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In Paradise of all things common else.
Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk
I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;
And, O fair plant! said he, with fruit surcharg'd,
For Gods, yet able to make Gods of men:
And why not Gods of men, since good, the more
The Author not impair'd, but honour'd more?
Now morn her rosy steps in th' eastern clime Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, When Adam wak'd, so custom'd; for his sleep Was airy light, from pure digestion bred, And temp❜rate vapours bland, which th' 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 enamour'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, Heav'ns 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 tended plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How Nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid sweet.
Such whisp'ring 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
The earth outstretch'd immense, a prospect wide And various: wond'ring at my flight and change To this high exaltation; suddenly
My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down,
To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her night
Best image of myself, and dearer half,
This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear; Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Yet evil whence? In thee can harbour none, Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs Created pure. But know that in the soul
And choral symphonies, day without night, Are many lesser faculties, that serve
Circle his throne, rejoicing; ye in Heaven, Reason as chief: among these fancy next
On earth join all ye creatures to extol Her office holds; of all external things
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. Which the five watchful senses represent,
Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, She forms imaginations, airy shapes,
If better thou belong not to the dawn, Which reason joining or disjoining, frames
Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn All that we affirm or what deny, and call
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, Our knowledge or opinion; then retires
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Into her private cell when Nature rests.
Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul, Oft in her absence mimic fancy wakes
Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise To imitate her; but misjoining shapes,
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, Wild works produces oft, and most in dreams, And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou Il matching words and deeds long past or late.
fall'st. Some such resemblances, methinks, I find
Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st, Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream, With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies, But with addition strange; yet be not sad.
And ye five other wand’ring fires that move Evil into the mind of God or man
In mystic dance, not without song, resound May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave
His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. No spot or blame behind: which gives me hope Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Waking thou never wilt consent to do.
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud those looks, And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change That wont to be more cheerful and serene,
Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Than when fair morning first smiles on the world; Ye mists and exhalations that now rise And let us to our fresh employments rise
From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey, Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, That open now their choicest bosom'd smells, In honour to the world's great Author rise, Reserv'd from night, and kept for thee in store. Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheerid, Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, But silently a gentle tear let fall
Rising or falling, still advance his praise. From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair; His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, Two other precious drops that ready stood,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines, Each in their chrystal sluice, he, ere they fell, With every plant, in sign of worship wave. kisid, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. So all was clear'd, and to the field they haste. Join voices, all ye living souls: ye birds, But first, from under shady arb'rous roof,
That, singing, up to Heaven gate ascend, Soon as they forth were come to open sight Bear on your wings, and in your notes his praise. Of day-spring, and the sun, who scarce up risen, Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean brim, The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep; Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray,
Witness if I be silent, morn, or even, Discovering in wide landskip all the east
To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, Of Paradise, and Eden's happy plains,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Lowly they bow'd, adoring, and began
Hail! universal Lord, be bounteous still Their orisons, each morning duly paid
To give us only good; and the night In various stile; for neither various stile
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.
THE ANGEL RAPHAEL SENT TO WARN Hore tuneable than needed lute or harp
ADAM OF HIS DANGER.
These are thy glorious works, Parent of Good, All justice: nor delay'd the winged Saint
After his charge receiv’d; but from among
Flew thro’ the midst of Heav'n; th'angelie choirs, In these thy lowest works; yet these declare On each hand parting, to his speed gave way Tay goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine. Through all th' empyreal road; till at the gate
Of Heav'n artiv'd, the gate self-open'd wide, Our heav'nly stranger: well we may afford
Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow
More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare. Not unconform to other shining globes,
To whom thus Eve. Adam, earth's hallow'd Earth, and the gard'n of God, with cedars crown'd
mould, Above all hills. As when by night the glass
Of God inspir’d, small store will serve, where store, Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes
All seasons, ripe for use, hangs on the stalk; Imagin'd lands and regions in the moon ;
Save what by frugal storing firmness gains Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades,
To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes: Delos or Samos, first appearing, keus,
But I will haste, and from each bough and brake, A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight
Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such choice He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky
To entertain our Angel guest, as he Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing.
Beholding shall confess, that here on earth Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan
God hath dispens'd his bounties as in Heaven.
So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste
What choice to choose for delicacy best,
What order, so contriv'd as not to mix Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies.
Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring At once on th' eastern cliff of Paradise
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change ; He lights, and to his proper shape returns
Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk A Seraph wing’d; six wings he wore, to shade
Whatever Earth, all-bearing mother, yields His lineaments divine; the pair that clad
In India East or West, or middle shore Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast
In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where With regal ornament; the middle pair
Alcinous reign’d, fruit of all kinds, in coat Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round Rough or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell, Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold She gathers, tribute large, and on the board And colours dipt in Heav'n; the third his feet Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the grape Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail, She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths Sky-tinctur'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood, From many a berry, and from sweet kernels pressid And shook his plumes, that heav'nly fragrance fill'd She tempers dulcet creams; nor these to hold The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands Wants her fit vessels pure; then strows the ground Of angels under watch; and to his state
With rose and odours from the shrub unfum'd. And to his message high in honour rise;
Meanwhile our primitive great sire, to meet
Perfections; in himself was all his state,
On princes, when their rich retinue long
Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. Wild above rule or art; enormous bliss.
Nearer his presence Adam, tho' not aw'd, Him through the spicy forest onward come
Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, Adam discern'd, as in the door he sat
As to a superior nature, bowing low, Of his cool bow'r, while now the mounted sun Thus said. Native of Heav'n, for other place Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm [needs: None can than Heav'n such glorious shape contain ; Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam Since by descending from the thrones above, And Eve within, due at her hour, prepar'd
Those happy places thou hast deign'd a while For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please
To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us True appetite, and not disrelish thirst
Two only, who yet by sov'reign gift possess Of nect'rous draughts between, from milky stream, This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower Berry or grape: to whom thus Adam callid:
To rest, and what the garden choicest bears Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight behold To sit and taste, till this meridian heat Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape Be over, and the sun more cool decline. Comes this way moving; seems another morn Whom thus th' angelic Virtue answer'd mild: Ris'n on mid-noon; some great behest from Heaven Adam, I therefore came; nor art thou such To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe
Created, or such place hast here to dwell, This day to be our guest. But go with speed, As may not oft invite, tho' Spirits of Heaven, And what thy stores contain, bring forth, and pour To visit thee; lead on then where thy bower Abundance, fit to honour and receive
O'ershades; for these mid-hours, till ev'ning rise,
I have at will. So to the sylvan lodge
Through Spirits with ease ; nor wonder, if by fire They came, that like Pomona's arbour smil'd Of sooty coal th’ empiric alchemist With flow’rets deck'd and fragrant smells; but Eve Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, Undeck’d, save with herself, more lovely fair
Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold Than Wood-Nymph, or the fairest Goddess feign'd As from the mine. Mean while at table Eve Of three that in mount Ida naked strove,
Minister'd naked, and their flowing cups Stood to entertain her guest from Heav'n; no veil With pleasant liquors crown'd: O innocence She needed, virtue-proof; no thought infirm Deserving Paradise ! if ever, then, Alter'd her cheek. On whom the Angel hail Then had the sons of God excuse to have been Bestow'd, the holy salutation usd
Enamour'd at that sight; but in those hearts Long after to blest Mary, second Eve.
Love unlibidinous reign’d, nor jealousy
RAPHAEL'S ACCOUNT OF THE CREATheir table was, and mossy seats had round,
TION. And on ber ample square from side to side
Let there be light, said God, and forth with light All autumn pil'd, tho' spring and autumn here
Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, Danc'd hand in hand. Awhile discourse they hold: Sprung from the deep, and from her native east No fear lest dinner cool; when thus began
To journey through the airy gloom began, Our Author. Heav'nly stranger, please to taste
Spher'd in a radiant cloud; for yet the sun These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom Was not; she in a cloudy tabernacle All perfect good, unmeasur'd out, descends, Sojourn’d the while; God saw the light was good; To us for food and for delight hath caus'd
And light from darkness by the hemisphere The earth to yield; unsavoury food perhaps Divided: light the day, and darkness night To spiritual natures; only this I know,
He nam'd. Thus was the first day ev'n and morn: That one celestial Father gives to all.
Nor past uncelebrated, nor unsung To whom the Angel. Therefore what he gives By the celestial quires, when orient light (Whose praise be ever sung) to man in part
Exhaling first from darkness, they beheld; Spiritual, may of purest Spirits be found
Birth-day of Heav'n and Earth ; with joy and shout No ingrateful food : and food alike those pure The hollow universal orb they fillid, Intelligential substances require,
And touch'd their golden harps, and hymning prais'd As doth your rational; and both contain
God and his works, Creator, him they sung, Within them every lower faculty
Both when first evening was, and when first morn. Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste, Again, said God, let there be firmament Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate,
Amid the waters, and let it divide And corporeal to incorporeal turn.
The waters from the waters: and God made For know, whatever was created, needs
The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure, To be sustain's and fed; of elements
Transparent, elemental air, diffus'd
In circuit to the uttermost convex
The waters underneath from those above
Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide Nor doth the moon no nourishments exhale
Christalline ocean, and the loud misrule From her moist continent to higher orbs.
Of Chaos far remov’d, lest fierce extremes The sun, that light imparts to all, receives
Contiguous might distemper the whole frame : irom all bis alimental recompense
And Heav'n he nam'd the firmament: so even E humid exhalations, and at even
And morning chorus sung the second day.
Of waters, embryon immature involv’d,
Fermented the great mother to conceive,
Into one place, and let dry land appear.
Immediately the mountains huge appear Of theologians; but with keen dispatch
Emergent, and their bare broad backs upheave Of real hunger, and concoctive heat
Into the clouds, their tops ascend the sky: To transubstantiate: what redounds, transpires So high as heav'd the tumid hills, so low
Down sunk a hollow bottom, broad and deep,
And saw that it was good, and said, Let th' Earth
With tufts the vallies, and each fountain side;
Again th' Almighty spake, Let there be lights High in th' expanse of Heaven, to divide The day from night; and let them be for signs, For seasons, and for days, and circling years, And let them be for lights, as I ordain Their office in the firmament of Heav'n To give light on the Earth; and it was so. And God made two great lights, great for their use To man, the greater to have rule by day, The less by night altern; and made the stars, And set them in the firmament of Heav'n,
Tilluminate the Earth, and rule the day
A mighty sphere he fram'd, unlightsome first,
His longitude thro' Heav'n's high road; the gray
And every bird of wing after his kind;
And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying,
And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill;