride And wandering vanity, when least was safe, Rejected my forewarning, and disdained Not to be trusted; longing to be seen, Though by the Devil himself; him overweening To over-reach; but, with the serpent meeting, Fooled and beguiled; by him thou, I by thee To trust thee from my side; imagined wise, Constant, mature, proof against all assaults; And understood not all was but a show, Rather than solid virtue; all but a rib Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, More to the part sinister, from me drawn; Well if thrown out, as supernumerary To my just number found.  O! why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest Heaven With Spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on earth, this fair defect Of nature, and not fill the world at once With Men, as Angels, without feminine; Or find some other way to generate Mankind?  This mischief had not been befallen, And more that shall befall; innumerable Disturbances on earth through female snares, And strait conjunction with this sex: for either He never shall find out fit mate, but such As some misfortune brings him, or mistake; Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain Through her perverseness, but shall see her gained By a far worse; or, if she love, withheld By parents; or his happiest choice too late Shall meet, already linked and wedlock-bound To a fell adversary, his hate or shame: Which infinite calamity shall cause To human life, and houshold peace confound. He added not, and from her turned; but Eve, Not so repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing And tresses all disordered, at his feet Fell humble; and, embracing them, besought His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint. Forsake me not thus, Adam! witness Heaven What love sincere, and reverence in my heart I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, Unhappily deceived!  Thy suppliant I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not, Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, Thy counsel, in this uttermost distress, My only strength and stay:  Forlorn of thee, Whither shall I betake me, where subsist? While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, Between us two let there be peace; both joining, As joined in injuries, one enmity Against a foe by doom express assigned us, That cruel Serpent:  On me exercise not Thy hatred for this misery befallen; On me already lost, me than thyself More miserable!  Both have sinned;but thou Against God only; I against God and thee; And to the place of judgement will return, There with my cries importune Heaven; that all The sentence, from thy head removed, may light On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe; Me, me only, just object of his ire! She ended weeping; and her lowly plight, Immoveable, till peace obtained from fault Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought Commiseration:  Soon his heart relented Towards her, his life so late, and sole delight, Now at his feet submissive in distress; Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking, His counsel, whom she had displeased, his aid: As one disarmed, his anger all he lost, And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon. Unwary, and too desirous, as before, So now of what thou knowest not, who desirest The punishment all on thyself; alas! Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain His full wrath, whose thou feelest as yet least part, And my displeasure bearest so ill.  If prayers Could alter high decrees, I to that place Would speed before thee, and be louder heard, That on my head all might be visited; Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven, To me committed, and by me exposed. But rise;--let us no more contend, nor blame Each other, blamed enough elsewhere; but strive In offices of love, how we may lighten Each other's burden, in our share of woe; Since this day's death denounced, if aught I see, Will prove no sudden, but a slow-paced evil; A long day's dying, to augment our pain; And to our seed (O hapless seed!) derived. To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied. Adam, by sad experiment I know How little weight my words with thee can find, Found so erroneous; thence by just event Found so unfortunate:  Nevertheless, Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart Living or dying, from thee I will not hide What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen, Tending to some relief of our extremes, Or end; though sharp and sad, yet tolerable, As in our evils, and of easier choice. If care of our descent perplex us most, Which must be born to certain woe, devoured By Death at last; and miserable it is To be to others cause of misery, Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring Into this cursed world a woeful race, That after wretched life must be at last Food for so foul a monster; in thy power It lies, yet ere conception to prevent The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. Childless thou art, childless remain: so Death Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two Be forced to satisfy his ravenous maw. But if thou judge it hard and difficult, Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain From love's due rights, nuptial embraces sweet; And with desire to languish without hope, Before the present object languishing With like desire; which would be misery And torment less than none of what we dread; Then, both ourselves and seed at once to free From what we fear for both, let us make short, -- Let us seek Death; -- or, he not found, supply With our own hands his office on ourselves: Why stand we longer shivering under fears, That show no end but death, and have the power, Of many ways to die the shortest choosing, Destruction with destruction to destroy? -- She ended here, or vehement despair Broke off the rest: so much of death her thoughts Had entertained, as dyed her cheeks with pale. But Adam, with such counsel nothing swayed, To better hopes his more attentive mind Labouring had raised; and thus to Eve replied. Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems To argue in thee something more sublime And excellent, than what thy mind contemns; But self-destruction therefore sought, refutes That excellence thought in thee; and implies, Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret For loss of life and pleasure overloved. Or if thou covet death, as utmost end Of misery, so thinking to evade The penalty pronounced; doubt not but God Hath wiselier armed his vengeful ire, than so To be forestalled; much more I fear lest death, So snatched, will not exempt us from the pain We are by doom to pay; rather, such acts Of contumacy will provoke the Highest To make death in us live:  Then let us seek Some safer resolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to mind with heed Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise The Serpent's head; piteous amends! unless Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe, Satan; who, in the serpent, hath contrived Against us this deceit:  To crush his head Would be revenge indeed! which will be lost By death brought on ourselves, or childless days Resolved, as thou proposest; so our foe Shal 'scape his punishment ordained, and we Instead shall double ours upon our heads. No more be mentioned then of violence Against ourselves; and wilful barrenness, That cuts us off from hope; and savours only Rancour and pride, impatience and despite, Reluctance against God and his just yoke Laid on our necks.  Remember with what mild And gracious temper he both heard, and judged, Without wrath or reviling; we expected Immediate dissolution, which we thought Was meant by death that day; when lo!to thee Pains only in child-bearing were foretold, And bringing forth; soon recompensed with joy, Fruit of thy womb:  On me the curse aslope Glanced on the ground; with labour I must earn My bread; what harm? Idleness had been worse; My labour will sustain me; and, lest cold Or heat should injure us, his timely care Hath, unbesought, provided; and his hands Clothed us unworthy, pitying while he judged; How much more, if we pray him, will his ear Be open, and his heart to pity incline, And teach us further by what means to shun The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow! Which now the sky, with various face, begins To show us in this mountain; while the winds Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks Of these fair spreading trees; which bids us seek Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish Our limbs benummed, ere this diurnal star Leave cold the night, how we his gathered beams Reflected may with matter sere foment; Or, by collision of two bodies, grind The air attrite to fire; as late the clouds Justling, or pushed with winds, rude in their shock, Tine the slant lightning; whose thwart flame, driven down Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine; And sends a comfortable heat from far, Which might supply the sun:  Such fire to use, And what may else be remedy or cure To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, He will instruct us praying, and of grace Beseeching him; so as we need not fear To pass commodiously this life, sustained By him with many comforts, till we end In dust, our final rest and native home. What better can we do, than, to the place Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall Before him reverent; and there confess Humbly our faults, and pardon beg; with tears Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek
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SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER (GOOD SHEPHERD SUNDAY) - Latin Calendar
Gospel. John x. 11-16. At that time Jesus said to the Pharisees: I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep. But the hireling and he that is not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep, and flieth: and the wolf catcheth and scattereth the sheep: and the hireling flieth, because he is a hireling, and he hath no care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd: and I know mine, and mine know me. As the Father knoweth me, and I know the Father: and I lay down my life for my sheep. And other sheep I have, that are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold and one shepherd.
“I Am the Good Shepherd.” This Our Lord says of Himself. Our Lord had other titles, as Jesus, Saviour, Redeemer, Master, Advocate, King of peace, Our Reconciliation, all signifying His love for mankind. Are you, my dear young people, glad of the title of good Shepherd, which Our Lord gives Himself? Yes, the title is a beautiful one; it is full of consolation and of love. He gives Himself this title in order to gain our affection and our entire heart. How good Jesus is to us, His lambs and sheep!–What care does He not take of us? He speaks to our hearts words of eternal life, and His holy inspiration illumines our mind and makes us know His goodness. He takes us up tenderly, and brings us to delightful pastures. He nourishes our souls with His holy word, by the words of His priests; He feeds us with bread which is not of this world, the Bread of angels, His sacred body and blood. Was there ever a shepherd who gave his body and blood for food to his flock? Generally the flock is a source of revenue, support, and sustenance to the shepherd; but not so in the case of this Good Shepherd. He supports and sustains His flock.
Of course the shepherd will fight for his flock, he will use every means in his power to protect it from ravage, but the Good Shepherd gives His life for His flock. O, infinite love! What pains and suffering didst Thou not endure for Thy sheep! Just think of Jesus crucified; look at Him nailed to the cross; see that face all covered with bruises; those eyes half closed with blood; those shoulders torn by stripes; that side opened by a lance; those hands and feet pierced with nails, and that head crowned with sharp thorns. All this, all these wounds, the Good Shepherd suffered for His poor lost sheep. Then what should we do on our part? Oh, give Him at least a little recognition, gratitude, obedience, and love– if nothing more than to receive Him on the great festivals of the year. This good Shepherd will love you with all affection and give you His choicest blessings.
There are, on the contrary, many restless, ill-regulated, sickly, plague-stricken sheep who have to be thrown out of the flock, because they continually disobey Him and make Him feel the sadness of having shown kindness in vain. He would like to bring them to good pastures that they might recover from their maladies, and become useful members of the flock again, but they will not listen to His voice. He calls them to the use of the sacraments, but it is in vain; He calls them about Him to be His escort and companions, but they would rather be far away from Him; they want to feed their souls on poisonous food; they do not like the restraint of being near the holy Jesus. They have left the fountains of living water which ran to eternal life. They have looked for water and found filthy broken cisterns.
Among you, my dear youthful friends, there are many wayward sheep also. This Good Shepherd seeks to bring them back to the fold, but many are obstinate, blind, and wicked, and will not hear His voice. He invites them with sweet and coaxing words; He makes them feel the qualms of conscience; He embitters the cup of vice from which they are drinking and takes peace and happiness away from them. But these wicked sheep will not listen and continually say by their works, “No, I will have nothing to do with you.” What more should this Good Shepherd do to gain them and to bring them back to His flock? Can you suggest something? Is it possible that God will not succeed in attracting them to Him? Will He not succeed when He promises them the kingdom of paradise? He must and will get angry some time; He will abandon them and deny them the help of His grace, and then they will fall from one sin to another. How many young people, my dear friends, are in such a state. In early youth they become vessels of wrath, and if God still tolerates them, the day of vengeance will come, the day on which God will separate the bad from the good. And to the bad He will say, “Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire.”
Now, there is still time to change your way of living; you can become the well-loved lambs and sheep of the flock of Christ, instead of being the despised rams that the Shepherd does not tolerate near Him. Go to Him and show your sorrow, and He will take you on His shoulders, for He is waiting and looking for you. He is watching you in your wanderings, and at the first sign of repentance, of weakness, or of fainting, He hastens to your side, He raises you on His shoulders, and carries you back to the fold which you would not have been able to reach with your wasted strength.
My young friends, we are all sheep of the flock of Christ; we are His by redemption and by the grace of almighty God. Be always obedient to Him, hear His voice, and walk continually in His footsteps. Would you walk securely in the midst of this world, so full of danger and snares? The only means is to allow yourselves to be guided by God. If you would please the divine Shepherd, imitate Him in His divine virtues, in His kindness and obedience, like good sheep who are willing to be led. The divine Shepherd having loved His flock on this earth, will call them all to the enjoyment of heavenly pastures and will quench their thirst “At the torrents of joy” which He provides for us in heaven.
by Leonard Goffine, 1871
Because of the joyous resurrection of Christ, and the graces flowing to us on account of it, the Church sings at the Introit of Mass: The earth is full of the mercy of the Lord, Alleluia, by the word of the Lord the heavens were established, Alleluia, Alleluia. Rejoice in the Lord O ye just: praise becometh the upright. (Ps. xxxii.) Glory, &c.
PRAYER OF THE CHURCH. O God, who, by the humiliation of Thy Son, hast raised up the fallen world: grant to Thy people perpetual joy: that They whom thou hast delivered from the danger of everlasting death, may arrive at eternal happiness. Through, &c.
EPISTLE. (i. Peter ii. 21 – 25) Dearly Beloved: Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps. Who did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth. Who when He was reviled, did not revile: when He suffered, he threatened not: but delivered Himself to him that judged Him unjustly: who His own self bore our sins in His body upon the tree: that we being dead to sins, should live to justice: by whose stripes you were healed. For you were as sheep going astray: but you are now converted to the shepherd and bishop of your souls.
EXPLANATION St. Paul teaches the Christians patience in misery and afflictions, even in unjust persecution, and for this purpose places before them the example of Christ who though most innocent, suffered most terribly and so patiently. Are we true sheep of the good shepherd if at the smallest cross, at every word, we become so angry and impatient?
ASPIRATION. O Lord Jesus! grant me the grace to follow Thee, my good Shepherd, and not to complain and make threats whenever I am reprimanded, reviled, or for justice's sake am persecuted.
GOSPEL. (John x. 11 – 16.) At That Time: Jesus said to the Pharisees: I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep. But the hireling and he that is not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep, and flieth, and the wolf catcheth, and scattereth the sheep: and the hireling flieth, because he is a hireling; and he hath no care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd: and I know mine, and mine know me, as the Father knoweth me, and I know the Father: and I lay down my life for my sheep. And other sheep I have, that are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd.
In what way has Christ proved Himself a good shepherd?
In this that He sacrificed His life for those who did not yet love Him, and could not reward Him, even for His enemies (John iv. 30.; Rom. v. 8.), and has besides given Himself to them for their food.
How are we to know if we are among the sheep of Christ, that is, His chosen ones?
By this, if we willingly listen to the voice of the shepherd in sermons and instructions, in spiritual books and conversations, are obedient to it, and especially give ear and follow the rules of the Church through which the good Shepherd speaks to us (Luke x. 16.), “for he,” says St. Augustine, “who has not the Church for his mother, will not have God for his father;” if we gladly receive the food of the good Shepherd, that is, His sacredbody and blood in holy Communion; if we are patient and meek as a lamb, freely forgiving our enemies; if we love all men from our heart, do only good to them, and seek to bring them to Jesus.
Who are the other sheep of Christ?
The gentiles who were not of the fold of Israel, whom Christ sought to bring by His disciples, and now by their successors, into His fold.–Among these sheep we also, through our ancestors, belonged. O how grateful we should be to God, that He has brought us into the fold of His Church, and how diligently we should conduct ourselves as good sheep!
When will there be but one fold and one shepherd?
When by the Church's prayers and by her missionaries all nations shall be converted to the only saving Church, constituting then one Church under one head. Let us pray that this may soon come to pass.
PRAYER O Lord Jesus! Thou good Shepherd who on the cross didst give Thy life for Thy sheep, grant us, we beseech Thee, by Thy death, the grace to bear upon ourselves all the signs of Thy lambs, that we may be one day numbered among Thy chosen ones in heaven.
DOCTRINE OF HOPE I give my life for my sheep. (John x. 15.)
What has Christ won for us by His death?
The remission of our sins, the grace to lead a god-pleasing life, and eternal happiness, for which we now firmly hope, with secure confidence may now expect, and most assuredly will obtain, if we do not ourselves let it go.
In what does eternal happiness consist?
In the clear vision of God, which includes the most perfect love of Him, by which those who are saved, become, as it were, one with Him, possessing in this union everything that they could possibly desire.
What are the necessary means of obtaining eternal happiness?
The grace of God, that is, His continual assistance; the practice of the three divine virtues: faith, hope, and love; the keeping of God's commandments; the frequent use of the holy Sacraments, and constant prayer. These means must be diligently employed, for “God who,” as St. Augustine says, “created us without us, will not save us without us,” that is, without our cooperation.
What may especially enable us to hope for eternal happiness?
The infinite mercy and goodness of God, who from all eternity has loved us more than an earthly mother, and because of this love did not even spare His only begotten Son, but gave Him up, for our sake, to the bitterest death. Will He then deny us heaven, who in giving us His Son, has given us more than heaven itself?
The fidelity of God: He has so often promised us eternal happiness, and in so many texts of Scripture so clearly explained, that He wishes us to be saved, that He must keep His promise, for He is eternal truth and cannot possible lie or deceive. (Hebr. vi. 18.) He says not yes today, and no tomorrow, there is no change in Him, nor shadow of alteration. (James i. 17.) The omnipotence of God, who can do “all that He pleases, whom no one can oppose or prevent from doing what He will; if now we have confidence in a rich and honest man who assures us, he will assist us in need, how much more should we hope in the best, most faithful, and all powerful God!
When should we make acts of hope?
As soon as we come to the use of reason and are sufficiently instructed concerning this virtue and its motives; in time of trouble or of severe temptation against this virtue; when receiving the holy Sacraments; every day in the morning or evening, and especially at the hour of death. The same things are to be observed in making acts of faith and of love.
by Fr. Raphael Frassinetti, 1900
From: www.pamphletstoinspire.com
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