To resalute the world with sacred light, Leucothea waked; and with fresh dews embalm'd 135 The earth; when Adam and first matron Eve Had ended now their orisons, and found 140 The good which we enjoy from Heaven descends; But, that from us aught should ascend to Heaven 145 Of God high-bless'd, or to incline his will, 150 That I was heard with favour; peace return'd His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe; 155 Is pass'd, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee, 160 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 165 Rather belongs, distrust, and all dispraise; But infinite in pardon was my Judge, That I, who first brought death on all, am graced 'The source of life; next favourable thou, Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsafest, 170 Far other name deserving. But the field To labour calls us, now with sweat imposed, 175 180 So spake, so wish'd much humbled Eve; but Fate Subscribed not: Nature first gave signs, impress'd On bird, beast, air; air suddenly eclipsed, After short blush of morn; nigh in her sight The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour, Two birds of gayest plume before him drove ; Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace, Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind; Direct to the eastern gate was bent their flight. Adam observed, and with his eye the chase Pursuing, not unmoved, to Eve thus spake : 185 190 O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh, Which Heaven, by these mute signs in Nature, shows Forerunners of his purpose; or to warn 195 Us, haply too secure of our discharge From penalty, because from death released 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? 200 Why else this double object in our sight Of flight pursued in the air, and o'er the ground, One way the selfsame hour? why in the east Darkness ere day's mid-course, and morning-light More orient in yon western cloud, that draws 205 O'er the blue firmament a radiant white, And slow descends with something heavenly fraught? In Paradise, and on a hill made halt; 210 A glorious apparition, had not doubt The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright: 215 War unproclaim'd. The princely Hierarch 220 In their bright stand there left his Powers, to seize To find where Adam shelter'd, took his way, Not unperceived 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 From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill, 230 One of the heavenly host! and, by his gait, As Raphaël, that I should much confide; 235 But solemn and sublime; whom not to offend, With reverence I must meet, and thou retire. He ended and the Archangel soon drew nigh, Not in his shape celestial, but as man Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms 240 A military vest of purple flow'd, 245 Satan's dire dread; and in his hand the spear. 250 Adam! Heaven's high behest no preface needs. Given thee of grace; wherein thou mayst repent, 255 Permits not to remove thee I am come, O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death! 260 265 Thee, native soil! these happy walks and shades, 270 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 275 At even, which I bred up with tender hand From the first opening bud, and gave ye names! Thee lastly, nuptial bower! by me adorn'd 280 Into a lower world; to this obscure And wild? how shall we breathe in other air Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits? 265 Whom thus the Angel interrupted mild : B. XI. 290 295 Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or named Of them the highest; for such of shape may seem Prince above princes: gently hast thou told Thy message, which might else in telling wound, And in performing end us; what besides 300 Of sorrow, and dejection, and despair, Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring, Departure from this happy place, our sweet Familiar to our eyes! all places else 305 Inhospitable 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 assiduous cries: 310 But prayer against his absolute decree No more avails than breath against the wind, Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth: Therefore to his great bidding I submit. This most afflicts me, that, departing hence, 315 As from his face I shall be hid, deprived His blessed countenance: here I could frequent With worship place by place where he vouchsafed On this mount he appear'd; under this tree 320 |