With earth and ocean meets, the setting fun Slowly defcended; and with right aspect Against the eastern gate of Paradife Level'd his evening rays: it was a rock Of alabaster, pil'd up to the clouds, Confpicuous far; winding with one afcent Acceffible from earth, one entrance high: The reft was craggy cliff, that over-hung Still as it rofe, impossible to climb. Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel fat, Chief of th' Angelic guards, awaiting night: About him exercis'd heroic games
Th' unarmed youth of heav'n; but nigh at hand Coeleftial armory, fhields, helms, and fpears, Hung high, with diamond flaming, and with gold. Thither came Uriel, gliding through the ev'n On a fan-beam, fwift as a shooting star In autumn thwarts the night, when vapors fir'd Imprefs the air, and fhew the mariner
From what point of his Compass to beware Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste.
Gabriel! to thee thy course by lot hath giv'n Charge, and strict watch, that to this happy place No evil thing approach, or enter in :
This day, at height of noon, came to my sphere A fpirit; zealous, as he feem'd, to know 565 More of th' Almighty's works; and chiefly man, God's latest image: I defcrib'd his way, Bent all on speed, and mark'd his aery gait: But, in the mount that lies from Eden north,
Where he first lighted, foon difcern'd his looks Alien from heav'n, with paffions foul obfcur'd: Mine eye purfu'd him still, but under shade Loft fight of him: one of the banish'd crew, I fear, hath ventur'd from the Deep, to raise New troubles; him thy care must be to find.
To whom the winged warrior thus return'd: Uriel! no wonder if thy perfect fight, Amid the fun's bright circle, where thou fit', See far, and wide: in at this gate none pass The vigilance here plac'd, but fuch as come Well-known from heav'n; and fince meridian hour No creature thence. If fpirit of other fort, So minded, have o'er-leap'd these earthy bounds On purpose, hard thou know'ft it to exclude Spiritual fubftance with corporeal bar. But, if within the circuit of these walks, In whatsoever fhape, he lurk, of whom Thou tell'ft, by morrow dawning I shall know.
So promis'd he; and Uriel to his charge 589 Return'd, on that bright beam, whose point now rais'd Bore him flope downward to the fun, now fall'n Beneath th' Azores: whither the prime orb, Incredible how swift, had thither rowl'd
Diurnal; or this less volubil earth,
By shorter flight to th' eaft, had left him there, 595 Arraying with reflected purple, and gold, The clouds that on his western throne attend.
Now came ftill evening on, and twilight grey Had in her sober livery all things clad :
Silence accompany'd; for beast, and bird, They to their graffy couch, these to their nefts, Were flunk; all but the wakeful nightingale; She all night long her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleas'd: now glow'd the firmament With living saphirs; Hesperus, that led The starry hoft, rode brightest; till the moon, Rifing in clouded majesty at length, Apparent Queen, unveil'd her peerless light, And o'er the dark her filver mantle threw ; When Adam thus to Eve: fair confort! th' hour Of night, and all things now retir'd to rest, Mind us of like repofe; fince God hath fet Labor and reft, as day and night, to men Succeffive; and the timely dew of fleep, Now falling with soft slumbrous weight, inclines Our eye-lids. Other creatures all day-long Rove idle, un-employ'd, and less need rest: Man hath his daily work of body, or mind, Appointed, which declares his dignity, And the regard of heav'n on all his ways: While other animals unactive range, And of their doings God takes no account. To-morrow, e'er fresh morning streak the east With first approach of light, we must be ris'n, And at our pleasant labor, to reform
Yon flow'ry arbors; yonder allies green, Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown; That mock our scant manuring, and require More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth.
Thofe bloffoms also, and those dropping gums, 630 That lie beftrown, unfightly, and unsmooth, Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease: Mean-while, as nature wills, night bids us reft. To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd. My author, and difpofer! what thou bidst Un-argu'd I obey; fo God ordains:
God is thy law, thou mine: to know no more Is woman's happiest knowledge, and her praise. With thee converfing I forget all time;
All seasons, and their change, all please alike: 640 Sweet is the breath of morn, her rifing fweet, With charm of earliest birds: pleasant the fun, When first on this delightful land he spreads` His orient beams, en herb, tree, fruit, and flow'r, Glift'ring with dew: fragrant the fertile earth 645 After foft fhow'rs: and fweet the coming on Of grateful ev'ning mild: then, filent night, With this her folemn bird, and this fair moon, And these the gems of heav'n, her starry train. But neither breath of morn, when the afcends 650 With charm of earliest birds: nor rifing fun On this delightful land: nor herb, fruit, flower, Glift'ring with dew: nor fragrance after show'rs: Nor grateful evening mild: nor filent night, With this her folemn bird: nor walk by moon: 655 Or glittering ftar-light, without thee is sweet. But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom This glorious fight, when fleep hath fhut all eyes? To whom our general ancestor reply'd.
Daughter of God and man, accomplish'd Eve! 660 These have their courfe to finish, round the earth, By morrow ev'ning; and from land to land In order, though to nations yet unborn, Miniftring light prepar'd, they fet, and rife: Left total darkness should by night regain Her old poffeffion, and extinguish life
In nature, and all things; which these foft fires Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat, Of various influence, foment, and warm, Temper, or nourish; or in part shed down Their ftellar virtue, on all kinds that grow On earth; made hereby apter to receive Perfection from the fun's more potent ray.
These then, though un-beheld in deep of night, 674 Shine not in vain: nor think, though men were none, That heav'n would want spectators, God want praise: Millions of fpiritual creatures walk the earth Un-feen, both when we wake, and when we sleep: All these, with ceaseless praise, his works behold Both day, and night: how often, from the steep 680 Of echoing hill, or thicket, have we heard Cœleftial voices, to the midnight air (Sole, or refponfive each to other's note) Singing their great Creator? oft in bands
While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk, 685 With heav'nly touch of inftrumental founds, In full harmonic number join'd, their fongs Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heaven. Thus talking, hand in hand, alone they pass'd
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