If patiently thy bidding they obey,
Dismiss them not disconsolate; reveal
To Adam what shall come in future days,
As I shall thee enlighten; intermix
My covenant in the woman's seed renew'd;
So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace :
And on the east side of the garden place,
Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs,
Cherubic watch; and of the sword the flame
Wide-waving all approach far off to fright,
And guard all passage to the tree of life :
Lest paradise a receptacle prove
To spirits foul, and all my trees their
With whose stol'n fruit man once more to delude. »
He ceas'd; and the arch-angelic power prepar'd
For swift descent; with him the cohort bright
Of watchful cherubim : four faces each
Had, like a double Janus; all their shape
Spangled with eyes more numerous than those
Of Argus, and more wakeful than to drowse,
Charm'd with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed
Of Hermes, or his opiate rod.
To re-salute the world with sacred light,
Leucothea wak'd and with fresh dews embalm'd
The earth; when Adam and first matron Eve
Had ended now their orisons, and found
Strength added from above; new hope to spring
Out of despair; joy, but with fear yet link'd:
Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd:
« Eve, easily may faith admit, that all
The good which we enjoy from heaven descends;
But, that from us aught should ascend to heaven
So prevalent as to concern the mind
Of God high-blest, or to incline his will,
Hard to believe may seem; yet this will prayer
Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne
Even to the seat of God. For since I sought
By prayer the offended Deity to appease,
Kneel'd, and before him humbled all my heart;
Methought I saw him placable and mild,
Bending his ear; persuasion in me grew,
That I was heard with favour; peace return'd
Home to my breast, and to my memory
His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe;
Which, then not minded in dismay, yet now
Assures me that the bitterness of death
Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee,
Eve rightly call'd, mother of all mankind,
Mother of all things living, since by thee
Man is to live; and all things live for man. »
To whom thus Eve, with sad demeanour meek:
Ill-worthy I such title should belong
To me transgressor; who, for thee ordain'd
A help, became thy snare; to me reproach
Rather belongs, distrust, and all dispraise
But infinite in pardon was my Judge,
That I, who first brought death on all, am grac'd
The source of life; next favourable thou,
Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf'st,
Far other name deserving. But the field
To labour calls us, now with sweat impos'd,
Though after sleepless night; for see! the morn,
All unconcern'd with our unrest, begins
Her rosy progress smiling; let us forth;
I never from thy side henceforth to stray,
Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoin'd Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell, What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks? Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content. >>
So spake, so wish'd much-humbled Eve; but fate Subscrib'd not: nature first gave signs, impress'd On bird, beast, air; air suddenly eclips'd, After short blush of morn; nigh in her sight The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour, Two birds of gayest plume before him drove; Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace, Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind; Direct to the eastern gate was bent their flight. Adam observ'd, and with his eye the chase Pursuing, not unmov'd, to Eve thus spake :
« O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh Which Heaven, by these mute signs in nature, shows Forerunners of his purpose; or to warn
Us, haply too secure, of our discharge
From penalty, because from death releas'd
Some days how long, and what till then our life,
Who knows? or more than this, that we are dust,
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 err'd 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 dimm'd Adam's eye:
Not that more glorious, when then angels met
Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw
The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright;
Nor that, which on the flaming mount appear'd
In Dotham, cover'd with a camp of fire,
Against the Syrian king, who to surprise
One man, assassin-like, had levied war,
War unproclaim'd. The princely hierarch
In their bright stand there left his powers, to seize
Possession of the garden; he alone,
To find where Adam shelter'd, took his way,
Not unperceiv'd of Adam; who to Eve,
While the great visitant approach'd, thus spake :
« Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps Of us will soon determine, or impose
New laws to be observ'd; for I descry,
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the bill,
One of the heavenly host; and by his gait,
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 arch-angel soon drew nigh,
Not in his shape celestial, but as man
Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms
A military vest of purple flow'd,
Livelier than Melibœan, or the grain
Of Sara, worn by kings and heroes old
In time of truce; Iris had dipt the woof;
His starry helm, unbuckled, show'd 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 bow'd low; he, kingly from his state
Inclin'd not, but his coming thus declar'd: -
« 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, appeas'd,
Redeem thee quite from death's rapacious claim; But longer in this paradise to dwell
Permits not to remove thee I am come,
And send thee from the garden forth to till
The ground whence thou wast taken; fitter soil. »
He added not; for Adam at the news
Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,
That all his senses bound; Eve who unseen
Yet all had heard, with audible lament
Discover'd soon the place of her retire.
« O unexpected stroke, worse than of death!
Must I thus leave thee, paradise? thus leave
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