| |
| NOW Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime | |
| Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, | |
| When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep | |
| Was aerie light, from pure digestion bred, | |
| And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound | 5 |
| Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora’s fan, | |
| Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song | |
| Of birds on every bough. So much the more | |
| His wonder was to find unwakened Eve, | |
| With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, | 10 |
| As through unquiet rest. He, on his side | |
| Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love | |
| Hung over her enamoured, and beheld | |
| Beauty which, whether waking or asleep, | |
| Shot forth peculiar graces; then, with voice | 15 |
| Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, | |
| Her hand soft touching, whispered thus:—“Awake, | |
| My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, | |
| Heaven’s last, best gift, my ever-new delight! | |
| Awake! the morning shines, and the fresh field | 20 |
| 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.” | 25 |
| Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye | |
| On Adam; whom imbracing, thus she spake:— | |
| “O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, | |
| My glory, my perfection! glad I see | |
| Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night | 30 |
| (Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed, | |
| If dreamed, 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 | 35 |
| Close at mine ear one called 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 | 40 |
| Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song; now reigns | |
| Full-orbed 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, | 45 |
| 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 passed through ways | 50 |
| That brought me on a sudden to the Tree | |
| Of interdicted Knowledge. Fair it seemed, | |
| Much fairer to my fancy than by day; | |
| And, as I wondering looked, beside it stood | |
| One shaped and winged like one of those from Heaven | 55 |
| By us oft seen: his dewy locks distilled | |
| Ambrosia. On that Tree he also gazed; | |
| And, ‘O fair plant,’ said he, ‘with fruit surcharged, | |
| Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet, | |
| Nor God nor Man? Is knowledge so despised? | 60 |
| Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste? | |
| Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold | |
| Longer thy offered good, why else set here? | |
| This said, he paused not, but with ventrous arm | |
| He plucked, he tasted. Me damp horror chilled | 65 |
| At such bold words vouched with a deed so bold; | |
| But he thus, overjoyed: ‘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! | 70 |
| And why not gods of men, since good, the more | |
| Communicated, more abundant grows, | |
| The author not impaired, but honoured more? | |
| Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve! | |
| Partake thou also: happy though thou art, | 75 |
| Happier thou may’st be, worthier canst not be. | |
| Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods | |
| Thyself a goddess; not to Earth confined, | |
| But sometimes in the Air; as we; sometimes | |
| Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and see | 80 |
| 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 plucked: the pleasant savoury smell | |
| So quickened appetite that I, methought, | 85 |
| Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds | |
| With him I flew, and underneath beheld | |
| The Earth outstretched immense, a prospect wide | |
| And various. Wondering at my flight and change | |
| To this high exaltation, suddenly | 90 |
| My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down, | |
| And fell asleep; but, O, how glad I waked | |
| To find this but a dream!” Thus Eve her night | |
| Related, and thus Adam answered sad:— | |
| “Best image of myself, and dearer half, | 95 |
| 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 none, | |
| Created pure. But know that in the soul | 100 |
| 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, aerie shapes, | 105 |
| 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, mimic Fancy wakes | 110 |
| 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, | 115 |
| But with addition strange. Yet be not sad: | |
| Evil into the mind of God or Man | |
| May come and go, so unapproved, and leave | |
| No spot or blame behind; which gives me hope | |
| That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream | 120 |
| Waking thou never wilt consent to do. | |
| Be not disheartened, 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 imployments rise | 125 |
| Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers, | |
| That open now their choicest bosomed smells, | |
| Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store.” | |
| So cheered he his fair spouse; and she was cheered, | |
| But silently a gentle tear let fall | 130 |
| From either eye, and wiped them with her hair: | |
| Two other precious drops that ready stood, | |
| Each in their crystal sluice, he, ere they fell, | |
| Kissed as the gracious signs of sweet remorse | |
| And pious awe, that feared to have offended. | 135 |
| So all was cleared, and to the field they haste. | |
| But first, from under shady arborous roof | |
| Soon as they forth were come to open sight | |
| Of day-spring, and the Sun—who, scarce uprisen, | |
| With wheels yet hovering o’er the ocean-brim, | 140 |
| Shot parallel to the Earth his dewy ray, | |
| Discovering in wide lantskip all the east | |
| Of Paradise and Eden’s happy plains— | |
| Lowly they bowed, adoring, and began | |
| Their orisons, each morning duly paid | 145 |
| In various style; for neither various style | |
| Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise | |
| Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced, or sung | |
| Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence | |
| Flowed from their lips, in prose or numerous verse, | 150 |
| More tuneable than needed lute or harp | |
| To add more sweetness. And they thus began:— | |
| “These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, | |
| Almighty! thine this universal frame, | |
| Thus wondrous fair: Thyself how wondrous then! | 155 |
| Unspeakable! who sitt’st above these heavens | |
| To us invisible, or dimly seen | |
| In these thy lowest works; yet these declare | |
| Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. | |
| Speak, ye who best can tell, ye Sons of Light, | 160 |
| Angels—for ye behold him, and with songs | |
| And choral symphonies, day without night, | |
| Circle his throne rejoicing—ye in Heaven; | |
| On Earth join, all ye creatures, to extol | |
| Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. | 165 |
| Fairest of Stars, last in the train of Night, | |
| If better thou belong not to the Dawn, | |
| Sure pledge of day, that crown’st the smiling morn | |
| With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere | |
| While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. | 170 |
| Thou Sun, of this great World both eye and soul, | |
| Acknowledge him thy Greater; sound his praise | |
| In thy eternal course, both when thou climb’st, | |
| And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fall’st. | |
| Moon, that now meet’st the orient Sun, now fliest, | 175 |
| With the fixed Stars, fixed in their orb that flies; | |
| And ye five other wandering Fires, that move | |
| In mystic dance, not without song, reasound | |
| His praise who out of Darkness called up Light. | |
| Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth | 180 |
| Of Nature’s womb, that in quaternion run | |
| Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix | |
| And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change | |
| Vary to our great Maker still new praise. | |
| Ye Mists and Exhalations, that now rise | 185 |
| From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray, | |
| Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, | |
| In honour to the World’s great Author rise; | |
| Whether to deck with clouds the uncoloured sky, | |
| Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, | 190 |
| Rising or falling, still advance his praise. | |
| His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, | |
| Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines, | |
| With every Plant, in sign of worship wave. | |
| Fountains, and ye, that warble, as ye flow, | 195 |
| Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. | |
| Join voices, all ye living Souls. Ye Birds, | |
| That, singing, up to Heaven-gate ascend, | |
| Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. | |
| Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk | 200 |
| The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep, | |
| Witness if I be silent, morn or even, | |
| To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade, | |
| Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. | |
| Hail, universal Lord! Be bounteous still | 205 |
| To give us only good; and, if the night | |
| Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed, | |
| Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.” | |
| So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts | |
| Firm peace recovered soon, and wonted calm. | 210 |
| On to their morning’s rural work they haste, | |
| Among sweet dews and flowers, where any row | |
| Of fruit-trees, over-woody, reached too far | |
| Their pampered boughs, and needed hands to check | |
| Fruitless imbraces; or they led the vine | 215 |
| To wed her elm; she, spoused, about him twines | |
| Her marriageable arms, and with her brings | |
| Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn | |
| His barren leaves. Them thus imployed beheld | |
| With pity Heaven’s high King, and to him called | 220 |
| Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deigned | |
| To travel with Tobias, and secured | |
| His marriage with the seven-times-wedded maid. | |
| “Raphael,” said he, “thou hear’st what stir on Earth | |
| Satan, from Hell scaped through the darksome Gulf, | 225 |
| Hath raised in Paradise, and how disturbed | |
| This night the human pair; now he designs | |
| In them at once to ruin all mankind. | |
| Go, therefore; half this day, as friend with friend, | |
| Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade | 230 |
| Thou find’st him from the heat of noon retired | |
| To respite his day-labour with repast | |
| Or with repose; and such discourse bring on | |
| As may advise him of his happy state— | |
| Happiness in his power left free to will, | 235 |
| Left to his own free will, his will though free | |
| Yet mutable. Whence warn him to beware | |
| He swerve not, too secure: tell him withal | |
| His danger, and from whom; what enemy, | |
| Late fallen himself from Heaven, is plotting now | 240 |
| The fall of others from like state of bliss. | |
| By violence? no, for that shall be withstood; | |
| But by deceit and lies. This let him know, | |
| Lest, wilfully transgressing, he pretend | |
| Surprisal, unadmonished, unforewarned.” | 245 |
| So spake the Eternal Father, and fulfilled | |
| All justice. Nor delayed the winged Saint | |
| After his charge received; but from among | |
| Thousand celestial Ardours, where he stood | |
| Veiled with his gorgeous wings, upspringing light, | 250 |
| Flew through the midst of Heaven. The angelic quires | |
| On each hand parting, to his speed gave way | |
| Through all the empyreal road, till, at the gate | |
| Of Heaven arrived, the gate self-opened wide, | |
| On golden hinges turning, as by work | 255 |
| Divine the sovran Architect had framed. | |
| From hence—no cloud or, to obstruct his sight, | |
| Star interposed, however small—he sees, | |
| Not unconform to other shining globes, | |
| Earth, and the Garden of God, with cedars crowned | 260 |
| Above all hills; as when by night the glass | |
| Of Galileo, less assured, observes | |
| Imagined lands and regions in the Moon; | |
| Or pilot from amidst the Cyclades | |
| Delos or Samos first appearing kens, | 265 |
| A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight | |
| He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky | |
| Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing | |
| Now on the polar winds; then with quick fan | |
| Winnows the buxom air, till, within soar | 270 |
| Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems | |
| A phœnix, gazed by all, as that sole bird, | |
| When, to enshrine his relics in the Sun’s | |
| Bright temple, to Ægyptian Thebes he flies. | |
| At once on the eastern cliff of Paradise | 275 |
| He lights, and to his proper shape returns, | |
| A Seraph winged. Six wings he wore, to shade | |
| His lineaments divine: the pair that clad | |
| Each shoulder broad came mantling o’er his breast | |
| With regal ornament; the middle pair | 280 |
| Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round | |
| Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold | |
| And colours dipt in heaven; the third his feet | |
| Shadowed from either heel with feathered mail, | |
| Sky-tinctured grain. Like Maia’s son he stood, | 285 |
| And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance filled | |
| The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands | |
| Of Angels under watch, and to his state | |
| And to his message high in honour rise; | |
| For on some message high they guessed him bound. | 290 |
| Their glittering tents he passed, and now is come | |
| Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, | |
| And flowering odours, cassia, nard, and balm, | |
| A wilderness of sweets; for Nature here | |
| Wantoned as in her prime, and played at will | 295 |
| Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, | |
| Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss. | |
| Him, through the spicy forest onward come, | |
| Adam discerned, as in the door he sat | |
| Of his cool bower, while now the mounted Sun | 300 |
| Shot down direct his fervid rays, to warm | |
| Earth’s inmost womb, more warmth than Adam needs’ | |
| And Eve, within, due at her hour, prepared | |
| For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please | |
| True appetite, and not disrelish thirst | 305 |
| Of nectarous draughts between, from milky stream, | |
| Berry or grape: to whom thus Adam called:— | |
| “Haste hither, Eve, and, worth thy sight, behold | |
| Eastward among those trees what glorious Shape | |
| Comes this way moving; seems another morn | 310 |
| Risen on mid-noon. Some great behest from Heaven | |
| To us perhaps he brings, and will voutsafe | |
| This day to be our guest. But go with speed, | |
| And what thy stores contain bring forth, and pour | |
| Abundance fit to honour and receive | 315 |
| Our heavenly stranger; well may we afford | |
| Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow | |
| From large bestowed, where Nature multiplies | |
| Her fertile growth, and by disburdening grows | |
| More fruitful; which instructs us not to spare.” | 320 |
| To whom thus Eve:—“Adam, Earth’s hallowed mould, | |
| Of God inspired, small store will serve where store, | |
| All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk; | |
| Save what, by frugal storing, firmness gains | |
| To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes. | 325 |
| But I will haste, and from each bough and brake, | |
| Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such choice | |
| To entertain our Angel-guest as he, | |
| Beholding, shall confess that here on Earth | |
| God hath dispensed his bounties as in Heaven.” | 330 |
| So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste | |
| She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent | |
| What choice to choose for delicacy best, | |
| What order so contrived as not to mix | |
| Tastes, not well joined, inelegant, but bring | 335 |
| Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change: | |
| Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk | |
| Whatever Earth, all-bearing mother, yields | |
| In India East or West, or middle shore | |
| In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where | 340 |
| Alcinous reigned, fruit of all kinds, in coat | |
| Rough or smooth-rined, or bearded husk, or shell, | |
| She gathers, tribute large, and on the board | |
| Heaps with unsparing hand. For drink the grape | |
| She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths | 345 |
| From many a berry, and from sweet kernels pressed | |
| She tempers dulcet creams—nor those to hold | |
| Wants her fit vessels pure; then strews the ground | |
| With rose and odours from the shrub unfumed. | |
| Meanwhile our primitive great Sire, to meet | 350 |
| His godlike guest, walks forth, without more train | |
| Accompanied than with his own complete | |
| Perfections; in himself was all his state, | |
| More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits | |
| On princes, when their rich retin’ue long | 355 |
| Of horses led and grooms besmeared with gold | |
| Dazzles the crowd and sets them all agape. | |
| Nearer his presence, Adam, though not awed, | |
| Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, | |
| As to a superior nature, bowing low, | 360 |
| Thus said:—“Native of Heaven (for other place | |
| None can than Heaven such glorious Shape contain), | |
| Since, by descending from the Thrones above, | |
| Those happy places thou hadst deigned a while | |
| To want, and honour these, voutsafe with us, | 365 |
| Two only, who yet by sovran gift possess | |
| This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower | |
| To rest, and what the Garden choicest bears | |
| To sit and taste, till this meridian heat | |
| Be over, and the sun more cool decline.” | 370 |
| Whom thus the angelic Virtue answered mild:— | |
| “Adam, I therefore came; nor art thou such | |
| Created, or such place hast here to dwell, | |
| As may not oft invite, though Spirits of Heaven, | |
| To visit thee. Lead on, then, where thy bower | 375 |
| O’ershades; for these mid-hours, till evening rise, | |
| I have at will. “So to the sylvan lodge | |
| They came, that like Pomona’s arbour smiled, | |
| With flowerets decked and fragrant smells. But Eve, | |
| Undecked, save with herself, more lovely fair | 380 |
| Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feigned | |
| Of three that in Mount Ida naked strove, | |
| Stood to entertain her guest from Heaven; no veil | |
| She needed, virtue-proof; no thought infirm | |
| Altered her cheek. On whom the Angel “Hail!” | 385 |
| Bestowed—the holy salutation used | |
| Long after to blest Mary, second Eve:— | |
| “Hail! Mother of mankind, whose fruitful womb | |
| Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons | |
| Than with these various fruits the trees of God | 390 |
| Have heaped this table!” Raised of grassy turf | |
| Their table was, and mossy seats had round, | |
| And on her ample square, from side to side, | |
| All Autumn piled, though Spring and Autumn here | |
| Danced hand-in-hand. A while discourse they hold— | 395 |
| No fear lest dinner cool—when thus began | |
| Our Author:—“Heavenly Stranger, please to taste | |
| These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom | |
| All perfect good, unmeasured-out, descends. | |
| To us for food and for delight hath caused | 400 |
| The Earth to yield: unsavoury food, perhaps, | |
| To Spiritual Natures; only this I know, | |
| That one Celestial Father gives to all.” | |
| To whom the Angel:—“Therefore, what he gives | |
| (Whose praise be ever sung) to Man, in part | 405 |
| Spiritual, may of purest Spirits be found | |
| No ingrateful food: and food alike those pure | |
| Intelligential substances require | |
| As doth your Rational; and both contain | |
| Within them every lower faculty | 410 |
| Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste, | |
| Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate, | |
| And corporeal to incorporeal turn. | |
| For know, whatever was created needs | |
| To be sustained and fed. Of Elements | 415 |
| The grosser feeds the purer: Earth the Sea; | |
| Earth and the Sea feed Air; the Air those Fires | |
| Ethereal, and, as lowest, first the Moon; | |
| Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurged, | |
| Vapours not yet into her substance turned. | 420 |
| Nor doth the Moon no nourishment exhale | |
| From her moist continent to higher Orbs. | |
| The Sun, that light imparts to all, receives | |
| From all his alimental recompense | |
| In humid exhalations, and at even | 425 |
| Sups with the Ocean. Though in Heaven the trees | |
| Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines | |
| Yield nectar—though from off the boughs each morn | |
| We brush mellifluous dews and find the ground | |
| Covered with pearly grain—yet God hath here | 430 |
| Varied his bounty so with new delights | |
| As may compare with Heaven; and to taste | |
| Think not I shall be nice.” So down they sat, | |
| And to their viands fell; nor seemingly | |
| The Angel, nor in mist—the common gloss | 435 |
| Of theologians—but with keen dispatch | |
| Of real hunger, and concoctive heat | |
| To transubstantiate: what redounds transpires | |
| Through Spirits with ease; nor wonder, if by fire | |
| Of sooty coal the Empiric Alchimist | 440 |
| Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, | |
| Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold, | |
| As from the mine. Meanwhile at table Eve | |
| Ministered naked, and their flowing cups | |
| With pleasant liquors crowned. O innocence | 445 |
| Deserving Paradise! If ever, then, | |
| Then had the Sons of God excuse to have been | |
| Enamoured at that sight. But in those hearts | |
| Love unlibidinous reigned, nor jealousy | |
| Was understood, the injured lover’s hell. | 450 |
| Thus when with meats and drinks they had sufficed, | |
| Not burdened nature, sudden mind arose | |
| In Adam not to let the occasion pass, | |
| Given him by this great conference, to know | |
| Of things above his world, and of their being | 455 |
| Who dwell in Heaven, whose excellence he saw | |
| Transcend his own so far, whose radiant forms, | |
| Divine effulgence, whose high power so far | |
| Exceeded human; and his wary speech | |
| Thus to the empyreal minister he framed:— | 460 |
| Inhabitant with God, now know I well | |
| They favour, in this honour done to Man; | |
| Under whose lowly roof thou hast voutsafed | |
| To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, | |
| Food not of Angels, yet accepted so | 465 |
| As that more willingly thou couldst not seem | |
| At Heaven’s high feasts to have fed: yet what compare!” | |
| To whom the wingèd Hierarch replied:— | |
| “O Adam, one almighty is, from whom | |
| All things proceed, and up to him return, | 470 |
| If not depraved from good, created all | |
| Such to perfection; one first matter all, | |
| Indued with various forms, various degrees | |
| Of substance, and, in things that live, of life; | |
| But more refined, more spiritous and pure, | 475 |
| As nearer to him placed or nearer tending | |
| Each in their several active spheres assigned, | |
| Till body up to spirit work, in bounds | |
| Proportioned to each kind. So from the root | |
| Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves | 480 |
| More aerie, last the bright consummate flower | |
| Spirits odorous breathes: flowers and their fruit, | |
| Man’s nourishment, by gradual scale sublimed, | |
| To vital spirits aspire, to animal, | |
| To intellectual; give both life and sense, | 485 |
| Fancy and understanding; whence the Soul | |
| Reason receives, and Reason is her being, | |
| Discursive, or Intuitive: Discourse | |
| Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours, | |
| Differing but in degree, of kind the same. | 490 |
| Wonder not, then, what God for you saw good | |
| If I refuse not, but convert, as you, | |
| To proper substance. Time may come when Men | |
| With Angels may participate, and find | |
| No inconvenient diet, nor too light fare; | 495 |
| And from these corporal nutriments, perhaps, | |
| Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit, | |
| Improved by tract of time, and winged ascend | |
| Ethereal, as we, or may at choice | |
| Here or in heavenly paradises dwell, | 500 |
| If ye be found obedient, and retain | |
| Unalterably firm his love entire | |
| Whose progeny you are. Meanwhile enjoy, | |
| Your fill, what happiness this happy state | |
| Can comprehend, incapable of more.” | 505 |
| To whom the Patriarch of Mankind replied:— | |
| “O favourable Spirit, propitious guest, | |
| Well hast thou taught the way that might direct | |
| Our knowledge, and the scale of Nature set | |
| From centre to circumference, whereon, | 510 |
| In contemplation of created things, | |
| By steps we may ascend to God. But say, | |
| What meant that caution joined, If ye be found | |
| Obedient? Can we want obedience, then, | |
| To him, or possibly his love desert, | 515 |
| Who formed us from the dust, and placed us here | |
| Full to the utmost measure of what bliss | |
| Human desires can seek or apprehend?” | |
| To whom the Angel:—“Son of Heaven and Earth, | |
| Attend! That thou art happy, owe to God; | 520 |
| That thou continuest such, owe to thyself, | |
| That is, to thy obedience; therein stand. | |
| This was that caution given thee; be advised. | |
| God made thee perfect, not immutable; | |
| And good he made thee; but to persevere | 525 |
| He left it in thy power—ordained thy will | |
| By nature free, not over-ruled by fate | |
| Inextricable, or strict necessity. | |
| Our voluntary service he requires, | |
| Not our necessitated. Such with him | 530 |
| Finds no acceptance, nor can find; for how | |
| Can hearts not free be tried whether they serve | |
| Willing or no, who will but what they must | |
| By destiny, and can no other choose? | |
| Myself, and all the Angelic Host, that stand | 535 |
| In sight of god enthroned, our happy state | |
| Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds. | |
| On other surety none: freely we serve, | |
| Because we freely love, as in our will | |
| To love or not; in this we stand or fall. | 540 |
| And some are fallen, to disobedience fallen, | |
| And so from Heaven to deepest Hell. Of fall | |
| From what high state of bliss into what woe!” | |
| To whom our great Progenitor:—“Thy words | |
| Attentive, and with more delighted ear, | 545 |
| Divine instructor, I have heard, than when | |
| Cherubic songs by night from neighbouring hills | |
| Aerial music send. Nor knew I not | |
| To be, both will and deed, created free. | |
| Yet that we never shall forget to love | 550 |
| Our Maker, and obey him whose command | |
| Single is yet so just, my constant thoughts | |
| Assured me, and still assure; though what thou tell’st | |
| Hath passed in Heaven some doubt within me move, | |
| But more desire to hear, if thou consent, | 555 |
| The full relation, which must needs be strange, | |
| Worthy of sacred silence to be heard. | |
| And we have yet large day, for scarce the Sun | |
| Hath finished half his journey, and scarce begins | |
| His other half in the great zone of heaven.” | 560 |
| Thus Adam made request; and Raphael, | |
| After short pause assenting, thus began:— | |
| “High matter thou injoin’st me, O prime of Men— | |
| Sad task and hard; for how shall I relate | |
| To human sense the invisible exploits | 565 |
| Of warring Spirits? how, without remorse, | |
| The ruin of so many, glorious once | |
| And perfect while they stood? how, last, unfold | |
| The secrets of another world, perhaps | |
| Not lawful to reveal? Yet for thy good | 570 |
| This is dispensed; and what surmounts the reach | |
| Of human sense I shall delineate so, | |
| By likening spiritual to corporal forms, | |
| As may express them best—though what if Earth | |
| Be but the shadow of Heaven, and things therein | 575 |
| Each to other like more than on Earth is thought! | |
| “As yet this World was not, and Chaos wild | |
| Reigned where these heavens now rowl, where Earth now rests | |
| Upon her centre poised, when on a day | |
| (For Time, though in Eternity, applied | 580 |
| To motion, measures all things durable | |
| By present, past, and future), on such day | |
| As Heaven’s great year brings forth, the empyreal host | |
| Of Angels, by imperial summons called, | |
| Innumerable before the Almighty’s throne | 585 |
| Forthwith from all the ends of Heaven appeared | |
| Under their hierarchs in orders bright. | |
| Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanced, | |
| Standards and gonfalons, ’twixt van and rear | |
| Stream in the air, and for distinction serve | 590 |
| Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees: | |
| Or in their glittering tissues bear imblazed | |
| Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love | |
| Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs | |
| Of circuit inexpressible they stood, | 595 |
| Orb within orb, the Father Infinite, | |
| By whom in bliss imbosomed sat the Son, | |
| Amidst, as from a flaming Mount, whose top | |
| Brightness had made invisible, thus spake: | |
| “‘Hear, all ye Angels, Progeny of Light, | 600 |
| Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers, | |
| Hear my decree, which unrevoked shall stand! | |
| This day I have begot whom I declare | |
| My only Son, and on this holy hill | |
| Him have anointed, whom ye now behold | 605 |
| At my right hand. Your head I him appoint, | |
| And by myself have sworn to him shall bow | |
| All knees in Heaven, and shall confess him Lord. | |
| Under his great vicegerent reign abide, | |
| United as one individual soul, | 610 |
| For ever happy. Him who disobeys | |
| Me disobeys, breaks union, and, that day, | |
| Cast out form God and blessed vision, falls | |
| Into utter darkness, deep ingulfed, his place | |
| Ordained without redemption, without end.’ | 615 |
| “So spake the Omnipotent, and with his words | |
| All seemed well pleased; all seemed, but were not all. | |
| That day, as other solemn days, they spent | |
| In song and dance about the sacred Hill— | |
| Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere | 620 |
| Of planets and of fixed in all her wheels | |
| Resembles, nearest; mazes intricate, | |
| Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular | |
| Then most when most irregular they seem; | |
| And in their motions harmony divine | 625 |
| So smooths her charming tones that God’s own ear | |
| Listens delighted. Evening now approached | |
| (For we have also our evening and our morn— | |
| We ours for change delectable, not need); | |
| Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn | 630 |
| Desirous: all in circles as they stood, | |
| Tables are set, and on a sudden piled | |
| With Angels’ food; and rubied nectar flows | |
| In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, | |
| Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heaven. | 635 |
| On flowers reposed, and with fresh flowerets crowned, | |
| They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet | |
| Quaff immortality and joy, secure | |
| Of surfeit where full measure only bounds | |
| Excess, before the all-bounteous King, who showered | 640 |
| With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. | |
| Now when ambrosial Night, with clouds exhaled | |
| From that high mount of God whence light and shade | |
| Spring both, the face of brightest Heaven had changed | |
| To grateful twilight (for Night comes not there | 645 |
| In darker veil), and roseate dews disposed | |
| All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest, | |
| Wide over all the plain, and wider far | |
| Than all this globous Earth in plain outspread | |
| (Such are the Courts of God), the Angelic throng, | 650 |
| Dispersed in bands and files, their camp extend | |
| By living streams among the trees of life— | |
| Pavilions numberless and sudden reared, | |
| Celestial tabernacles, where they slept, | |
| Fanned with cool winds; save those who, in their course, | 655 |
| Melodious hymns about the sovran Throne | |
| Alternate all night long. But not so waked | |
| Satan—so call him now; his former name | |
| Is heard no more in Heaven. He, of the first, | |
| If not the first Archangel, great in power, | 660 |
| In favour, and preëminence, yet fraught | |
| With envy against the Son of God, that day | |
| Honoured by his great Father, and proclaimed | |
| Messiah, King Anointed, could not bear, | |
| Through pride, that sight, and thought himself impaired. | 665 |
| Deep malice thence conceiving and disdain, | |
| Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour | |
| Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolved | |
| With all his legions to dislodge, and leave | |
| Unworshiped, unobeyed, the Throne supreme. | 670 |
| Contemptuous, and, his next subordinate | |
| Awakening, thus to him in secret spake:— | |
| “‘Sleep’st thou, companion dear? what sleep can close | |
| Thy eyelids? and rememberest what decree, | |
| Of yesterday, so late hath passed the lips | 675 |
| Of Heaven’s Almighty? Thou to me thy thoughts | |
| Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont, to impart; | |
| Both waking we were one; how, then, can now | |
| Thy sleep dissent? New laws thou seest imposed; | |
| New laws from him who reigns new minds may raise | 680 |
| In us who serve—new counsels, to debate | |
| What doubtful may ensue. More in this place | |
| To utter is not safe. Assemble thou | |
| Of all those myriads which we lead the chief; | |
| Tell them that, by command, ere yet dim Night | 685 |
| Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste, | |
| And all who under me their banners wave, | |
| Homeward with flying march where we possess | |
| The Quarters of the North, there to prepare | |
| Fit entertainment to receive our King, | 690 |
| The great Messiah, and his new commands, | |
| Who speedily through all the Hierarchies | |
| Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws.’ | |
| “So spake the false Archangel, and infused | |
| Bad influence into the unwary breast | 695 |
| Of his associate. He together calls, | |
| Or several one by one, the regent Powers, | |
| Under him regent; tells, as he was taught, | |
| That, the Most High commanding, now ere Night, | |
| Now ere dim Night had disincumbered Heaven, | 700 |
| The great hierarchal standard was to move; | |
| Tells the suggested cause, and casts between | |
| Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound | |
| Or taint integrity. But all obeyed | |
| The wonted signal, and superior voice | 705 |
| Of their great Potentate; for great indeed | |
| His name, and high was his degree in Heaven: | |
| His countenance, as the morning-star that guides | |
| The starry flock allured them, and with lies | |
| Drew after him the third part of Heaven’s host. | 710 |
| Meanwhile, the Eternal Eye, whose sight discerns | |
| Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy Mount, | |
| And from within the golden Lamps that burn | |
| Nightly before him, saw without their light | |
| Rebellion rising—saw in whom, how spread | 715 |
| Among the Sons of Morn, what multitudes | |
| Were banded to oppose his high decree; | |
| And, smiling, to his only Son thus said:— | |
| “‘Son, thou in whom my glory I behold | |
| In full resplendence, Heir of all my might, | 720 |
| Nearly it now concerns us to be sure | |
| Of our Omnipotence, and with what arms | |
| We mean to hold what anciently we claim | |
| Of deity or empire: such a foe | |
| Is rising, who intends to erect his throne | 725 |
| Equal to ours, throughout the spacious North; | |
| Nor so content, hath in his thought to try | |
| In battle what our power is or our right. | |
| Let us advise, and to this hazard draw | |
| With speed what force is left, and all imploy | 730 |
| In our defence, lest unawares we lose | |
| This our high place, our Sanctuary, our Hill.’ | |
| “To whom the Son, with calm aspect and clear | |
| Lightening divine, ineffable, serene, | |
| Made answer:—’Mighty Father, thou thy foes | 735 |
| Justly hast in derision, and secure | |
| Laugh’st at their vain designs and tumults vain— | |
| Matter to me of glory, whom their hate | |
| Illustrates, when they see all regal power | |
| Given me to quell their pride, and in event | 740 |
| Know whether I be dextrous to subdue | |
| Thy rebels, or be found the worst in Heaven.’ | |
| “So spake the Son; but Satan with his Powers | |
| Far was advanced on wingèd speed, an host | |
| Innumerable as the stars of night, | 745 |
| Or stars of morning, dew-drops which the sun | |
| Impearls on every leaf and every flower. | |
| Regions they passed, the mighty regencies | |
| Of Seraphim and Potentates and Thrones | |
| In their triple degrees—regions to which | 750 |
| All thy dominion, Adam, is no more | |
| Than what this garden is to all the earth | |
| And all the sea, from one entire globose | |
| Stretched into longitude; which having passed, | |
| At length into the limits of the North | 755 |
| They came, and Satan to his royal seat | |
| High on a hill, far-blazing, as a mount | |
| Raised on a mount, with pyramids and towers | |
| From diamond quarries hewn and rocks of gold— | |
| The palace of great Lucifer (so call | 760 |
| That structure, in the dialect of men | |
| Interpreted) which, not long after, he, | |
| Affecting all equality with God, | |
| In imitation of that mount whereon | |
| Messiah was declared in sight of Heaven, | 765 |
| The Mountain of the Congregation called; | |
| For thither he assembled all his train, | |
| Pretending so commanded to consult | |
| About the great reception of their King | |
| Thither to come, and with calumnious art | 770 |
| Of counterfeited truth thus held their ears:— | |
| “‘Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers— | |
| If these magnific titles yet remain | |
| Not merely titular, since by decree | |
| Another now hath to himself ingrossed | 775 |
| All power, and us eclipsed under the name | |
| Of King Anointed; for whom all this haste | |
| Of midnight march, and hurried meeting here, | |
| This only to consult, how we may best, | |
| With what may be devised of honours new, | 780 |
| Receive him coming to receive from us | |
| Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile! | |
| Too much to one! but double how endured— | |
| To one and to his image now proclaimed? | |
| But what if better counsels might erect | 785 |
| Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke! | |
| Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend | |
| The supple knee? Ye will not, if I trust | |
| To know ye right, or if ye know yourselves | |
| Natives and Sons of Heaven possessed before | 790 |
| By none, and, if not equal all, yet free, | |
| Equally free; for orders and degrees | |
| Jar not with liberty, but well consist. | |
| Who can in reason, then, or right, assume | |
| Monarchy over such as live by right | 795 |
| His equals—if in power and splendour less, | |
| In freedom equal? or can introduce | |
| Law and edict on us, who without law | |
| Err not? much less for this to be our Lord, | |
| And look for adoration, to the abuse | 800 |
| Of those imperial titles which assert | |
| Our being ordained to govern, not to serve! | |
| “Thus far his bold discourse without control | |
| Had audience, when, among the Seraphim, | |
| Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal adored | 805 |
| The Deity, and divine commands obeyed, | |
| Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe | |
| The current of his fury thus opposed:— | |
| “‘O argument blasphe’mous, false, and proud— | |
| Words which no ear ever to hear in Heaven | 810 |
| Expected; least of all from thee, ingrate, | |
| In place thyself so high above thy peers! | |
| Canst thou with impious obloquy condemn | |
| The just decree of God, pronounced and sworn, | |
| That to his only Son, by right endued | 815 |
| With regal sceptre, every soul in Heaven | |
| Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due | |
| Confess him rightful King? Unjust, thou say’st, | |
| Flatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, | |
| And equal over equals to let reign, | 820 |
| One over all with unsucceeded power! | |
| Shalt thou give law to God? shalt thou dispute | |
| With Him the points of liberty, who made | |
| Thee what Thou art, and formed the Powers of Heaven | |
| Such as he pleased, and circumscribed their being? | 825 |
| Yet, by experience taught, we know how good, | |
| And of our good and of our dignity | |
| How provident, he is—how far from thought | |
| To make us less; bent rather to exalt | |
| Our happy state, under one Head more near | 830 |
| United. But—to grant it thee unjust | |
| That equal over equals monarch reign— | |
| Thyself, though great and glorious, dost thou count, | |
| Or all angelic nature joined in one, | |
| Equal to him, begotten Son, by whom, | 835 |
| As by his Word, the mighty Father made | |
| All things, even thee, and all the Spirits of Heaven | |
| By him created in their bright degrees, | |
| Crowned them with glory, and to their glory named | |
| Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers?— | 840 |
| Essential Powers; nor by his reign obscured, | |
| But more illustrious made; since he, the head, | |
| One of our number thus reduced becomes; | |
| His laws our laws; all honour to him done | |
| Returns our own. Cease, then, this impious rage, | 845 |
| And tempt not these; but hasten to appease | |
| The incensèd Father and the incensed Son | |
| While pardon may be found, in time besought.’ | |
| “So spake the fervent Angel; but his zeal | |
| None seconded, as out of season judged, | 850 |
| Or singular and rash. Whereat rejoiced | |
| The Apostat, and, more haughty, thus replied:— | |
| “‘That we were formed, then, say’st thou? and the work | |
| Of secondary hands, by task transferred | |
| From Father to his Son? Strange point and new! | 855 |
| Doctrine which we would know whence learned! Who saw | |
| When this creation was? Remember’st thou | |
| Thy making, while the Maker gave thee being? | |
| We know no time when we were not as now; | |
| Know none before us, self-begot, self-raised | 860 |
| By our own quickening power when fatal course | |
| Had circled his full orb, the birth mature | |
| Of this our native Heaven, Ethereal Sons. | |
| Our puissance is our own; our own right hand | |
| Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try | 865 |
| Who is our equal. Then thou shalt behold | |
| Whether by supplication we intend | |
| Address, and to begirt the Almighty Throne | |
| Beseeching or besieging. This report, | |
| These tidings, carry to the Anointed King; | 870 |
| And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight.’ | |
| “He said; and, as the sound of waters deep, | |
| Hoarse murmur echoed to his words applause | |
| Through the infinite Host. Nor less for that | |
| The flaming Seraph, fearless, though alone, | 875 |
| Encompassed round with foes, thus answered bold:— | |
| “‘O alienate from God, O Spirit accursed, | |
| Forsaken of all good! I see thy fall | |
| Determined, and thy hapless crew involved | |
| In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread | 880 |
| Both of thy crime and punishment. Henceforth | |
| No more be troubled how to quit the yoke | |
| Of God’s Messiah. Those indulgent laws | |
| Will not be now voutsafed; other decrees | |
| Against thee are gone forth without recall; | 885 |
| That golden sceptre which thou didst reject | |
| Is now an iron rod to bruise and break | |
| Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise; | |
| Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly | |
| These wicked tents devoted, lest the wrauth | 890 |
| Impendent, raging into sudden flame, | |
| Distinguish not: for soon expect to feel | |
| His thunder on thy head, devouring fire. | |
| Then who can created thee lamenting learn | |
| When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know.’ | 895 |
| “So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found; | |
| Among the faithless faithful only he; | |
| Among innumerable false unmoved, | |
| Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, | |
| His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal; | 900 |
| Nor number nor example with him wrought | |
| To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, | |
| Though single. From amidst them forth he passed, | |
| Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustained | |
| Superior, nor of violence feared aught; | 905 |
| And with retorted scorn his back he turned | |
| On those proud towers, to swift destruction doomed.” | |
| |
