And hunger both, from labour, at the hour
Of sweet repast; they fatiate, and foon fill,
Though pleasant, but thy words with grace divine
Imbu'd, bring to their sweetness no satietie.
To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek.
Nor are thy lips ungraceful, fire of men,
Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee
Abundantly his gifts hath alfo pour'd
Inward and outward both, his image fair:
Speaking or mute all comliness and grace
Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms.
Nor less think we in heav'n of thee on earth
Than of our fellow servant, and inquire
Gladly into the wayes of God with man:
For God we see hath honour'd thee, and fee
On man his equal love: say therefore on;
For I that day was absent, as befell,
Bound on a voyage uncouth and obfcure,
Far on excursion toward the gates: of hell;
Squar'd in full legion (fuch command we had)
To fee that none thence issu'd forth a fpie,
Or enemie, while God was in his work,
Left he incenst at such eruption bold;
Deftruction with creation might have miset.
Not that they dart without his leave attempt,
But us he sends upon his high behefts.
For state, as sovran king, and to enure
Our prompt obedience. Fast we found; fast shut
The dismal gates, and barricado'd strong;
But long ere our approaching heard within
Noise, other than the found of dance or fong,
Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage.
Glad we return'd up to the coafts of light
Ere fabbath eev'ning: fo we had in charge.
But thy relation now; for I attend,
Pleas'd with thy words no less than thou with mine.
So spake the godlike power, and thus our fire. For man to tell how human life began Is hard; for who himfelf beginning knew? Defire with thee still longer to converse Induc'd me. As new wak't from foundest lеер Soft on the flourie herb I found me laid In balmie sweat, which with his beames the fun Soon dri'd, and on the reaking moisture fed. Strait toward heav'n my wondring eyes I turn'd, And gaz'd a while the ample skie, till rais'd By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, As thitherward endeavouring, and upright Stood on my feet; about me round I faw Hill, dale, and shadie woods, and sunnie plains, And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by thefe, Creatures that liv'd, and mov'd, and walk'd, or fiew, Birds on the branches warbling: all things smil'd, With fragrance and with joy my heart orefiow'd. Myself I then perus'd, and limb by limb Survey'd, and fometimes went, and sometimes ran With fupple joints, and lively vigour led: But who I was, or where, or from what cause, Knew not; to speak I tri'd, and forthwith spake, My tongue obey'd, and readily could name What e're I faw. Thou fun, faid I, fair light, And thou enlight'nd earth, fo fresh and gay,
Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plaines
And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell,
Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?
Not of myself; by some great maker then,
In goodness and in power praeeminen:;
Tell me, how may I know him, how adore,
From whom I have that thus I move and live,
And feel that I am happier than I know.
While thus I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither,
From where I first drew air, and first beheld
This happie light, when answer none return'd,
On a green shadie bank profuse of flours
Pensive I sat me down; there gentle sleep
First found me, and with soft oppression seiz'd
My droused sense, untroubl'd, though I thought
I then was passing to my former state.
Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve :.
When suddenly stood at my head a dream,
Whose inward apparition gently mov'd
My fancy to believe I yet had being,
And liv'd: one came, methought, of shape divine,
And faid, thy mansion wants thee, Adam, rife,
First-man, of men innumerable ordain'd
First father, call'd by thee I come thy guide
To the garden of bliss, thy feat prepar'd.
So saying, by the hand he took me rais'd,
And over fields and waters, as in air
Smooth fliding without step, last led me up
A woodie mountain; whose high top was plain,
A circuit wide, enclos'd, with goodliest trees
Planted, with walks, and bowers, that what I faw
arth before scarce pleasant seem'd. Each tree
'n with fairest fruit, that hung to the eye
pting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite
luck and eat; whereat I wak'd, and found
re mine eyes all real, as the dream
lively shadow'd: here had new begun
wandring, had not he who was my guide
hither, from among the trees appeer'd,
ence divine. Rejoycing, but with awe
doration at his feet I fell
miss: he rear'd me, and whom thou foughtst I am, mildly, author of all this thou seest
Love, or round about thee or beneath. is Paradife I give thee, count it thine till and keep, and of the fruit to eat:
every tree that in the garden grows
t freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth: it of the tree whose operation brings
nowledge of good and ill, which I have fet he pledge of thy obedience and thy faith, mid the garden by the tree of life,
emember what I warn thee, shun to taste,
nd shun the bitter consequence: for know,
he day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command
ranfgreft, inevitably thou shalt die;
rom that day mortal, and this happie state
halt lose, expell'd from hence into a world
of woe and forrow. Sternly he pronounc'd
The rigid interdiction, which resounds
Fet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice
Not to incur; but foon his cleer aspect.
Return'd and gracious purpose thus renewid.
Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth
To thee and to thy race I give; as lords
Poffefs it, and all things that therein live,
Or live in fea, or air, beast, fish, and fowle.
In fign whereof each bird and beast behold
After their kinds; I bring them to receave
From thee their names, and pay thee fealtie
With low fubjection; understand the fame
Of fish within their watry residence,
Not hither fummon'd, since they cannot change
Their element to draw the thinner air.
As thus he spake, each bird and beast beheld
Approaching two and two, these cowring low
With blandishment, each bird stoep'd on his wing.
I nam'd them, as they pass'd, and understood
Their nature, with such knowledge God endu'd.
My sudden apprehenfion: but in these,
I found not what methought I wanted still;
And to the heavenly vision thus prefum'd.
O by what name, for thou above all these,
Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher,
Surpassest far my naming, how may I
Adore thee, author of this universe,
And all this good to man, for whose well being
So amply, and with hands fo liberal
Thou hast provided all things: but with me
I fee not who partakes. In folitude
What happiness, who can enjoy alone,
Or all enjoying, what contentment find?
Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright,
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