Not unattended; for on her; as queen,
A pomp of winning graces waited fill,
And from about her fhot darts of défire
Into all eyes, to wish her still in fight.
And Raphael now to Adam's doubt propos'd,
Benevolent and facile, thus reply'd.
To afk or fearch I blame thee not; for heav'n
Is as the book of God before thee fet,
Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn
His feafons, hours, or days, or months, or years:
This to attain, whether heav'n move, or earth, 70
Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest
From man or angel the great Architect
Did wifely to conceal, and not divulge
His fecrets to be fcann'd by them who ought
Rather admire; or if they lift to try
Conjecture, he his fabric of the heav'nst
Hath left to their difputes, perhaps to move t
His laughter at their quaint opinions wide
Hereafter, when they come to model heav'n;
And calculate the ftars, how they will wield
The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive
To fave appearances, how gird the sphere
With centric and eccentric feribbled o'er,
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb:
Already by thy reafoning this I guess,
Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest
That bodies bright and greater fhould not ferve
The lefs not bright, nor heav'n fuch journeys run,
Earth fitting fill, when fhe alone receives
The benefit. Confider first, that great
Or bright infers not excellence: the earth
Though, in comparifon of heav'n, fo fmall,
Nor glift'ring, may of folid good contain
More plenty than the fun that barren shines,
Whose virtue on itself works no effect,
But in the fruitful earth; there first receiv'd
His beams, unactive elfe, their vigour find.
Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries
Officious, but to thee, earth's habitant.
And for the heav'n's wide circuit, let it fpeak
The Maker's high magnificence, who built
So fpacious, and his line stretch'd out fo far;
That man may know he dwells not in his own;
An edifice too large for him to fill,
Lodg'd in a small partition, and the reft
Ordain'd for ufes to his Lord best known.
The fwiftnefs of thofe circles attribúte,
Though numberlefs, to his omnipotence,
That to corporeal fubftances could add
Speed almoft fpiritual: me thou think't not flow,
Who fince the morning hour fet out from heav'n,
Where God refides, and ere mid-day arriv'd
In Eden, diftance inexpreffible
By numbers that have name.
Admitting motion in the heav'ns, to show
Invalid that which thee to doubt it mov'd;
Not that I fo affirm, though so it seem
To thee who haft thy dwelling here on earth.
God, to remove his ways from human fenfe,
Plac'd heav'n from earth fo far, that earthly fight, If it prefume, might err in things too high,
Be centre to the world, and other stars
By his attractive virtue and their own
Incited, dance about him various rounds?
Their wand'ring courfe now high, now low, then hid,
Progreffive, retrograde, or standing still,
In fix thou feeft; and what if fev'nth to these,
The planet earth, fo ftedfaft though the feem,
Infenfibly three different motions move?
Which elfe to feveral spheres thou muft afcribe,
Mov'd contrary with thwart obliquities;
Or fave the fun his labour, and that swift
Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb fuppos'd,
Invisible elfe above all stars, the wheel
Of day and night; which needs not thy belief,
If earth industrious of herself fetch day,
Travelling eaft, and with her part averse
From the fun's beam meet night, her other part
Still luminous by his ray. What if that light
Sent from her through the wide tranfpicuous air,
To the terreftrial moon be as a ftar,
Enlight'ning her by day, as fhe by night
This earth? reciprocal, if land be there,
Fields and inhabitants: her spots thou feeft
As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce
Fruits in her foften'd foil, for fome to eat
Allotted there; and other funs, perhaps,
With their attendant moons, thou wilt defcry
Communicating male and female light;
Which two great fexes animate the world,
Stor❜d in each orb perhaps with some that live.
For fuch vaft room in nature unpoffefs'd
By living foul, defert and defolate,
Only to fhine, yet fcarce to contribute
Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far
Down to this habitable, which returns
Light back to them, is obvious to difpute.
But whether thus thefe things, or whether not;
Whether the fun predominant in heav'n
Rife on the earth, or earth rife on the fun;
He from the eaft his flaming road begin,
Or fhe from weft her filent courfe advance
With inoffenfive pace, that fpinning fleeps
On her foft axle, while fhe paces even,
And bears thee foft with the fmooth air along,
Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid;
Leave them to God above, him serve and fear;
Of other creatures, as him pleases deft,
Where-ever plac'd, let him dispose: joy thou
In what he gives to thee, this Paradise,
And thy fair Eve; heav'n is for thee too high
To know what paffes there; be lowly wife:
Think only what concerns thee and thy being;
Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there 175
Live, in what ftate, condition, or degree,
Contented that thus far hath been reveal'd,
Not of earth only, but of highest heav'n.
To whom thus Adam, clear'd of doubt, reply'd. How fully haft thou fatisfy'd me, pure Intelligence of heav'n, angel ferene, And freed from intricacies, taught to live The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts
To interrupt the fweet of life, from which
God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares,
"And not moleft us, unlefs we ourselves
Seek them with wand'ring thoughts, and notions vain. But apt the mind or fancy is to rove
Uncheck'd, and of her roving is no end;
Till warn'd, or by experience taught, fhe learn, 190
That not to know at large of things remote
From ufe, obfcure and fubtle, but to know
That which before us lies in daily life,
Is the prime wifdom: what is more is fume,
Or emptiness, or fond impertinence,
And renders us, in things that most concern,
Unpractis'd, unprepar'd, and ftill to feek.
Therefore from this high pitch let us defcend
A lower flight, and speak of things at hand,
Useful, whence haply mention may arise
Of fomething not unfeasonable to ask,
By fuff'rance, and thy wonted favour deign'd.
Thee I have heard relating what was done
Ere my remembrance: now hear me relate.
My ftory, which perhaps thou haft not hear'd; 205
And day is yet not fpent; till then thou seeft
How fubtly to detain thee I devife,
Inviting thee to hear while 1 relates
Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply:
For while I fit with thee, I feem in heav'n,
And fweeter thy difcourfe is to my ear
Than fruits of palm-tree, pleasantest to thirst
And hunger both, from labour, at the hour
Of sweet repaft: they fatiate, and foon fill,
Though pleafant; but thy words, with grace divine
Imbu'd, bring to their sweetness no fatiety.
216To whom thus Raphael anfwer'd heav'nly meek. Nor are thy lips ungraceful, fire of men, Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd, Inward and outward both, his image fair: Speaking or mute, all comeliness and grace. Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms; Nor lefs think we in heav'n of thee on earth. Than of our fellow-fervant, and enquire Gladly into the ways of God with man: For God we fee hath honour'd thee, and fet On man his equal love. Say therefore on ; For I that day was abfent, as befel,
Bound on a voyage uncouth and obfcure,
Far on excurfion toward the gates of hell;
Squar'd in full legion, (fuch command we had,),
To fee that none thence iffu'd forth a spy,
Or enemy, while God was in his work;
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