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And now great deeds might have been done
Had not great God sublime,

In Heav'n his golden scales forth hung,
"Tixt th' Astrea and Scorpion sign;
And these, yet seen, when balanc'd right,
In each a weight he threw,

The sequel 'f parting and of fight;
The latter quick upflew,

Which Gabriel spying, thus t' the fiend:
"Satan, I know thy might,

And thou know'st mine; what folly then
To boast of arms in fight;
Since thine no more than Heaven's desire
Nor mine, though double now
To trample thee as filthy mire,
And end thy frowning brow:
For proof look up and read thy fate
In yon celestial sign,

Where thou art weigh'd and shown how weak
Thy strength compar'd with mine."
The gristly fiend look'd up and knew
His mounted scale aloft :

Nor more-but turn'd and murm'ring flew,
And with him night went off.
Now rising morn with rosy hand
Unbarr'd the gates of light,
And with her lucid mantle bland
Far chas'd the shades of night.
When Adam, at th' accustom'd hour,
Wak'd by shrill matin song

Of birds now perch'd high on his bow'r,
Rose up to greet the morn.

But great, indeed, his wonder was
To find Eve yet unwak'd,
With tresses loose and discompos'd,
As thro' unquiet rest:

He on his side half leaning rais'd.
With looks of cordial love,
Hung over her and silent gaz'd:
A fearful sigh he hove:
And beauty saw, which, though asleep,.
So wonted to her face,
Sleeping or wake, alike both sweet,
Shot forth peculiar grace.

With voice mild as the morning breeze
That ruffs the silver lake,

Her hand soft touching, whisper'd these: "Eve, my fairest, wake,

Heaven's last best gift, my latest found,
My ever new delight,

Awake; the morning shines around,
Return'd with pleasing light:

Me my plants call, thy flow'rs thee;
Come let us to our toil,

Thou to the vine, I to the tree

Where drops the citron oil:

Now sing the warblers, perch'd on high."
Such soft whispering quite

Wak'd her; but with startled eye
On Adam, her delight,

Whom embracing, thus she spake :
"O sole, my partner kind,

Glad I thus morn from sleep awake,
And see thy face benign:

For 1 this night, such night never past,
Have dreamed, O partner kind,
Not as I'm wont, works of day past,
Or morrow's next design;
But of offence and trouble deep:
Close at mine ear, methought,
A gentle voice both soft and sweet,
That call'd me forth to walk:

It said, why sleep'st thou, beauteous Eve?
Now is the pleasant time,

The silent, save when silence yields
To Philomel fine.

Now reigns full orb'd the splendid moon
O'er nature's dark repose;
More pleasing than the heat of noon,
Less sick'ning to the rose.
As at thy bidding straight I rose,
But, lo! I found thee not;
To find thee, then, thro' devious ways
Directed soon my walk;

And on alone I pass'd, methought,
Through ways exceeding fair,
That to the tree of knowledge brought
Me ere I was aware;

Much fairer than by day it seem'd

Thro' moon-light beams of even: Beside it stood one shap'd and wing'd

Like one of those from Heav'n; And on that tree he also gaz'd:

And, "O, fair plant," said he,

"With fruit surcharg'd, much to be prais'd, Deign'st none thy load to ease,

Nor taste thy fruit, nor God nor man;
Is knowledge so despis'd?
Why dost thy fruit in clusters hang
To tempt my longing eyes?
Let him who will, forbid to taste;
None shall thy offered good
Longer from me withhold; why else
Set here with heav'nly food?"
So saying bold, nor paus'd, but straight
With vent'rous fury fill'd,

Reach'd forth his arm, and pluck'd and ate;
But me damp horror chill'd:

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But he o'erjoy'd: “O, fruit divine,
Thus cropt it seems more sweet;
Forbidden here, it seems, I find,
Fit only Gods to eat,

Yet able to make Gods of men;
And why not Gods? who knows,
Since good the more diffused then
The more abundant grows.
Here happy creature, angel fair,
Partake thou also this,

And like us spirits, soar in air

To better worlds of bliss,
Tho' happy now thou art, indeed,
Happier thou may'st be;

But worthier not, though from earth freed,
And bliss of Gods shalt see."

So saying, he drew nigh to me,

And to my mouth he held

Part of the fruit of that same tree,
Whose savor sweet so smell'd,

That I, methought, could not but taste,
When forthwith to the sky

With him I flew, with eagle haste,
Above the earth on high,

Much wond'ring at my flight and change
To this exalted pitch:

My guide now gone, and I again

Sunk down and fell asleep: But O, how glad to find, awake,

It but a dream I had."

Thus Eve her night he heard relate,
And thus he answer'd sad:

"Sole partner 'nd chief of my delight,
And best image of me;

The trouble of thy thoughts this night
Affects me equally;

Nor can I like this uncouth dream,
Of evil sprung, I'm sure,

Yet, whence? in thee can horbor none,
Thou wast created pure:

Yet be not sad, but this truth know:

Evil into the mind

Of God or man may come and go,
And leave no blame behind,

Which gives me hope that, what in sleep
'Thou did'st abhor to view,

(For well thou know'st our charge to keep,) Awake, thou wilt not do.

Then be not sad, nor cloud that face,

So often wont to be

Clad with a more endearing grace

Than aught on earth to me;

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