So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd; But filently a gentle tear let fall
From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair
Two other precious drops that ready ftood,
Each in their chryftal fluice, he ere they fell
Kifs'd, as the gracious figns of fweet remorse,
And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended.
So all was clear'd, and to the field they hafte.
But first, from under fhady arbo'rous roof
Soon as they forth were come to open fight
Of day-fpring, and the fun, who fcarce up rifen,
With wheels yet hov'ring o'er the ocean-brim,
Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray,
Discovering in wide landscape all the east
Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains,
Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began
Their orifons, each morning duly paid
In various ftyle; for neither various style :
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise
Their Maker, in fit ftrains pronounc'd, or fung
Unmeditated, fuch prompt eloquence
Flow'd from their lips, in profe or numerous verse,
More tuneable than needed lute or harp
To add more fweetness; and they thus began.
Thefe are thy glorious works, Parent of good!
Almighty, thine this univerfal frame,
Thus wondrous fair; thyfelf how wondrous then!
To us invifible, or dimly feen
Unfpeakable, who fitt'ft above these heavens,
In these thy loweft works; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Speak ye who beft can tell, ye fons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with fongs
And choral fymphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heaven,
On earth join all ye creatures to extol
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. 165 Fairest of stars, laft in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'ft the fmiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy fphere,
While day arifes, that fweet hour of prime.
Thou fun, of this great world both eye and foul,
Acknowledge him thy greater; found his praise
In thy eternal courfe, both when thou climb'ft,
And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
Moon, that now meet'ft the orient fun, now fly'ft
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies; 176
And ye five other wand'ring fires that move
In mystic dance, not without fong, refound
His praife, who out of darkness call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix,
And nourish all things; let your ceafelefs change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mists and exhalations that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dufky or gray,
Till the fun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rife,
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling fhowers,
Rifing or falling ftill advance his praise.
His praife, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in fign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye, that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices all ye living fouls; ye birds,
That finging up to heaven-gate afcend
Bear on your wings, and in your notes his praife.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and ftately tread, or lowly creep;
Witnefs if I be filent, morn or even,
To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my fong, and taught his praife.
Hail, univerfal Lord! be bounteous ftill
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,
Difperfe it, as now light difpels the dark.
So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts Firm peace recover'd foon, and wonted calm.
On to their morning's rural work they hafte,
Among sweet dews and flowers; where any row
Of fruit-trees over-woody reach'd too far
Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to check
Fruitless embraces: or they led the vine
To wed her elm; fhe fpous'd about him twines
Her marriageable arms, and with her brings
Her dower, th' adopted clusters, to adorn
His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld
With pity heaven's high King, and to him call'd 220
Raphael, the fociable spi'rit, that deign'd
To travel with Tobias, and fecur'd
His marriage with the fev'n-times wedded maid.
Raphael, faid he, thou hear'ft what ftir on earth
Satan, from hell 'scap'd thro' the darkfome gulf, 225
Hath rais'd in Paradife, and how difturb'd
This night the human pair, how he defigns
In them at once to ruin all mankind.
Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend
Converfe with Adam, in what bower or shade
Thou find'ft him from the heat of noon retir'd,
To refpite his day-labour with repast,
Or with repofe; and fuch difcourfe bring on,
As may advise him of his happy state,
Happiness in his power left free to will,
Left to his own free will; his will tho' free,
Yet mutable: whence warn him to beware
He fwerve not too fecure. Tell him withal
His danger, and from whom; what enemy,
Late fall'n himself from heaven, is plotting now 240
The fall of others from like state of blifs:
By violence? no, for that fhall be withstood;
But by deceit and lies: this let him know,
Left willfully tranfgreffing he pretend
Surprifal, unadmonifh'd, unforewarn'd.
So fpake th' eternal Father, and fulfill'd
All justice: nor delay'd the winged faint
After his charge receiv'd; but from among
Thoufand celeftial Ardours, where he ftood
Weil'd with his gorgeous wings, up-springing light 250
Flew thro' the midst of heaven; th' angelic quires
On each hand parting, to his fpeed gave way
Thro' all th' empyreal road; till at the gate
Of heaven arriv'd, the gate felf-open'd wide,
On golden hinges turning, as by work
Divine the Sov'reign Architect had fram'd.
From hence, no cloud, or, to obstruct his fight,
Star interpos'd, however fmall, he fees,
Not unconform to other fhining globes,
Earth, and the gard'n of God, with cedars crown'd Above all hills. As when by night the glass
Of Galileo, lefs affur'd, obferves
Imagin'd lands and regions in the moon:
Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan
Winnows the buxom air; till within foar
Of tow'ring eagles, to' all the fowls he feems
A Phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that fole bird,
When to infhrine his reliques in the fun's
Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies.
At once on th' eastern cliff of Paradife
He lights, and to his proper shape returns,
A Seraph wing'd: fix wings he wore, to shade
His lineaments divine; the pair that clad
Fach fhoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast
With regal ornament; the middle pair
Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round
Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold,
And colours dipt in heaven; the third his feet
Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail,
Sky tinctur'd grain. Like Maia's fon he stood, 285
And fhook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance fill'd
The circuit wide. Strait knew him all the bands
Of angels under watch; and to his state,
And to his meffage high, in honour rife;
For on fome meffage high they guess'd him bound. 290
Their glitt'ring tents he pass'd, and now is come
Into the blissful field, thro' groves of myrrh,
And flow'ring odours, caffia, nard, and balm;
A wilderness of fweets; for nature here
Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will
Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more fweet,
Wild above rule or art; enormous blifs.
Him thro' the fpicy forest onward come
Adam difcern'd, as in the door he fat
Of his cool bower, while now the mounted fun
Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm
Earth's inmoft womb, more warmth than Adam needs;
And Eve within, due at her hour, prepar'd
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