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PARADISE LOST.

BOOK V.

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,
And temperate vapours 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 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,

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 colours, 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 Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk 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-labour'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? "In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment " Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze." I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; To find thee I directed then my walk; And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways That brought me on a sudden to the tree Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seem'd, Much fairer to my fancy than by day: And, as I wondering look'd, beside it stood

One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Heaven By us oft seen; his dewy locks distill'd

Ambrosia; on that tree he also gaz'd;

And "O fair plant," said he, "with fruit surcharg'd, "Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet, "Nor God, nor Man? Is knowledge so despis'd? "Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste? "Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold "Longer thy offer'd good; why else set here?" This said, he paus'd not, but with venturous arm He pluck'd, he tasted; me damp horrour chill'd 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 honour'd more? "Here, happy creature, fair angelick Eve!

❝ Partake thou also; happy though thou art,
"Happier thou may'st be, worthier canst not be:
"Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods
"Thyself a Goddess, not to earth confin'd,
"But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes
"Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and see
"What life the Gods live there, and such live thou!"
So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held,

Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part
Which he had pluck'd; the pleasant savoury smell
So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought,
Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds
With him I flew, and underneath beheld

The earth outstretch'd immense, a prospect wide
And various: Wondering at my flight and change
To this high exaltation; suddenly

My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down,
And fell asleep; but O, how glad I wak'd
To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her night
Related, and thus Adam answer'd sad.

Best image of myself, and dearer half,
The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep
Affects me equally; nor can I like

This uncouth dream, of evil sprung, I fear;
Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour nonė,

Created pure. But know, that in the soul
Are many lesser faculties, that serve
Reason as chief; among these Fancy next
Her office holds; of all external things,
Which the five watchful senses represent,
She forms imaginations, aery shapes,
Which reason, joining or disjoining, frames
All what we affirm or what deny, and call
Our knowledge or opinion; then retires
Into her private cell, when nature rests.
Oft in her absence mimick Fancy wakes
To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes,
Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams;
Ill matching words and deeds long past or late.
Some such resemblances, methinks, I find
Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream,
But with addition strange; yet be not sad.
Evil into the mind of God or Man

May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave
No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope
That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream,
Waking thou never wilt consent to do.

Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud those looks,
That wont to be more cheerful and serene,
Than when fair morning first smiles on the world;
And let us to our fresh employments rise
Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers
That open now their choicest bosom'd smells,

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