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When first to earth thy gentle spirit came
From some soft climate of Elysian field,
Garmented in its own ethereal flame;
When first from heav’n’s high peace it enter’d here,
No armour had it then, nor guarding shield,
Nor sword for safety, nor attacking spear,
No pang’d misgivings suffered it, nor fear,
Seeing in every face its own sweet face,
Smiling to treachery with trustful eyes,
Finding in nature its own nature’s grace:
—So Adam in his vision’d Paradise
Saw but God’s gifts, till taste of bitter ruth
Taught him what earth’s creation is in truth:—
Now, O stern angel, none can make relent
Thy steely wrath, thy sword of punishment.