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:
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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