To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowers,
Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet." To whom thus Eve replied. "O thou for whom And from whom I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh, And without whom am to no end, my guide And head! what thou hast said is just and right. For we to Him indeed all praises owe, And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy So far the happier lot, enjoying thee Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou Like consort to thyself canst nowhere find. That day I oft remember, when from sleep I first awak'd, and found myself repos'd Under a shade on flowers, much wondering where And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound Of waters issued from a cave, and spread Into a liquid plain, then stood unmov'd
Pure as the expanse of Heaven; I thither went With unexperienced thought, and laid me down On the green bank, to look into the clear Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky. As I bent down to look, just opposite A shape within the watery gleam appear'd, Bending to look on me: I started back, It started back; but pleas'd I soon return'd, Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answering looks Of sympathy and love: there I had fix'd Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire, Had not a voice thus warn'd me; 'What thou seest, What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself; With thee it came and goes: but follow me, And I will bring thee where no shadow stays Thy coming, and thy soft embraces, he Whose image thou art; him thou shalt enjoy Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear Multitudes like thyself, and thence be call'd Mother of human race.' What could I do, But follow straight, invisibly thus led? Till I espied thee, fair indeed and tall, Under a platane; yet methought less fair, Less winning soft, less amiably mild, Than that smooth watery image: back I turn'd ; Thou following cry'dst aloud, Return, fair Eve, Whom fly'st thou? whom thou fly'st, of him thou
His flesh, his bone; to give thee being I lent Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, Substantial life, to have thee by my side Henceforth an individual solace dear; Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim My other half.' With that thy gentle hand Seiz'd mine: I yielded; and from that time see How beauty is excell'd by manly grace, And wisdom, which alone is truly fair."
So spake our general mother, and with eyes Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd, And meek surrender, half-embracing lean'd On our first father; half her swelling breast Naked met his, under the flowing gold Of her loose tresses hid: he in delight Both of her beauty, and submissive charms, Smail'd with superior love, as Jupiter
On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds That shed May flowers; and press'd her matron lip With kisses pure: aside the Devil turn'd For envy; yet with jealous leer malign Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus 'plain'd.
"Sight hateful, sight tormenting; thus these two, Imparadis'd in one another's arms, The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill Of bliss on bliss; while I to Hell am thrust, Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, Among our other torments not the least, Still unfulfill'd, with pain of longing pines. Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd From their own mouths: all is not theirs, it seems; One fatal tree there stands, of knowledge call'd, Forbidden them to taste: Knowledge forbidden? Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord Envy them that? Can it be sin to know? Can it be death? And do they only stand By ignorance? Is that their happy state, The proof of their obedience and their faith? O fair foundation laid whereon to build Their ruin! Hence I will excite their minds With more desire to know, and to reject Envious commands, invented with design To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt Equal with gods: aspiring to be such, They taste and die: what likelier can ensue? But first with narrow search I must walk round This garden, and no corner leave unspied;
A chance but chance may lead where I may meet Some wandering spirit of Heaven by fountain side, Or in thick shade retir'd, from him to draw What further would be learn'd. Live while ye may, Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed."
So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd, But with sly circumspection, and began Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his roam.
Meanwhile in utmost longitude, where Heaven With earth and ocean meets, the setting Sun Slowly descended, and with right aspect Against the eastern gate of Paradise Levell'd his evening rays: it was a rock Of alabaster, pil'd up to the clouds, Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent Accessible from Earth, one entrance high; The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung Still as it rose, impossible to climb. Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel sat, Chief of the angelic guards, awaiting night; About him exercis'd heroic games
The unarm'd youth of Heaven, but nigh at hand Celestial armory, shields, helms, and spears, Hung high, with diamond flaming and with gold. Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even On a sun-beam, swift as a shooting star
In autumn thwarts the night, when vapors fir'd Impress the air, and shows the mariner From what point of his compass to beware Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste.
"Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath given Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place No evil thing approach or enter in.
This day at height of noon came to my sphere A spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know More of the Almighty's works, and chiefly Man, God's latest image: I describ'd his way Bent all on speed, and mark'd his aery gait; But in the mount that lies from Eden north, Where he first lighted, soon discern'd his looks Alien from Heaven, with passions foul obscur'd: Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade
Lost sight of him: one of the banish'd crew, I fear, hath ventur'd from the deep to raise New troubles; him thy care must be to find." To whom the winged warrior thus return'd. "Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight, Amid the Sun's bright circle where thou sit'st, See far and wide: in at this gate none pass The vigilance here plac'd, but such as come Well known from Heaven; and since meridian hour No creature thence: if spirit of other sort, So minded, have o'erleap'd these earthy bounds On purpose, hard thou know'st it to exclude Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. But if within the circuit of these walks, In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom Thou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know." So promis'd he; and Uriel to his charge Return'd on that bright beam, whose point now rais'd Bore him slope downward to the Sun now fall'n Beneath the Azores; whether the prime orb, Incredible how swift, had thither roll'd Diurnal, or this less volúbil Earth,
By shorter flight to the east, had left him there Arraying with reflected purple and gold The clouds that on his western throne attend. Now came still Evening on, and Twilight grey Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale ; She all night long her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleas'd: now glow'd the firmament With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led The starry host, rode brightest, till the Moon, Rising in clouded majesty, at length Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew: fragrant the fertile Earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful Evening mild; then silent Night, With this her solemn bird, and this fair Moon, And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train: But neither breath of Morn, when she ascends With charm of earliest birds; nor rising Sun On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers; Nor grateful Evening mild; nor silent Night, With this her solemn bird; nor walk by Moon, Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet. But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?" To whom our general ancestor replied. "Daughter of God and Man, accomplish'd Eve, These have their course to finish round the Earth, By morrow evening, and from land to land In order, though to nations yet unborn, Minist'ring light prepar'd, they set and rise; Lest total Darkness should by night regain Her old possession, and extinguish life,
In Nature, and all things; which these soft fires Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat Of various influence foment and warm, Temper or nourish, or in part shed down Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow On Earth, made hereby apter to receive Perfection from the Sun's more potent ray. These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, Shine not in vain; nor think, though men were none, That Heaven would want spectators, God want
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the Earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep:
When Adam thus to Eve. "Fair consort, the hour All these with ceaseless praise his works behold
Of night, and all things now retir'd to rest, Mind us of like repose; since God hath set Labor and rest, as day and night, to men Successive; and the timely dew of sleep, Now falling with soft slumb'rous weight, inclines Our eye-lids: other creatures all day long Rove idle, unemploy'd, and less need rest; Man hath his daily work of body or mind Appointed, which declares his dignity, And the regard of Heaven on all his ways; While other animals unactive range, And of their doings God takes no account. To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east With first approach of light, we must be risen. And at our pleasant labor to reform Yon flowery arbors, yonder alleys green, Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, That mock our scant manuring, and require More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth: Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums, That lie bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth, Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease; Meanwhile, as Nature wills, night bids us rest." To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd. "My author and disposer, what thou bidst Unargued I obey: so God ordains;
God is thy law, thou mine: to know no more Is woman's happiest knowledge, and her praise. With thee conversing I forget all time; All seasons, and their change, all please alike. Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the Sun,
Both day and night: how often from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive each to other's note, Singing their great Creator? Oft in bands While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk, With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds In full harmonic number join'd, their songs Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven.” Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd On to their blissful bower: it was a place Chos'n by the sovran Planter, when he fram'd All things to Man's delightful use; the roof Of thickest covert was inwoven shade Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew Of firm and fragrant leaf: on either side Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub, Fenc'd up the verdant wall; each beauteous flower, Iris all hues, roses, and jessamin, [wrought Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between, and Mosaic; underfoot the violet, Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay Broider'd the ground, more color'd than with stone Of costliest emblem: other creature here, Bird, beast, insect, or worm, durst enter none, Such was their awe of Man. In shadier bower More sacred and sequester'd, though but feign'd, Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor nymph Nor Faunus haunted. Here, in close recess, With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smelling herbs. Espous'd Eve deck'd first her nuptial bed; And heavenly quires the hymenean sung,
What day the genial angel to our sire Brought her, in naked beauty more adorn'd, More lovely, than Pandora, whom the gods Endow'd with all their gifts, and O too like In sad event, when to the unwiser son Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnar'd Mankind with her fair looks, to be aveng'd On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire.
Thus, at their shady lodge arriv'd, both stood, Both turn'd, and under open sky ador'd
The God that made both sky, air, Earth, and Heaven,
Which they beheld, the Moon's resplendent globe, And starry pole: "Thou also mad'st the night, Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day, Which we, in our appointed work employ'd, Have finish'd, happy in our mutual help And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss Ordain'd by thee; and this delicious place For us too large, where thy abundance wants Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. But thou hast promis'd from us two a race To fill the Earth, who shall with us extol Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep." This said unanimous, and other rites Observing none, but adoration pure Which God likes best, into their inmost bower Handed they went; and, eas'd the putting off These troublesome disguises which we wear, Straight side by side were laid; nor turn'd, I ween, Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites Mysterious of connubial love refus'd: Whatever hypocrites austerely talk Of purity, and place, and innocence, Defaming as impure what God declares Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all. Our Maker bids increase; who bids abstain But our destroyer, foe to God and Man? Hail, wedded love, mysterious law, true source Of human offspring, sole propriety In Paradise of all things common else.
By thee adulterous Lust was driven from men Among the bestial herds to range; by thee Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, Relations dear, and all the charities Of father, son, and brother, first were known. Far be it, that I should write thee sin or blame, Or think thee unbefitting holiest place, Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets, Whose bed is undefil'd and chaste pronounc'd, Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs us'd. Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd, Casual fruition; nor in court-amours,
Mix'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, Or serenade, which the starv'd lover sings To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. These, lull'd by nightingales, embracing slept, And on their naked limbs the flowery roof Shower'd roses, which the morn repair'd. Sleep on, Blest pair; and O yet happiest, if ye seek No happier state, and know to know no more. Now had Night measur'd with her shadowy cone Half way up hill this vast sublunar vault, And from their ivory port the cherubim, Forth issuing at the accustom'd hour, stood arm'd
To their night watches in warlike parade; When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake.
"Uzziel, half these draw off, and coast the south With strictest watch; these other wheel the north; Our circuit meets full west." As flame they part, Half wheeling to the shield, half to the spear. From these two strong and subtle spirits he call'd That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge. "Ithuriel and Zephon, with wing'd speed Search through this garden, leave unsearch'd no nook;
But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge, Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm. This evening from the Sun's decline arriv'd, Who tells of some infernal spirit seen Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escap'd The bars of Hell, on errand bad no doubt: Such, where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring." So saying, on he led his radiant files, Dazzling the Moon; these to the bower direct In search of whom they sought: him there they
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, Assaying by his devilish art to reach The organs of her fancy, and with them forge Illusions, as he list, phantasms and dreams; Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint The animal spirits, that from pure blood arise Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise At least distemper'd, discontented thoughts, Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires, Blown up with high conceits engendering pride. Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear Touch'd lightly; for no falsehood can endure Touch of celestial temper, but returns Of force to its own likeness: up he starts Discover'd and surpris'd. As when a spark Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid Fit for the tun some magazine to store Against a rumor'd war, the smutty grain, With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the air: So started up in his own shape the fiend. Back stept those two fair angels, half amaz'd So sudden to behold the grisly king;
Yet thus, unmov'd with fear, accost him soon.
"Which of those rebel spirits adjudg'd to Hell Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison? and, transform'd, Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait, Here watching at the head of these that sleep?"
"Know ye not then," said Satan, fill'd with scorn, "Know ye not me? ye knew me once no mate For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar : Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, The lowest of your throng; or if ye know, Why ask ye, and superfluous begin Your message, like to end as much in vain." To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with
"Think not, revolted spirit, thy shape the same, Or undiminish'd brightness to be known, As when thou stood'st in Heaven upright and pure; That glory then, when thou no more wast good, Departed from thee; and thou resemblest now Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul. But come, for thou, be sure, shall give account To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep This place inviolable, and these from harm."
So spake the cherub; and his grave rebuke Severe in youthful beauty, added grace
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.dk/books/content?id=SdcTAAAAIAAJ&hl=da&output=html_text&pg=PA56&img=1&zoom=3&q=%22Beyond+the+Indian+mount%3B+or+faery+elves,+Whose+midnight+revels,+by+a%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U1cGTZtC2F_91ZLU12ZOz-sEpsrEg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=80,277,10,8)
Invincible: abash'd the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely; saw, and pin'd His loss; but chiefly to find here observ'd Ilis lustre visibly impair'd; yet seem'd Undaunted. "If I must contend," said he, Best with the best, the sender not the sent, Or all at once; more glory will be won, Or less be lost." "Thy fear," said Zephon bold, Will save us trial what the least can do Single against the wicked, and thence weak." The fiend replied not, overcome with rage; But, like a proud steed rein'd, went haughty on, Champing his iron curb to strive or fly He held it vain; awe from above had quell'd His heart, not else dismay'd. Now drew they nigh The western point, where those half-rounding guards Just met, and closing stood in squadron join'd, Awaiting next command. To whom their chief, Gabriel, from the front thus call'd aloud.
"O friends! I hear the tread of nimble feet Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade; And with them comes a third of regal port, But faded splendor wan; who by his gait And fierce demeanor seems the prince of Hell, Not likely to part hence without contest; Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours."
He scarce had ended, when those two approach'd, And brief related whom they brought, where found, How busied, in what form and posture couch'd.
To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake. "Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescrib'd To thy transgressions, and disturb'd the charge Of others, who approve not to transgress By thy example, but have power and right To question thy bold entrance on this place; Employ'd, it seems, to violate sleep, and those Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?" To whom thus Satan with contemptuous brow. "Gabriel! thou hadst in Heaven the esteem of wise, And such I held thee; but this question ask'd Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain? Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, Though thither doom'd? Thou wouldst thyself, no doubt,
And boldly venture to whatever place
Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell, Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain Can equal anger infinite provok'd.
But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee Came not all Hell broke loose? is pain to them Less pain, less to be fled; or thou than they Less hardy to endure? courageous chief! The first in flight from pain! hadst thou alleg'd To thy deserted host this cause of flight, Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive." To which the fiend thus answer'd, frowning stern. "Not that I less endure or shrink from pain, Insulting angel! well thou know'st I stood Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid The blasting vollied thunder made all speed, And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. But still thy words at random, as before, Argue thy inexperience what behoves From hard assays and ill successes past A faithful leader, not to hazard all Through ways of danger by himself untried. I therefore, I alone first undertook To wing the desolate abyss, and spy This new-created world, whereof in Hell Fame is not silent, here in hope to find Better abode, and my afflicted powers To settle here on Earth, or in mid air; Though for possession put to try once more What thou and thy gay legions dare against; Whose easier business were to serve their Lord High up in Heaven, with songs to hymn his throne, And practis'd distances to cringe, not fight."
To whom the warrior-angel soon replied, "To say and straight unsay, pretending first Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, Argues no leader but a liar trac'd, Satan, and couldst thou faithful add? O name, O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd! Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew? Army of fiends, fit body to fit head. Was this your discipline and faith engag'd, Your military obedience, to dissolve Allegiance to the acknowledged Power supreme? And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem Patron of liberty, who more than thou Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilely ador'd Heaven's awful Monarch? wherefore, but in hope
Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to To dispossess him, and thyself to reign?
Torment with ease, and soonest recompense Dole with delight, which in this place I sought; To thee no reason, who know'st only good, But evil hast not tried: and wilt object His will who bound us? Let him surer bar His iron gates, if he intends our stay In that dark durance: thus much what was ask'd. The rest is true, they found me where they say; But that implies not violence or harm."
Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel moved, Disdainfully half smiling, thus replied. "O loss of one in Heaven to judge of wise Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew, And now returns him from his prison scap'd, Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither Unlicens'd from his bounds in Hell prescrib'd; So wise he judges it to fly from pain However, and to 'scape his punishment! So judge thou still, presumptuous! till the wrath, Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight
But mark what I aread thee now: Avaunt! Fly thither whence thou fledst! If from this hour Within these hallow'd limits thou appear, Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chain'd, And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn The facile gates of Hell too slightly barr'd." So threaten'd he; but Satan to no threats Gave heed, but waxing more in rage replied. "Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, Proud limitary cherub! but ere then Far heavier load thyself expect to feel From my prevailing arm, though Heaven's King Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers, Us'd to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels In progress through the road of Heaven star-pav'd."
While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright Turn'd fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns Their phalanx, and began to hem him round With ported spears, as thick as when a field Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind Sways them; the careful plowman doubting stands,
Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarm'd, Collecting all his might, dilated stood, Like Teneriffe or Atlas, unremov'd: His stature reach'd the sky, and on his crest Sat Horror plum'd; nor wanted in his grasp
What seem'd both spear and shield: now dreadful deeds
Might have ensued, nor only Paradise In this commotion, but the starry cope Of Heaven perhaps, or all the elements
At least had gone to wrack, disturb'd and torn With violence of this conflict, had not soon The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray, Hung forth in Heaven his golden scales, yet seen Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign, Wherein all things created first he weigh'd, The pendulous round Earth with balanc'd air In counterpoise, now ponders all events, Battles and realms: in these he put two weights, The sequel each of parting and of fight: The latter quick up-flew, and kick'd the beam; Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend. "Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine;
Neither our own, but given: what folly then To boast what arms can do! since thine no more Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled
To trample thee as mire: for proof look up, And read thy lot in yon celestial sign;
And temperate vapors bland, which the only sound 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, As through unquiet rest: he, on his side, Leaning half rais'd, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamor'd, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: "Awake, My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found, Heaven's last best gift, my ever-new delight! Awake: the morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How Nature paints her colors, how the bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet."
Such whispering wak'd her, but with startled eye On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake.
"O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, My glory, my perfection! glad I see
Thy face, and morn return'd; for I this night (Such night till this I never pass'd) have dream'd, If dream'd, not, as I oft am wont, of thee, Works of day past, or morrow's next design, But of offence and trouble, which my mind Knew never till this irksome night: methought
Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk
If thou resist." The fiend look'd up, and knew His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.
With gentle voice; I thought it thine: it said, Why sleep'st thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time, The cool, the silent, save where silence yields To the night-warbling bird, that now awake Tunes sweetest his love-labor'd song: now reigns Full-orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing light Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain, If none regard: Heaven wakes with all his eyes, Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire ? Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment troublesome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.' her: they come forth to their day-labors: their I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; morning hymn at the door of their bower. God, To find thee I directed then my walk; to render man inexcusable, sends Raphael to And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways admonish him of his obedience, of his free estate, That brought me on a sudden to the tree of his enemy near at hand, who he is, and why Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seem'd, his enemy, and whatever else may avail Adam to Much fairer to my fancy than by day: know. Raphael comes down to Paradise; his And, as I wondering look'd, beside it stood appearance described; his coming discerned by One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Adam afar off sitting at the door of his bower; Heaven
he goes out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, By us oft seen: his dewy locks distill'd entertains him with the choicest fruits of Para- Ambrosia; on that tree he also gaz'd;
dise got together by Eve; their discourse at And O fair plant,' said he, with fruit surcharg'd, table: Raphael performs his message, minds Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet, Adam of his state and of his enemy; relates, at Nor God, nor Man? Is knowledge so despis'd? Adam's request, who that enemy is, and how he Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste? came to be so, beginning from his first revolt in Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold Heaven, and the occasion thereof; how he drew Longer thy offer'd good; why else set here?' his legions after him to the parts of the north, This said, he paus'd not, but with venturous arm and there incited them to rebel with him, per- He pluck'd, he tasted; me damp horror chill'd suading all but only Abdiel a seraph, who in argument dissuades and opposes him, then forsakes him.
Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, When Adam wak'd, so custom'd; for his sleep Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred,
At such bold words vouch'd with a deed so bold: But he thus, overjoy'd; 'O fruit divine, Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt, Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit For gods, yet able to make gods of men: And why not gods of men; since good, the more Communicated, more abundant grows, The author not impair'd, but honor'd more?
« ForrigeFortsæt » |