Direct to th' eastern gate was bent their flight.
Adam obferv'd, and with his eye the chase
Pursuing, not unmov'd to Eve thus spake.
O Eve, fome further change awaits us nigh, Which Heav'n by these mute signs in nature shows, Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn
Us haply too fecure 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,
And thither must return and be no more?
Why elfe this double object in our fight,
Of flight pursu'd in th' air, and o'er the ground,
One way the self-fame 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 flow defcends, with fomething heav'nly fraugh
He err'd not, for by this the heav'nly 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 faw
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, affaffin like, had levied war,
War unproclam'd. The princely Hierarch
In their bright stand there left his Pow'rs to seise
Poffeffion 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 vifitant approach'd, thus fpake. 225
Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps
Of us will foon determin, or impose
New laws to be obferv'd; for I defcry,
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill,
One of the heav'nly host, and by his gate
None of the meaneft; fome great Potentate,
Or of the Thrones above, such majesty
Invests him coming; yet not terrible,
That I should fear, nor fociably mild,
As Raphaël, that I should much confide,
But folemn and sublime, whom not to offend,
With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.
He ended; and th' Arch-Angel foon drew nigh,
Not in his shape celeftial, but as man
Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms
A military vest of purple flow'd,
Livelier than Meliboan, or the grain
Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old
In time of truce; Iris had dipt the woof;
His ftarry helm,unbuckled, fhow'd him prime
A a a
In manhood, where youth ended; by his fide,
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 beheft no preface needs: Sufficient that thy pray'rs are heard, and Death, Then due by fentence when thou didst tranfgrefs, Defeated of his feisure many days,
Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou mayft repent, 2
And one bad act with many deeds well done
Mayft cover: well may then thy Lord,appeas'd,
Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious clame;
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 waft taken, fitter foil.
He added not, for Adam at the news
Heart-ftruck with chilling gripe of forrow flood,
That all his fenfes bound; Eve, who unseen,
Yet all had heard, with audible lament
Discover'd foon the place of her retire.
O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death!
Muft I thus leave thee, Paradife? thus leave
Thee, native foil, these happy walks and shades,
Fit haunt of Gods? where I had hope to spend,
Quiet though fad, the refpit 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;
Who now shall rear ye to the fun, or rank
Your tribes, and water from th'ambrofial fount?
Thee laftly, nuptial bow'r, by me adorn'd 280
With what to fight or fmell was sweet, from thee
How shall I part, and whither wander down
Into a lower world, to this obscure
And wild? how fhall we breathe in other air
Lefs pure, accuftom'd to immortal fruits?
Whom thus the Angel interrupted mild.
Lament not, Eve, but patiently refign
What juftly thou haft loft; nor fet thy heart,
Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine;
Thy going is not lonely; with thee goes.
Thy husband; him to follow thou art bound;
Where he abides, think there thy native foil.
Adam by this from the cold fudden damp
Recovering, and his scatter'd spi rits return'd,
To Michael thus his humble words addrefs'd.
Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or nam'd Of them the high eft, for such of shape may seem Prince above princes, gently haft thou told Thy message, which might else in telling wound, And in performing end us; what besides Of forrow and dejection and despair
Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring,
Departure from this happy place, our sweet
Recefs, and only confolation left
Familiar to our eyes; all places elfe
Inhofpitable appear and desolate,
Nor knowing us nor known: and if by prayer
Incessant I could hope to change the will
Of him who all things can, I would not cease
To weary him with my affiduous cries:
But pray'r against his abfolute decree
No more avails than breath against the wind,
Blown ftifling back on him that breathes it forth:
Therefore to his great bidding I submit.
This moft afflicts me, that departing hence,
As from his face I shall be hid, depriv'd
His bleffed count'nance; here I could frequent
With worship place by place where he vouchsaf'd
Presence divine; and to my fons relate,
On this mount he appear'd, under this tree
Stood visible, among these pines his voice
I heard, here with him at this fountain talk'd:
many grateful altars I would rear
Of graffy turf, and pile up every ftone
Of luftre from the brook, in memory,
Or monument to ages, and thereon
Offer sweet smelling gums and fruits and flowers:
In yonder nether world where shall I seek
His bright appearances, or foot-step trace?
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