Into this wild abyss ,

The womb of nature and perhaps her grave ,

Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire ,

But all these in their pregnant causes mixed

Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight ,

Unless the almighty maker them ordain

His dark materials to create more worlds ,

Into this wild abyss the wary fiend

Stood on the brink of hell and looked a while ,

Pondering his voyage …

—John Milton, Paradise Lost , Book II GNXGgw0p/gUdCeQur6J8VkLwHdU22FCEtf9wQvIEH1EZOHhM1itZ2+lMwtaQDWh6