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