'I'hat opened wide her blazing portals, led To God's eternal house direct the way; A broad and amy 'e road, whose dust is gold And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear, Seen in the galaxy, that milky way, Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest
And multiply a race of worshippers Holy and just: thrice happy, if they know Their happiness, and persevere upright!
"So sung they, and the empyrean rung With hallelujahs: thus was sabbath kept. And thy request think now fulfilled, that asked
Powdered with stars. And now on earth the How first this world and face of things began, seventh
And what before thy memory was done
From the beginning; that posterity, Informed by thee, might know: if else thou seekest
Of Heaven's high seated top, th' imperial throne Aught, not surpassing human measure, say.”
Of Godhead fixed for ever firm and sure,
The filial power arrived, and sat him down With his great Father: for he also went Invisible, yet stayed (such privilege Hath omnipresence,) and the work ordained, Author and end of all things; and, from work Now resting, blessed and hallowed the seventh day,
As resting on that day from all his work, But not in silence holy kept: the harp Had work, and rested not; the solemn pipe And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, Tempered soft tunings, intermixed with voice Choral or unison: of incense clouds, Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount. Creation and the six days' acts they sung: Great are thy works, Jehovah, infinite
Thy power! what thought can measure thee or tongue
Relate thee! greater now in thy return Than from the giant angels: thee that day Thy thunders magnified; but to create Is greater than created to destroy. Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound Thy empire? easily the proud attempt Of spirits apostate, and their counsels vain, Thou hast repelled, while impiously they thought Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks To lessen thee, against his purpose serves To manifest the more thy might: his evil Thou usest, and from thence createst more good. Witness this new made world, another Heaven From Heaven gate not far, founded in view In the clear hyaline, the glassy sea; Of amplitude almost immense, with stars Numerous, and every star perhaps a world Of destined habitation; but thou knowest Their seasons: among these the seat of men, Earth, with her nether ocean circumfused, Their pleasant dwelling-place. Thrice happy
Adam inquires concerning celestial motions; is doubtfully of knowledge; Adam assents; and, still desirous to detain answered, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy
Raphael, relates to him what he remembered since his own creation; his placing in Paradise; his talk with God concern. ing solitude and fit society; his first meeting and nuptials with Eve; his discourse with the angel thereupon; who, after at monitions repeated, departs.
THE angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice, that he a while Thought him still speaking, still stood fixed to hear;
Then, as new waked, thus gratefully replied. "What thanks sufficient, or what recompense Equal have I to render thee, divine Historian, who thus largely hast allayed The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsafed This friendly condescension to relate Things, else by me unsearchable, now heard With wonder, but delight, and, as is due, With glory attributed to the high Creator? something yet of doubt remains, Which only thy solution can resolve. When I behold this goodly frame, this world, Of Heaven and earth consisting, and compute Their magnitudes; this earth, a spot, a grain, An atom, with the firmament compared And all her numbered stars, that seem to roll Spaces incomprehensible (for such Their distance argues, and their swift return Diurnal) merely to officiate light Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot, One day and night, in all their vast survey Useless besides; reasoning, I oft admire How nature, wise and frugal, could commit Such disproportions, with superfluous hand So many noble bodies to create, Greater so manifold, to this one use
And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanced! For aught appears, and on their orbs impos
Created in his image, there to dwell
And worship him, and in reward to rule Over his works on carth, in sea, or air,
Such restless revolution, day by-day
Repeated; while the sedentary earth,
That better might with far less compass nove,
Or bright infers not excellence: the earth, Though, in comparison of Heaven, so small, Nor glistering, may of solid good contain More plenty than the sun that barren shines,
Served by more noble than herself, attains Her end without least motion, and receives, As tribute, such a sumless journey brought Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light; Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails." | Whose virtue on itself works no effect, So spake our sire, and by his countenance seemed Entering on studious thoughts abstruse; which Eve
Perceiving, where she sat retired in sight, With lowliness majestic from her seat, And grace that won who saw to wish her stay, Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowers, To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom, Her nursery; they at her coming sprung, And, touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew. Yet went she not, as not with such discourse Delighted, or not capable her ear
Of what was high: such pleasure she reserved, Adam relating, she sole auditress; Her husband the relator she preferred Before the angel, and of him to ask
Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute With conjugal caresses; from his lip
Net words alone pleased her. O who meet now Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined? With goddess-like demeanour forth she went, Not unattended, for on her, as queen, A pomp of winning graces waited still, And from about her shot darts of desire Into all eyes, to wish her still in sight.
And Raphael now, to Adam's doubt proposed, Benevolent and facile thus replied.
But in the fruitful earth; there first received, His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries Officious, but to thee, earth's habitant. And for the Heaven's wide circuit, let it speak The Maker's high magnificence, who built So spacious, and his line stretched out so far; That man may know he dwells not in his own; An edifice too large for him to fill, Lodged in a small partition, and the rest Ordained for uses to his Lord best known. The swiftness of those circles attribute, Though numberless, to his omnipotence, That to corporeal substances could add Speed almost spiritual: me thou thinkest not slow Who since the morning hour set out from Heaver Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived. In Eden, distance inexpressible
By numbers that have name. But this I urge, Admitting motion in the Heavens, to show Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved: Not that I so affirm, though so it seem To thee who hast thy dwelling here on earth. God, to remove his ways from human sense, Placed Heaven from earth so far, that earthly sight, If it presume, might err in things too high, And no advantage gain. What if the sur Be centre to the world, and other stars,
"To ask or search I blame thee not; for Heaven By his attractive virtue and their own Is as the book of God before thee set,
Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years: This to attain, whether Heaven move or earth, Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest From man or angel the great Architect Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge His secrets to be scanned by them who ought Rather admire; or, if they list to try Conjecture, he his fabric of the Heavens Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move His laughter at their quaint opinions wide Hereafter, when they come to model Heaven And calculate the stars, how they will wield The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive To save appearances, how gird the sphere With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er, Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb:
Already by thy reasoning this I guess, Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest That bodies bright and greater should not serve The less not bright, nor Heaven such journeys run,
Earth sitting stil', when she alone receives The benefit: consider first, that great
Incited, dance about him various rounds? Their wandering course now high, now low, then hid,
Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,
In six thou seest; and what if seventh to these The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem, Insensibly three different motions move? Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, Moved contrary with thwart obliquities; Or save the sun his labour, and that swift Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed, Invisible else above all stars, the wheel Of day and night; which needs not thy belief, If earth, industrious of herself, fetch day Travelling east, and with her part averse From the sun's beam meet night, her other part Still luminous by his ray. What if that light, Sent from her through the wide transpicuous ai To the terrestrial moon be as a star, Enlightening her by day, as she by night This earth? reciprocal, if land be there. Fields and inhabitants: her spots thou seest As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produc Fruits in her softened soil, for some to eat Allotted there; and other suns perhaps,
With their atter Jant moons, thus wilt descry, Communicating male and female light; Which too great sexes animate the world, Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live. For such vast room in nature unpossessed By living soul, desert and desolate, Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute Each orb a glimpse of light, conveyed so far Down to this habitable, which returns Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. But whether thus these things, or whether not; Whether the sun, predominant in Heaven, Rise on the earth; or earth rise on the sun; He from the east his flaming road begin; Or she from west her silent course advance, With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps On her soft axle, while she paces even, And bears thee soft with the smooth air along; Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid; Leave them to God above; him serve and fear; Of other creatures, as him pleases best, Wherever placed, let him dispose: joy thou In what he gives to thee, this Paradise And thy fair Eve; Heaven is for thee too high To know what passes there; be lowly wise: Think only what concerns thee and thy being; Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there Live, in what state, condition or degree; Contented that thus far hath been revealed, Not of earth only, but of highest Heaven." To whom thus Adam, cleared of doubt, replied, "How fully hast thou satisfied me, pure Intelligence of Heaven, angel serene? And, freed from intricacies, taught to live The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts To interrupt the sweet of life, from which God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, And not molest us unless we ourselves
How subtly to detain thee I devise, Inviting thee to hear while I relate, Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply; For while 1 sit with thee, I seem in Heaven. And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst And hunger both, from labour, at the hour Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill, Though pleasant; but thy words, with grace di vine
Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety."
To whom thus Raphael answered, heaventy meek:
"Nor are thy lips ungraceful, sire of men, Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee Abundantly his gifts hath also poured Inward and outward both, his image fair: Speaking or mute, all comeliness and grace Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms Nor less think we in Heaven of thee on earth Than our fellow-servant, and inquire Gladly into the ways of God with man: For God, we see, hath honoured thee and set On man his equal love: say therefore on; For I that day was absent, as befell, Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, Far on excursion toward the gates of hell; Squared in full legion (such command we had) To see that none thence issued forth a spy, Or enemy, while God was in his work; Lest he, incensed at such eruption bold, Destruction with creation might have mixed; Not that they durst without his leave attempt, But us he sends upon his high behests For state, as sovereign King, and to insure Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shɩ: The dismal gates, and barucadoed strong; But long ere our approaching heard within
Seek them with wand'ring thoughts, and notions Noise other than the sound of dance or song,
But apt the mind or fancy is to rove Unchecked, and of her roving is no end;
Till warned, or by experience taught, she learn, That not to know at large of things remote From use, obscure and subtle, but, to know That which before us lies in daily life, Is the prime wisdom: what is more, is fume, Or emptiness, or fond impertinence,
And renders us, in things that most concern, Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. Therefore from this high pitch let us descend A lower flight, and speak of things at hand Useful; whence haply mention may arise Of something not unseasonable to ask, By sufferance, and thy wonted favour, deigned. Thee I have heard relating what was done Ere my remembrance: now hear me relate My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard; And day is vet not spent; till then thou seest
Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. Glad we returned up to the coasts of light Ere sabbath evening: so we had in charge. But thy relation now; for I attend,
Pleased with thy words no less than thou wite mine."
So spake the godlike power, and thus our sire For man to tell how human life began,
Is hard; for who himself beginning knew? Desire with thee still longer to converse Induced me. As new waked from soundest sleep Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid, In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed. Straight toward Heaven my wondering eyes i turned
And gazed awhile the ample sky; till, raised By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, As thitherward endeavouring, and upright Stood on my feet: about me round I saw
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these, Creatures that lived and moved, and walked, or flew;
Birds on the branches warbling; all things smiled; With fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflowed. Myself I then perused, and limb by limb
Said mildly, Author of all this thou seest Above, or round about thee, or beneath, This Paradise I give thee, count it thine To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat: Of every tree that in the garden grows Eat freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth But of the tree whose operation brings
Surveyed, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set
With supple joints, as lively vigour led:
But who I was, or where, or from what cause,
The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith, Amid the garden by the tree of life,
Knew not; to speak I tried, and forthwith spake; | Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste,
My tongue obeyed, and readily could name
And shun the bitter consequence: for know,
Whate'er I saw,' Thou sun,' said I, 'fair light,The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command
And thou enlightened carth, so fresh and gay, Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here? Not of myself; by some great Maker then, In goodness and in power pre-eminent: Tell me, how may I know him, how adore, From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier than I know.'
Transgressed, inevitably thou shalt die, From that day mortal, and this happy state Shalt lose, expelled from hence into a world Of wo and sorrow.' Sternly he pronounced The rigid interdiction, which resounds Yet dreadful in mine ear, though my choice Not to incur; but soon his clear aspect Returned, and gracious purpose thus renewed. 'Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth
While thus I called, and strayed, I knew not whi- To thee and to thy race I give: as lords ther,
From where I first drew air, and first beheld This happy light, when, answer none returned, On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers Pensive I sat me down; there gentle sleep First found me, and with soft oppression seized My drowsed sense, untroubled, though I thought I then was passing to my former state Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve: When suddenly stood at my head a dream, Whose inward apparition gently moved My fancy to believe I yet had being, And lived: one came, methought, of shape divine, And said, 'Thy mansion wants thee Adam; rise, First man, of men innumerable ordained First father! called by thee, I come thy guide To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepared.' So saying, by the hand he took me raised, And over fields and waters, as in air Smooth sliding without step, last led me up A woody mountain; whose high top was plain, A circuit wide, enclosed, with goodliest trees Planted, with walks, and bowers, that what I saw Of earth before scarce pleasant seemed. Each tree,
Loaden with fairest fruit that hung to the eye Tempting, stirred in me sudden appetite To pluck and eat; whereat I waked, and found Before mine eyes all real, as the dream Had lively shadowed: here had new begun My wandering, had not he, who was my guide Up hither, from among the trees appeared, Presence divine. Rejoicing, but with awe, In adoration at his feet I fell
Possess it, and all things that therein live, Or live in sea, or air; beast, fish, and fowl. In sign whereof each bird and beast behold After their kinds; I bring them to receive From thee their names, and pay thee fealty With low subjection; understand the same Of fish within their watery residence, Not hither summoned, since they can not change Their element, to draw the thinner air.' As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold Approaching two and two; these cowering low With blandishment; each bird stooped on hu wing.
I named them, as they passed, and understood Their nature, with such knowledge God endued My sudden apprehension: but in these
I found not what methought I wanted still: And to the heavenly vision thus presumed.
"O by what name, for thou above all these, Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher. Surpasseth far my naming, how may I Adore thee, Author of this universe, And all this good to man? for whose well being So amply, and with hands so liberal, Thou hast provided all things: but with me I see not who partakes. In solitude What happiness, who can enjoy alone, Or, all enjoying, what contentment find?' Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright, As with a smile more brightened, thus replied: "What call'st thou solitude? is not the eartt With various living creatures, and the air, Replenished, and all these at thy command To come and plav before thee? knowest thou no
Submiss: he reared me, ' and whom thou sought'st Their language and their ways? they also know
And reason not contemptibly: with these
Find pastime and bear rule; thy realm is large.' So spake the universal Lord, and seemed So ordering. I, with leave of speech implored, And humble deprecation, thus replied.
"Let not my words offend thee, heavenly
My Maker, be propitious while I speak. Hast thou not made me here thy substitute, And these inferior far beneath me set? Among unequals what society Can sort, what harmony or true delight? Which must be mutual, in proportion due Given and received; but in disparity, The one intense, the other still remiss, Can not well suit with either, but soon prove Tedious alike; of fellowship I speak Such as I seek, fit to participate All rational delight, wherein the brute Can not be human consort; they rejoice Each with their kind, lion with lioness; So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined: Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl So well converse, nor with the ox the ape: Worse then can man with beast, and least of all.' "Whereto th' Almighty answered, not dis- pleased.
'A nice and subtle happiness, I see, Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice Of thy associates, Adamn, and wilt taste
No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary.
Of union or communion, deified: I, by conversing, can not these erect From prone; nor in their ways complacence find. Thus I emboldened spake, and freedom used Permissive, and acceptance found; which gained This answer from the gracious voice divine.
"Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased; And find knowing, not of beasts alone, Which thou hast rightly named, but of thyself, Expressing well the spirit within thee free, My image, not imparted to the brute; Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee Good reason wast thou freely shouldst dislike; And be so minded still: I, ere thou spak'st, Knew it not good for man to be alone, And no such company as then thou saw'st Intended thee, for trial only brought,
To see how thou could'st judge of fit and meet- What next I bring shall please thee, be assured, Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desire.'
"He ended, or I heard no more; for now My earthly by his Heavenly overpowered, Which it had long stood under, strained to th height
In that celestial colloquy sublime,
As with an object that excels the sense,
Dazzled and spent, sunk down, and sought repair
Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, called By nature, as in aid, and closed mine eyes.
What think'st thou then of me, and this my state? Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell
Seem I to thee sufficiently possessed
Of happiness, or not? who am alone
From all eternity; for none I know
Second to me or like, equal much less. How have I then with whom to hold converse, Save with the creatures which I made, and those To me inferior, infinite descents Beneath what other creatures are to thee?'
"He ceased; I lowly answered. 'To attain The height and depth of thy eternal ways All human thoughts come short, Supreme things!
Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thee Is no deficience found; not so is man, But in degree; the cause of his desire By conversation with his like to help, Or solace his defects. No need that thou Should'st propagate, already infinite,
And through all numbers absolute, though one; But man by number is to manifest His single imperfection, and beget Like of his like, his image multiplied, In unity defective, which require Collateral love, and dearest amity Thou in thy secrecy, although alone,
Best with thyself accompanied, seek'st not Social communication; yet, so pleased,
Of fancy, my internal sight, by which, Abstract as in a trance, methought I saw, Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape Still glorious before whom awake I stood; Who, stooping, opened my left side, and took From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm, And life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound,
But suddenly with flesh filled up and healed: The rib he formed and fashioned with his hands; of Under his forming hands a creature grew, Manlike, but different sex; so lovely fair,
That what seemed fair in all the world, seemed
Mean, or in her summed up, in her contained And in her looks, which from that time infused Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before, And into all things from her air inspired The spirit of love and amorous delight. She disappeared, and left me dark; I waked To find her, or for ever to deplore Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure: When out of hope, behold her, not far off, Such as I saw her in my dream, adorned With what all earth or Heaven could beszow To make her amiable: on she came, Led by her Heavenly Maker, though unseen.
Canst raise thy creature to what height thou wilt | And guided by his voice; nor uninformed
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