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 relater 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
Not words alone pleased her. O! when 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.
To ask or search, I blame thee not; for Heaven Is as the book of God before thee set,
Wherein to read his wonderous 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 fabrick 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 centrick and eccentrick scribbled o'er, Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb:
Already by thy reasoning this I
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 still, when she alone receives The benefit: Consider first, that great 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;
Whose virtue on itself works no effect,
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 áttribute, Though numberless, to his Omnipotence, That to corporeal substances could add Speed almost spiritual: Me thou think'st not slow, Who since the morning-hour set out from Heaven Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived In Eden: distance inexpressible
By numbers that have name.
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, 120
If it presume, might err in things too high, And no advantage gain. What if the sun
Be center to the world; and other stars,
By his attractive virtue and their own 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 stedfast 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 air, 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 produce
Fruits in her softened soil for some to eat Allotted there; and other suns perhaps, With their attendant moons, thou wilt descry, Communicating male and female light; Which two 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 cóntribute
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 smooth air along;
Sollicit 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
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