By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walk'd
Frequent; and of the fixth day yet remain'd;
There wanted yet the master work, the end
Of all yet done; a creature who not prone
And brute as other creatures, but indued
With fanctity of reason, might erect
His stature, and upright with front serene
Govern the rest, self-knowing, and from thence 510
Magnanimous to correspond with Heaven,
But grateful to acknowledge whence his good
Defcends, thither with heart and voice and eyes
Directed in devotion, to adore
And worship God fupreme, who made him chief 515
Of all his works: therefore th' Omnipotent
Eternal Father (for where is not he
Present?) thus to his Son audibly spake.
Let us make now Man in our image, Man
In our fimilitude, and let them rule
Over the fish and fowl of fea and air,
Beast of the field, and over all the earth,
And every creeping thing that creeps the ground.
This faid, he form'd thee, Adam, thee, O Man,
Duft of the ground, and in thy noftrils breath'd
The breath of life; in his own image he
Created thee, in the image of God
Express, and thou becam'st a living foul.
Male he created thee, but thy confort
Female for race; then bless'd mankind, and faid, 530
Be fruitful, multiply, and the earth,
Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold
Over fish of the sea, and fowl of th' air,
And every living thing that moves on th' earth.
Wherever thus created, for no place
Is yet diftinct by name, thence, as thou know'st,
He brought thee into this delicious grove,
This garden, planted with the trees of God,
Delectable both to behold and taste;
And freely all their pleasant fruit for food
Gave thee; all forts are here that all th' earth yields
Variety without end; but of the tree,
Which tasted works knowledge of good and evil,
Thou may'st not; in the day thou eat'st, thou dy'ft;
Death is the penalty impos'd, beware,
And govern well thy appetite, lest Sin
Surprise thee, and her black attendent Death.
Here finish'd he, and all that he had made
View'd, and behold all was entirely good;
So ev'n and morn accomplish'd the fixth day:
Yet not till the Creator from his work
Defifting, though unwearied, up return'd,
Up to the Heav'n of Heav'ns his high abode,
Thence to behold this new created world
Th' addition of his empire, how it show'd
In profpect from his throne, how good, how fair,
Anfwering his great idea. Up he rode
Follow'd with acclamation and the found
Symphonious of ten thousand harps that tun'd
Angelic harmonies: the earth, the air
Refounded, (thou remember'st, for thou heardst)
The Heav'ns and all the conftellations rung,
The planets in their station list ning stood,
While the bright pomp afcended jubilant.
Open, ye everlasting gates, they sung,
Open, ye Heav'ns, your living doors; let in
The great Creator from his work return'd
Magnificent, his fix days work, a world;
Open, and henceforth oft; for God will deign
To visit oft the dwellings of just men
Delighted, and with frequent intercourse
Thither will send his winged messengers
On errands of supernal grace. So fung
The glorious train afcending: He through Heaven,
That open'd wide her blazing portals, led,
To God's eternal house direct the way,
A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold
And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear,
Seen in the galaxy, that milky way,
Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest
Powder'd with stars. And now on earth the seventh
Evening arose in Eden, for the fun
Was set, and twilight from the east came on,
Forerunning night; when at the holy mount
Of Heav'n's high seated top, th' imperial throne 585
Of Godhead, fix'd for ever firm and fure,
The filial Pow'r arriv'd, and fat him down
With his great Father, for he also went
Invisible, yet stay'd, (such privilege
Hath Omnipresence) and the work ordain'd,
Author and end of all things, and from work
Now resting, bless'd and hallow'd the sev'nth day,
As resting on that day from all his work,
But not in filence holy kept; the harp
Had work and rested not, the solemn pipe,
And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop,
All founds on fret by string or golden wire
Temper'd soft tunings, intermix'd with voice
Choral or unison of incense clouds
Fuming from golden censers hid the mount.
Creation and the fix days acts they sung,
Great are thy works, Jehovah, infinite
Thy pow'r; what thought can measure thee, or tongue
Relate thee? greater now in thy return
Than from the giant Angels; thee that day
Thy thunders magnify'd; but to create
Is greater than created to destroy.
Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound
Thy empire? easily the proud attempt
Of Spirits apostate and their counsels vain
Thou hast repell'd, while impioufly they thought
Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw
The number of thy worshipers. Who seeks
To leffen thee, against his purpose serves
To manifest the more thy might: his evil
Thou usest, and from thence creat'st more good.
Witness this new-made world, another Heaven
From Heaven gate not far, founded in view
On the clear hyaline, the glassy sea;
Of amplitude almost immense, with stars
Numerous, and every star perhaps a world
Of destin'd habitation; but thou know'st
Their seasons: among these the feat of Men,
Earth with her nether ocean circumfus'd,
Their pleafant dwelling-place. Thrice happy Men,
And fons of Men, whom God hath thus advanc'd,
Created in his image, there to dwell
And worship him, and in reward to rule
Over his works, on earth, in sea, or air,
And multiply a race of worshipers
Holy and just: thrice happy if they know
Their happiness, and perfevere upright.
So fung they, and the empyréan rung
With halleluiahs: Thus was sabbath kept.
And thy request think now fulfill'd, that ask'd
How first this world and face of things began,
And what before thy memory was done
From the beginning, that pofterity
Inform'd by thee might know; if else thou seek'st
Ought, not furpassing human meafure, say.
THE END OF THE SEVENTH BOOK.
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