The bibliographer Hugh Amory argues persuasively for this being the earliest issue of the first edition of Paradise Lost (despite its title page, dated 1668), in which the anonymous author is identified only by his initials, "J. M." Similarly, the author is identified in the Stationers' Register on 20 August 1667 by his initials only. Amory speculates that Samuel Simmons, the printer and publisher of the first edition, decided against using Milton's full name on the title page "as the day of publication approached," substituting this version on which the author remained anonymous. Simmons's faltering confidence is understandable because Milton, a prominent supporter of regicide (he defended the execution of Charles I), was still widely regarded as a dangerous radical when Paradise Lost was first published.

As sales of the book improved, and perhaps after the royal library had accepted a presentation copy (the king's copy is displayed in the next case), Simmons's anxiety subsided, and he began to draw from the stock of alternative title pages. Milton's full name was retained on the title pages of the first edition in 1668 and 1669. The book was never issued with a frontispiece portrait of the author. The portrait that appears opposite the title pages of these copies is William Dolle's engraving (after William Faithorne's painting of Milton), published in the second and third editions (1674 and 1678), and inserted into these copies of the first edition at a later date.

This 1668 reissue was the first to include Milton's synopsis of each book ("the Arguments" of Books 1–10), his defense of "the Verse," and a list of errata, adding sixteen pages of preliminary matter to the book. Simmons's note to the reader states that he had procured this explanation from Milton because readers of the poem had "stumbled" on first encountering it, asking "why the Poem Rimes not." Milton's strident defense of blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter) is printed in large type that fills two pages. His chosen meter, although no longer fashionable by 1667, was the dominant mode of Shakespeare's plays and is the closest to the natural rhythms of English speech. Samuel Johnson later commented sarcastically that, "finding blank verse easier than rhyme, [Milton] was desirous of persuading himself that it is better."

When Charles II was restored to the English throne in 1660, he issued a proclamation calling for two of Milton's books to be publicly burned by the hangman. This is a magnificent association copy, bound in full contemporary red morocco and stamped in gilt with the cipher of Charles II, consisting of crowned Cs and palm leaves in five of the six spine panels. The endpapers also bear a watermark with the arms of Charles II. The royal binding is attributed to Samuel Mearne. The gilt stamped spine reads Paradice Lost, the title as it was entered in the Stationers' Register on 20 August 1667. This copy has the 1667 title page bound, as printed, at the end.

Over a century after the first publication of Paradise Lost in London, the Philadelphia printer Robert Bell, perhaps inspired by the Revolution, ignored British copyright and published this two-volume edition of Milton's work. This is the extremely rare first American edition, in contemporary sheep binding with a frontispiece portrait engraving by John Norman, to which a previous owner has added a moustache in ink. Milton had long enjoyed a high reputation in this country. Thomas Jefferson, like many of his contemporaries, regarded Milton as one of the greatest poets of the English language. In his essay "Thoughts on English Prosody," he declared blank verse to be "the most precious part of our poetry," citing the opening of Paradise Lost as an example.

By 1688, when England was on the verge of the Whig revolution, Milton's reputation had revived considerably. He was commended for his republicanism as well as his record as a defender of liberty. His supporters believed that his greatest poetic achievement merited this handsome, monumental edition. One of the earliest examples of subscription publishing, financed by Lord Somers, the fourth edition of Paradise Lost was the first to be printed in folio format and is the first illustrated edition, distinguished by high quality paper, large, clear type, and ample margins. Milton had previously reorganized the poem into twelve books (by splitting Books 7 and 10 of the original) to parallel Virgil's Aeneid more closely. Full-page illustrations by John Baptiste de Medina, Bernard Lens, and Henry Aldrich precede each of the twelve books in this edition.

In Bell's edition, Milton's two sonnets on the subject of his blindness are printed together on one page. Sonnet 22 (here numbered VII) is a Petrarchan sonnet addressed to his pupil and friend, Cyriack Skinner (1627–1700). Written in late 1654 or early 1655, three years after Milton had become totally blind, it remained unpublished during Milton's lifetime. The manuscript is written in Skinner's hand, indicating that Milton dictated it to him. Both sonnets innovatively blur the distinction between the octave and sestet, continuing the syntax and sense between the eighth and ninth lines by enjambment to more closely approximate the natural rhythms of the speaking voice. This fluidity and continuity, in which, according to Milton's note, "the sense [is] variously drawn out from one verse into another," is also a notable element in the poetic accomplishment of Paradise Lost.

This portrait of a middle-aged man, costumed in a black buttoned vest, black gown, square white collar tied with strings and having two tassels below, is believed to depict John Milton at forty-eight years of age. According to John Aubrey, an early biographer of Milton, the poet's long hair was "abroun" or "reddish," and his "complexion exceeding fayre." This miniature may have been given by Milton to his second wife, Katherine Woodcock, whom he married in November 1656. She gave birth to a daughter in October 1657, but both mother and child died the following year. Woodcock is commemorated in Sonnet 23 as "my late espousèd saint." The miniature was bequeathed to Woodcock's niece and was handed down in direct succession through the Woodcock family.