Book II, 53: On miserable Man

Adam, the highest pitch of perfect nature,
And lively image of his great Creator,
Declin'd his God; and, by one sinfull Deed,
Destroy'd himselfe, and ruin'd all his seed:
How wretched, then, how desp'rate's our Condition,
Whose ev'ry minute makes a repetition
Of greater sins, against both light of Nature,
And Grace, against Creation and Creator!
Alas! we claime not by descent, alone,
But adde by hourely purchase of our owne:
There is no breach of Loyalty, no sin
We are imperfect, and unpractis'd in;
Shall not a world of Sins bring ruine, then,
To One; when one Sin slew a world of men?