The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
When Adam thus to Eve: "Fair consort! th' hour
Of night, and all things now retir'd to rest,
Mind us of like repose; since God hath set
Labour and rest, as day and night, to men
Successive; and the timely dew of sleep,
Now falling with soft slumbrous weight, inclines
Our eye-lids: other creatures all day long
Rove idle, unemploy'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 inactive range,
And of their doings God takes no account.
To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east
With first approach of light, we must be ris'n,
And at our pleasant labour, to reform
Yon flowry arbours, yonder alleys green,
Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown,
That mock our scant manuring, and require
More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth:
Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums,
That lie bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth,
Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease;
Meanwhile, as nature wills, night bids us rest.”
To whom thus Eve, with perfet beauty adorn'd:
"My author and disposer! what thou bidd'st,
Unargued I obey: so God ordains.
God is thy law, thou mine: to know no more
Is woman's happiest knowledge, and her praise.
With thee conversing, I forget all time;
All seasons, and their change, all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild; then silent night,
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these the gems of Heav'n, her starry train :
But neither breath of morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistring with dew; nor fragrance after showers;
Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night,
With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon,
Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet.
But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom
This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?”
To whom our general ancestor repli'd:
Daughter of God and Man, accomplisht Eve,
These have their course to finish, round the earth,
By morrow ev'ning; and from land to land
In order, though to nations yet unborn,
Ministring light prepar'd, they set and rise;
Lest total darkness should by night regain
Her old possession, and extinguish life
In nature and all things;-which these soft fires
Not only enlighten, but, with kindly heat
Of various influence, foment and warm,
Temper or nourish; or in part shed down
Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow
On earth, made hereby apter to receive
Perfection from the sun's more potent ray.
These then, though unbeheld in deep of night,
Shine not in vain. Nor think, though men were none,
That heav'n would want spectators, God want praise:
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
Unseen, 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
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard
Celestial voices, to the midnight air
(Sole, or responsive each to other's note)
Singing their great Creator! Oft in bands
While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk,
With heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds
In full harmonic number join'd, their songs
Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven.”
Thus talking, hand in hand alone they pass'd
On to their blissful bower: it was a place
Chos'n by the sovran Planter, when he fram'd
All things to Man's delightful use: the roof,
Of thickest covert, was inwoven shade,
Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew
Of firm and fragrant leaf: on either side
Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub,
Fenc'd up the verdant wall: each beauteous flower,
Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine,
Rear'd high their flourisht heads between, and wrought
Mosaic: underfoot the violet,
Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay
Broider'd the ground, more coloured than with stone
Of costliest emblem: other creature here,
Bird, beast, insect, or worm, durst enter none,
Such was their awe of Man. In shadier bower,
More sacred and sequester'd, though but feign'd,
Pan nor Silvanus never slept; nor Nymph
Nor Faunus haunted. Here, in close recess,
With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smelling herbs,
Espoused Eve deckt first her nuptial bed;
And heav'nly quires the hymenean sung,
What day the genial angel to our sire
Brought her, in naked beauty more adorn'd,,
More lovely, than Pandora, whom the gods
Endow'd with all their gifts;-and, O too like
In sad event,-when to the unwiser son
Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnar'd
Mankind with her fair looks, to be aveng'd
On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire.
Thus at their shady lodge arriv'd, both stood,
Both turn'd, and under op'n sky ador'd
The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'n,
Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe,
And starry pole: "Thou also mad'st the night,
Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day,
Which we, in our appointed work employ'd,
Have finisht; happy in our mutual help
And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss
Ordain'd by thee, and this delicious place,
For us too large, where thy abundance wants
Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground.
But thou hast promis'd from us two a race
To fill the Earth, who shall with us extol
Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake,
And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep."
This said unanimous, and other rites
Observing none, but adoration pure,
Which God likes best, into their inmost bow'r
Handed they went; and, eas'd the putting off
These troublesome disguises which we wear,
Straight side by side were laid; nor turn'd, I ween,
Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites
Mysterious of connubial love refus'd:
Whatever hypocrites austerely talk
Of purity, and place, and innocence
Defaming as impure what God declares
Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all.
Our Maker bids increase: who bids abstain
But our destroyer, foe to God and man?
Hail, wedded love! mysterious law-true source
Of human offspring-sole propriety
In Paradise, of all things common else!
By thee adulterous lust was driv'n from men,
Among the bestial herds to range: by thee,
Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure,
Relations dear, and all the charities
Of father, son, and brother, first were known.
Far be it that I should write thee sin or blame,
Or think thee unbefitting holiest place;
Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets!
Whose bed is undefil'd and chaste pronounc't,
Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs us'd.
Here Love his golden shaft employs, here lights
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings-
Reigns here and revels: not in the bought smile
Of harlots-loveless, joyless, unendear'd,
Casual fruition; nor in court amours,
Mixt dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball,
Or serenate, which the starv'd lover sings
To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain.
These, lull'd by nightingales, embracing slept ;
And on their naked limbs the flow'ry roof
Shower'd roses, which the morn repair'd.
Blest pair! and O yet happiest if ye seek
No happier state, and know to know no more!
Now had night measur'd with her shadowy cone
Half way up hill this vast sublunar vault;
And from their ivory port the Cherubim,
Forth issuing at th' accustom'd hour, stood arm'd
To their night-watches in warlike parade;
When Gabriel to his next in powr thus spake :
Uzziel! half these draw off, and coast the south
With strictest watch; these other wheel the north:
Our circuit meets full west." As flame they part,
Half wheeling to the shield, half to the spear.
From these, two strong and subtle spirits he call'd
That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge:
“Ithuriel and Zephon! with wing'd speed
Search through this garden; leave unsearcht no nook,
But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge,
Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm.
This evening from the sun's decline arriv'd,
Who tells of some infernal spirit seen
Hitherward bent, (who could have thought?) escap'd
The bars of Hell-on errand bad, no doubt.
Such, where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring."
So saying, on he led his radiant files,
Dazzling the moon; these to the bower direct
In search of whom they sought: him there they found,
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve,
Assaying, by his devilish art, to reach
The organs of her fancy, and with them forge
Illusion as he list, phantasms and dreams;
Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint
Th' animal spirits, that from pure blood arise,
Like gentle breaths from rivers pure; thence raise,
At least, distemper'd, discontented thoughts,
Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires,
Blown up with high conceits ingend'ring pride.
Him, thus intent, Ithuriel with his spear
Touch'd lightly; (for no falsehood can endure
Touch of celestial temper, but returns
Of force to its own likeness:) up he starts,
Discover'd and surpris'd. As when a spark
Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid
Fit for the tun, some magazine to store
Against a rumour'd war, the smutty grain,
With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the air;
So started up in his own shape the Fiend.
Back stept those two fair angels, half amaz’d
So sudden to behold the grisly King;
Yet thus, unmov'd with fear, accost him soon:
"Which of those rebel spirits adjudg'd to Hell
Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison? and, transform'd,
Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait,
Here watching at the head of these that sleep?"
"Know ye not, then," said Satan, fill'd with scorn-
"Know ye not me? Ye knew me once no mate
For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar.
Not to know me argues yourselves unknown,
The lowest of your throng; or if ye know,
Why ask ye, and superfluous begin
Your message,-like to end as much in vain?"
To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn .
"Think not, revolted spirit! thy shape the same,
Or undiminisht brightness, to be known,
As when thou stood'st in Heav'n upright and pure.
That glory then, when thou no more wast good,
Departed from thee; and thou resembl'st now
Thy sin, and place of doom,-obscure and foul.
But come! for thou, be sure, shalt give account.
To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep
This place inviolable, and these from harm.”
So spake the cherub; and his grave rebuke,
Severe in youthful beauty, added grace
Invincible. Abasht the Devil stood,
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw
Virtue in her shape how lovely;-saw, and pin'd
His loss; but chiefly to find here observ'd
His lustre visibly impair'd; yet seem'd
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