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The ARGUMENT. Morning approach'd, Eve relates to Adam

her troublesome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts her : They come forth to their day labours: Their Morning Hymn at the Door of their Bower. God to render Man inexcusable sends Raphael to admonijl him of hisobedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand; who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever elfe may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Paradise, his

appearance describ'd, his coming discern'd by Adam afar off fitting at the door of his Bower; he goes out to meet him, hrings him to his lodge, entertains him with

the choicest fruits of Paradise got together by Eve; their discourse at Table: Raphael performs his mesage, minds Adam of his ftate and of his enemy; relates at Adam's request who that enemy is, and how he came to be fo, beginning from his first revolt in Heaven, and the occasion thereof; how he drew his Legions after him to the parts of the North, and there incited them to rebel with bim, perswading all but only Abdiel a Seraph, who in Argument diswades and opposes him, then

forsakes him.

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TOW Morn her rosie steps in th’Eastern Clime

Advancing, sow'd the earth with Orient Pearl, When Adam wak’d, so custom’d, for his sleep Was Aerie light from pure digestion bred, And temperat vapours bland, which th’ only found Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,

Lightly dispers’d, and the shrill Matin Song
Of Birds on every bough; so much the more
His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve
With Tresses discompos’d, and glowing Cheek 10
As through unquiet rest : he on his fide
Leaning half rais'd, with looks of cordial Love
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar Graces ; then with voice
Mild, as when Zephyruis on Flora breathes,
Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus. Awake
My faireft, mý espous'd, my latest found,
Heav'ns last best gift, my ever new delight,
Awake, the morning lines, and the fresh field
-Calls us, we lose the prime, to mark how spring

Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,
What drops the Myrrhe, and what the balmie Reed,
How Natúre paints her colour, how the Bee
Sits on the Bloom extracting liquid sweet. 25

Such whispering wak'd her, but with startId eye On Adam, whom embracing, thus the spake.

O Sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, My Glosy, my Perfection, glad I see

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