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If dream'd, not, as I oft am wont, of thee,
Works of day paft, or morrow's next defign;,
But of offence and trouble, which my mind
Knew never till this irkfome night; methought
Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk
With gentle voice; I thought it thine; it faid:
Why fleep'ft thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time,
The cool, the filent, fave where filence yields
To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
Tunes fweeteft his love- labour'd fong; now reigns
Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleafing light
Shadowy fets off the face of things; in vain
If none regard; heav'n wakes with all his eyes;
Whom to behold but thee, Nature's defire?
In whofe fight all things joy, with ravishment
Attracted by thy beauty ftill to gaze:

I rofe as at thy call, but found thee not;
To find thee I directed then my walk;
And on, methought, alone I pafs'd through ways
That brought me on a fudden to the tree
Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seem'd,
Much fairer to my fancy than by day:
And as I wondring look'd, befide it stood
One fhap'd and wing'd like one of thofe from

By us oft feen; his dewy locks diftill'd
Ambrofia; on that tree he alfo gaz'd;

And, o fair plant, faid he, with fruit surcharg'd
Deigns none to ease thy load, and tafte thy fweet,
Nor God, nor Man? Is knowledge fo defpis'd?
Or envy, or what referve forbids to taste?
Forbid who will, none fhall from me withhold
Longer thy offer'd good; why elfe fet here?
This faid, he paus'd not, but with vent'rous arm
He pluck'd, he tafted: me damp horror chill'd
At fuch bold words vouch'd with a deed so bold.
But he thus overjoy'd, o fruit divine,
Sweet of thy felf, but much more fweet thus
Forbidden here, it feems, as only fit
For god, yet able to make gods of men ;


And why not gods of men, fince good, the more
Communicated, more abundant grows,
The author not impair'd, but honour'd move?
Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve,
Partake thou alfo; happy though thou art,
Happier thou may be, worthier canst not be:
Taite this, and be henceforth among the gods,
Thyfelf a goddess, not to earth confin'd
But fometimes in the air, as we; fometimes
Afcend to heav'n, by merit thine, and fee,
What life the gods live there, and fuch live thou;
So faying, he drew nigh, and to me held
Ev'n to my mouth, of that fame fruit held part
Which he had pluck'd; the pleasant favoury smell
So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought,
Could not but tafte. Forthwith up to the clouds
With him I flew, and underneath beheld
The earth outstretch'd immenfe, a profpect wide
And various: wondring at my flight and change
To this high exaltation; fuddenly

My guide was gone, and I, methought, funk down,
And fell afleep: but o how glad I wak'd,
To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her night
Related, and thus Adam anfwer'd fad.
Beft image of myself, and dearer half,
The trouble of thy thoughts this night in fleep
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 foul
Are many leffer faculties, that ferve
Reafon as chief: among thefe Fancy next
Her office holds; of all external things,
Which the five watchful fenfes reprefent,
She forms imaginations, airy fhapes,
Which reafon 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 refts
Oft in her abfence mimic fancy wakes,
To initate her; but misjoining fhapes,
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Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams
Ill matching words and deeds long paft or late.
Some fuch refemblances, methinks, find
Of our last evenig's talk, in this thy dream,
But with addition ftrange: yet be not fad,
Evil into the mind of God or man

May come and go, fo unapprov'd, and leave
No fpot or blame behind: which gives me hope
That what in fleep thou didst abhor to dream
Waking thou never wilt confent to do.

Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud those looks
That wont to be more chearful and ferene,
Than when fair morning first smiles on the World
And let us to our fresh employments rife

Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers
That open now their choiceft bofom'd smells
Referv'd from night, and kept for thee in ftore.
So chear'd he his fair spouse, and fhe was chear'd,
But filently a gentle tear let fall

From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair;
Two other precious drops that ready stood,
Each in their cryftal fluice, he ere they fell
Kifs'd, as the gracious figns of fweet remorfe
And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended.
So all was clear'd, and to field they haft
But first, from under fhady arbo'rous roof
Soon as they forth were come to open fight
Of day fpring, and the fun, who fearce uprifen
With wheels yet hov'ring o'er the ocean - brim
Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray.
Discovering in wide landfcape all the east
Of Paradife and Eden's happy plains
Lowly they bow'd adoring and began
Their orifons, each morning duly paid
In various ftyle; for neither various style
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise
Their Maker, in fit ftrains pronounc'd, or fung
Unmeditated, fuch promt eloquence

Flow'd from their lips, in profe or numerous verse,
More tuneable than needed lut or harp
To add more fweetness; and they thus began:


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Thefe are thy glorious works, Parent of good,
Almighty, thine this univerfal frame,

Thus wondrous fair; thy felf how wondrous then!
Unfpeakable, who fitt'ft above these heav'ns
To us invifible, or dimly feen

In these thy loweft works; yet thefe declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine
Speak ye who best can tell, ye fons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with fongs
And choral fymphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heav'n.
On hearth join all ye creatures to extol

Him firft, him last, him midst, and without end
Faireft of ftars, laft in the train of night

If better thou belong not to the dawn

Sure pledge of day, that crown'ft the fmiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praife him in thy sphere
While day arifes, that sweet hour of prime
Thou fun, of this great world bold eye and foul
Acknowlege him thy greater; found his praise
In thy eternal courfe, both when thou climb'ft,
And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou

Moon, that now meet'ft the orient fun, now fly'st,
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies;
And ye five other wand'ring fires that move
In myftic dance not without fong, refound
His praife, who out of darknefs call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix,
And nourish all things; let your ceafelefs change
Vary to our great Maker's ftill new praise.
Ye mifts and exhalations, that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dufky or gray,
Till the fun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rife,
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with fallen showers,
Rifing or falling till advance his praise !
His praife, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
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Milton. Breathe foft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in fign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye, that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious numbers, warbling tune his praife.
Join voices to all living fouls; ye birds,
That finging up to heaven-gate ascend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and ftately tread, or lowly creep;
Witnefs if I be filent, morn or even,

To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my fong, and taught his praise.
Hail univerfal Lord, be bounteous ftill
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd ought of evil, or conceal'd,
Difperfe it, as now light difperfes the dark!

So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts
Firm peace recover'd foon, and wonted calm.
On to their morning rural work they hafte,
Among sweet dews and flow'rs; where any row
Of fruit - trees over-woody reach'd too far
Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to

Fruitless embraces: or they led the vine

To wed her elm; fhe fpous'd about him twines
Her marrigeable, arms, and with her brings
Her dow'r, th' adopted clusters, to adorn
His barren leaves.


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