The Some days: how long, and what till then our life. Heavenly Who knows, or more than this, that we are dust, bands And thither must return, and be no more?
Why else this double object in our sight,
Of flight pursued in the air and o'er the ground One way the self-same hour? Why in the east Darkness ere day's mid-course, and morning- light
More orient in yon western cloud, that draws O'er the blue firmament a radiant white, And slow descends, with something Heavenly fraught?'
He erred not; for, by this, the Heavenly bands
Down from a sky of jasper lighted now In Paradise, and on a hill made halt- A glorious apparition, had not doubt
And carnal fear that day dimmed Adam's eye. Not that more glorious, when the Angels met Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw
The field pavilioned with his guardians bright; Nor that which on the flaming mount appeared In Dothan, covered with a camp of fire, Against the Syrian king, who, to surprise One man, assassin-like, had levied war, War unproclaimed. The princely Hierarch 220 In their bright stand there left his Powers to seize Possession of the Garden; he alone,
To find where Adam sheltered, took his way, Not unperceived of Adam; who to Eve, While the great visitant approached, thus spake :- 'Eve, now expect great tidings, which, per- haps,
Of us will soon determine, or impose
New laws to be observed; for I descry,
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill, sentence One of the Heavenly host, and, by his gait, 230 None of the meanest—some great Potentate Or of the Thrones above, such majesty Invests him coming; yet not terrible, That I should fear, nor sociably mild, As Raphael, that I should much confide, But solemn and sublime; whom, not to offend, With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.' He ended; and the Archangel soon drew nigh,
Not in his shape celestial, but as man Over his lucid arms
A military vest of purple flowed, Livelier than Meliboean, or the grain Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old In time of truce; Iris had dipt the woof. His starry helm unbuckled showed him prime In manhood where youth ended; by his side, As in a glistering zodiac, hung the sword, Satan's dire dread, and in his hand the spear. Adam bowed low; he, kingly, from his state Inclined not, but his coming thus declared :- 250
'Adam, Heaven's high behest no preface needs. Sufficient that thy prayers are heard, and Death, Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress, Defeated of his seizure many days,
Given thee of grace, wherein thou may'st repent, And one bad act with many deeds well done May'st cover. Well may then thy Lord,
Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim; But longer in this Paradise to dwell
Eve's Permits not. To remove thee I am come, 260 sorrow at And send thee from the Garden forth, to till banishThe ground whence thou wast taken, fitter soil.' He added not; for Adam, at the news
Heart-strook, with chilling gripe of sorrow stood, That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen Yet all had heard, with audible lament Discovered soon the place of her retire :-
O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death! Must I thus leave thee, Paradise? thus leave Thee, native soil? these happy walks and shades,
Fit haunt of Gods, where I had hope to spend, Quiet, though sad, the respite of that day That must be mortal to us both? O flowers, That never will in other climate grow, My early visitation, and my last
At even, which I bred up with tender hand From the first opening bud, and gave ye names, Who now shall rear ye to the Sun, or rank Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount? Thee, lastly, nuptial bower, by me adorned 280 With what to sight or smell was sweet, from thee How shall I part, and whither wander down Into a lower world, to this obscure
And wild? How shall we breathe in other air Less pure, accustomed to immortal fruits?'
Whom thus the Angel interrupted mild :--- 'Lament not, Eve, but patiently resign What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart, Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine. Thy going is not lonely; with thee goes Thy husband; him to follow thou art bound; Where he abides, think there thy native soil.'
Adam, by this from the cold sudden damp Recovering, and his scattered spirits returned, To Michael thus his humble words addressed :Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or named
Of them the highest-for such of shape may seem Prince above princes-gently hast thou told Thy message, which might else in telling wound, And in performing end us. What besides 300
Of sorrow, and dejection, and despair, Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring- Departure from this happy place, our sweet Recess, and only consolation left
Familiar to our eyes; all places else Inhospitable appear, and desolate,
Nor knowing us, nor known. And, if by prayer Incessant I could hope to change the will Of him who all things can, I would not cease To weary him with my assiduous cries; But prayer against his absolute decree
No more avails than breath against the wind, Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth: Therefore to his great bidding I submit. This most afflicts me-that, departing hence, As from his face I shall be hid, deprived His blessed countenance. Here I could frequent, With worship, place by place where he voutsafed Presence Divine, and to my sons relate,
"On this mount He appeared; under this tree 320 Stood visible; among these pines his voice I heard; here with him at this fountain talked." So many grateful altars I would rear
grassy turf, and pile up every stone Of lustre from the brook, in memory
All the Or monument to ages, and thereon earth Offer sweet-smelling gums, and fruits, and flowers.
In yonder nether world where shall I seek His bright appearances, or footstep trace? For, though I fled him angry, yet, recalled 330 To life prolonged and promised race, I now Gladly behold though but his utmost skirts Of glory, and far off his steps adore.'
To whom thus Michael, with regard benign:'Adam, thou know'st Heaven his, and all the
Not this rock only; his omnipresence fills Land, sea, and air, and every kind that lives, Fomented by his virtual power and warmed. All the Earth he gave thee to possess and rule, No despicable gift; surmise not, then, His presence to these narrow bounds confined Of Paradise or Eden. This had been Perhaps thy capital seat, from whence had spread All generations, and had hither come, From all the ends of the Earth, to celebrate And reverence thee their great progenitor. But this pre-eminence thou hast lost, brought down
To dwell on even ground now with thy sons: Yet doubt not but in valley and in plain God is, as here, and will be found alike Present, and of his presence many a sign Still following thee, still compassing thee round With goodness and paternal love, his face Express, and of his steps the track divine. Which that thou may'st believe, and be confirmed Ere thou from hence depart, know I am sent
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