Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn, Or violence, hee of thir wicked wayes Shall them admonish, and before them set The paths of righteousness, how much more safe, 810 And full of peace, denouncing wrauth to come On thir impenitence; and shall returne Of them derided, but of God observd The one just Man alive; by his command Shall build a wondrous Ark, as thou beheldst, To save himself and houshold from amidst A World devote to universal rack. No sooner hee with them of Man and Beast Select for life shall in the Ark be lodg'd, And shelterd round, but all the Cataracts 820 Of Heav'n set open on the Earth shall powre Raine day and night, all fountaines of the Deep Broke up, shall heave the Ocean to usurp Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise Above the highest Hills: then shall this Mount Of Paradise by might of Waves be moovd Out of his place, pushd by the horned floud, With all his verdure spoil'd, and Trees adrift Down the great River to the op'ning Gulf, And there take root an Iland salt and bare, 830 The haunt of Seales and Orcs, and Sea-mews clang. To teach thee that God attributes to place No sanctitie, if none be thither brought By Men who there frequent, or therein dwell. And now what further shall ensue, behold. He lookd, and saw the Ark hull on the floud, Which now abated, for the Clouds were fled, Drivn by a keen North-winde, that blowing drie Wrinkl'd the face of Deluge, as decai'd; And the cleer Sun on his wide watrie Glass 840 Gaz'd hot, and of the fresh Wave largely drew, As after thirst, which made thir flowing shrink From standing lake to tripping ebbe, that stole With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopt His Sluces, as the Heav'n his windows shut. The Ark no more now flotes, but seems on ground Fast on the top of som high mountain fixt. And now the tops of Hills as Rocks appeer; With clamor thence the rapid Currents drive Towards the retreating Sea thir furious tyde. 850 Forthwith from out the Arke a Raven flies, And after him, the surer messenger, A Dove sent forth once and agen to spie Green Tree or ground whereon his foot may light; The second time returning, in his Bill An Olive leafe he brings, pacific signe: Anon drie ground appeers, and from his Arke The ancient Sire descends with all his Train; Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout, Grateful to Heav'n, over his head beholds 860 A dewie Cloud, and in the Cloud a Bow Conspicuous with three lifted colours gay, Betok'ning peace from God, and Cov'nant new. Whereat the heart of Adam erst so sad Greatly rejoyc'd, and thus his joy broke forth. O thou that future things canst represent As present, Heav'nly instructer, I revive At this last sight, assur'd that Man shall live