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Come, I fay, thou powerful God,
And thy Leaden charming Rod,

Dipt in the Lethean Lake,
O'er his wakeful Temples shake,
Left he thou'd fleep and never wake.

Nature, alass! why art thou so
Obliged to thy greatest Foe?
Sleep that is thy best Repast
Yet of Death it bears a tast,
And both are the fame thing at last.

Denham

XXX.

To Sir Richard Fanshaw, upon his Tranflation of

Paftor Fido.

Such is our Pride, our Folly, or our Fate,
That few but such as cannot write, tranflate.
But what in them is want of Art, or Voice,
In thee is either Modesty or Choice.
While this great Piece, restor'd by thee, doth stand
Free from the Blemish of an Artless Hand;
Secure of Fame, thou justly dost esteem
Less Honour to Create, than to Redeem.
Nor ought a Genius less than his that writ,
Attempt Tranflation; for transplanted Wit,
All the Defects of Air and Soil doth share,
And colder Brains like colder Climates are:
In vain they toil, fince nothing can beget
A vital Spirit, but a vital Heat.

i

That fervile Path thou nobly dost decline
Of tracing Word by Word, and Line by Line.

Thofe

Those are the labour'd Births of flavish Brains,
Not the Effects of Poetry, but Pains;
Cheap vulgar Arts, whose Narrowness affords
No Flight for Thoughts, but poorly sticks at Words.
A new and nobler way thou dost purfue
To make Tranflations and Tranflators too.
They but preferve the Ashes, thou the Flame,
True to his Senfe, but truer to his Fame.
Foording his Current where thou find'st it low
Let'st in thine own to make it rise and flow;
Wifely reftoring whatsoever Grace
It loft by change of Times, or Tongues, or Place.
Nor fetter'd to his Numbers, and his Times,
Betray'st his Musick to unhappy Rhimes,
Nor are the Nerves of his compacted Strength
Stretch'd and dissolv'd into unfinnewed Length:
Yet after all, left we should think it thine,
Thy Spirit to his Circle dost confine.

New Names, new Dressings, and the modern Caft,
Some Scenes from Persons alter'd, had out-fac'd
The World, it were thy Work; for we have known
Some thank'd and prais'd for what was less their own.
That Master's Hand which to the Life can trace
The Airs, the Lines, and Features of the Face,
May with a free and bolder Stroke express
A vary'd Posture, or a flatt'ring Dress;
He cou'd have made those like, who made the rest,
But that he knew his own Design was beft.

Denham.

E

XXXI.

Eve of herself to Adam.

To whom thus Eve reply'd. O thou for whom,
And from whom I was form'd, Flesh of thy Flesh,

And without whom am to no end; my Guide
And Head, what thou hast said is juft and right,
For we to God indeed all Praises owe,
And daily Thanks, I chiefly who enjoy
So far the happier Lot, enjoying thee
Pre-eminent by fo much odds, while thou
Like Confort to thy felf can'ft no where find.
That Day I oft remember, when from Sleep
I first awak'd, and found my self repos'd
Under a Shade of Flowers, much wond'ring where
And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.
Not diftant far from thence a murmuring Sound
Of Waters iffu'd from a Cave, and spread
Into a liquid Plain, then stood unmov'd,
Pure as th' Expanse of Heav'n; I thither went
With unexperienc'd Thought, and laid me down
On the Green Bank, to look into the clear
Smooth Lake, that to me feem'd another Sky.
As I bent down to look, just opposite,
A Shape within the watry Gleam appear'd
Bending to look on me, I started back,
It started back, but pleas'd I foon return'd,
Pleas'd it return'd as foon with answering Looks
Of Sympathy and Love; there I had fixt
Mine Eyes till now, and pin'd with vain Defire,
Had not a Voice thus warn'd me, What thou feeft,
What there thou seest, fair Creature, is thy self,
With thee it came and goes; but follow me,

And

And I will bring thee where no Shadow stays
Thy coming and thy foft Embraces, he
Whose Image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy
Infeparably thine, to him shalt bear
Multitudes like thy felf, and thence be call'd
Mother of Humane Race: What could I do,
But follow straight, invisibly thus led?
Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall,
Under a Platane, yet methought less fair,
Less winning soft, less amiably mild
Than that smooth watry Image; back I turn'd
Thou following cry'dft aloud, Return fair Eve,
Whom fly'st thou? Whom thou fly'st of him thou
His Flesh, his Bone; to give thee Being Ilent (art,
Out of my Side to thee, nearest my Heart
Substantial Life, to have thee by my Side
Henceforth an individual Solace Dear;
Part of my Soul I seek thee, and thee claim
My other Self: With that thy gentle Hand
Seiz'd mine, I yielded, and from that time sce
How Beauty is excell'd by Manly Grace
And Wisdom, which alone is truly fair.

So spake our general Mother, and with Eyes

Of conjugal Attraction unreprov'd
And meek furrender, half embracing lean'd
On our first Father, half her swelling Breaft
Naked met his under the flowing Gold
Of her loose Tresses hid: He in Delight
Both of her Beauty and fubmifsive Charms
Smil'd with fuperior Love, as Jupiter
On Juno smiles, when he impregns the Clouds
That shed May-Flowers, and press'd her Matron Lip
With Kiffes pure. Afide the Devil turn'd
For Envy, yet with jealous Leer malign

Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plain'd.

Milton, 1. 4 XXXII.

Adam's Account of the Creation of Eve, and their Marriage.

GOD ended, or I heard no more, for now
My Earthly by his Heav'nly overpower'd,
Which it had long stood under, strain'd to th'
In that C lestial Colloquy fublime,
(height
As with an Object that excels the Senfe,
Dazl'd and spent, funk down, and fought repair
Of Sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'd
Ey Nature as in Aid, and clos'd mine Eyes.
Mine Eyes he clos'd, but open left the Cell
Of Fancy, my internal Sight, by which
Abstract as in a Trance methought I faw,
Tho fleeping, where I lay, and faw the Shape
Still Glorious, before whom awake I stood,
Who stooping open'd my Left Side, and took
From thence a Rib, with Cordial Spirits warm,
And Life-Blood streaming fresh, wide was the
(Wound,

But suddenly with Flesh fill'd up and heal'd:
The Rib he form'd and fashion'd with his Hands;
Under his forming Hands a Creature grew,
Man-like, but different Sex, so lovely Fair,
That what feem'd fair in all the World feem'd now
Mean, or in her fumm'd up, in her contain'd,
And in her Looks, which from that time infus'd
Sweetness into my Heart, unfelt before,
And into all things from her Air inspir'd
The Spirit of Love and amorous Delight.
She disappear'd, and left me dark, I wak'd
To find her, or for ever to deplore
Her lofs, and other Pleasures all abjure :

When

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