Ev'n to the seat of God. For since I sought
By pray'r th' offended Deity to' appease,
Kneel'd, and before him humbled all my heart,
Methought I saw him placable and mild,
Bending his ear; persuasion in me grew
That I was heard with favour; peace return'd
Home to my breast, and to my memory
His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe;
Which then not minded in dismay, yet now
Assures me that the bitterness of death
Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee,
Eve rightly call'd, mother of all mankind,
Mother of all things living, since by thee
Man is to live, and all things live for man."
To whom thus Eve with sad demeanour meek.
"Ill worthy I such title should belong
To me transgressor, who, for thee ordain'd
A help, became thy snare; to me reproach
Rather belongs, distrust and all dispraise:
But infinite in pardon was my Judge,
That I, who first brought death on all, am grac'd
The source of life; next favourable thou,
Who highly thus to' entitle me vouchsaf'st,
Far other name deserving. But the field
To labour calls us now with sweat impos'd,
Though after sleepless night; for see the morn,
All unconcern'd with our unrest, begins
Her rosy progress smiling; let us forth,
I never from thy side henceforth to stray,
Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoin'd
Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell,
What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks?
Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content,"
So spake, so wish'd much-humbled Eve, but fate Subscrib'd not; Nature first gave signs, impress'd 182 On bird, beast, air, air suddenly eclips'd
After short blush of morn; nigh in her sight
The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his airy tour,
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove :
Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods,
First hunter then, pursu'd a gentle brace,
Godliest of all the forest, hart and hind;
Direct to th' eastern gate was bent their flight.
Adam observ'd, and with his
Pursuing, not unmov'd, to Eve thus spake.
"O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh, Which Heav'n by these mute signs in nature shews, Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn
Us haply too secure of our discharge
From penalty, because from death releas'd
Some days; how long, and what till then our life, Who knows, or more than this, that we are dust, 199
And thither must return and be no more?
Why else this double object in our sight
Of flight pursu'd in th' air, and o'er the ground,
One way
the self-same hour? why in the east
Darkness ere day's mid-course, and morning light
More orient in yon western cloud, that draws
O'er the blue firmament a radiant white,
And slow descends, with something heav'nly fraught?"
He err'd not, for by this the heavenly bands
Down from a sky of jasper lighted now
In Paradise, and on a hill made halt,
A glorious apparition, had not doubt
And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adam's eye.
Not that more glorious, when the Angels met
Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw
The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright;
Nor that which on the flaming mount appear'd
In Dothan, cover'd with a camp of fire,
Against the Syrian king, who to surprise
One man, assassin-like, had levied war,
War unproclaim'd. The princely Hierarch
In their bright stand there left his Pow'rs to seize
Possession of the garden; he alone,
To find where Adam shelter'd, took his way,
Not unperceiv'd of Adam, who to Eve,
While the great visitant approach'd, thus spake. 225
"Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps Of us will soon determine, or impose
New laws to be observ'd; for I descry,
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill,
One of the heav'nly host, and by his gait
None of the meanest, some great Potentate
Or of the Thrones above, such majesty
Invests him coming; yet not terrible,
That I should fear, nor sociably mild,
As Raphaël, that I should much confide,
But solemn and sublime, whom not to' offend,
With reverence I must meet, and thou retire."
He ended; and the Arch-Angel soon drew nigh,
Not in his shape celestial, but as man
Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms
A military vest of purple flow'd,
Livelier than Melibean, or the grain.
Of Sarrah, worn by kings and heroes old
In time of truce; Iris had dipt the woof;
His starry helm unbuckled shew'd him prime
In manhood where youth ended; by his side
As in a glist'ring zodiac hung the sword,
Satan's dire dread, and in his hand the spear.
Adam bow'd low; he kingly from his state
Inclin❜d not, but his coming thus declar'd.
Adam, Heav'n's high behest no preface needs:
Sufficient that thy pray'rs are heard, and Death, 252 Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress, Defeated of his seizure many days,
Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou may'st repent, And one bad act with many deeds well done May'st cover: well may then thy Lord appeas'd Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim; But longer in this Paradise to dwell
Permits not; to remove thee I am come,
And send thee from the garden forth to till
The ground whence thou was taken, fitter soil."
He added not, for Adam at the news
Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,
That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen
Yet all had heard, with audible lament
Discover'd soon the place of her retire.
"O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death!
Must I thus leave thee, Paradise? thus leave
Thee native soil, these happy walks and shades,
Fit haunt of Gods? where I had hope to spend,
Quiet though sad, the respite of that day
That must be mortal to us both. O flowers,
That never will in other climate grow,
My early visitation, and my last
At ev❜n, which I bred up with tender hand
From the first opening bud, and gave ye names, 277
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