The Poetical Works of John Milton

  So promis'd hee, and Uriel to his charge
  Returnd on that bright beam, whose point now raisd                  590
  Bore him slope downward to the Sun now fall'n
  Beneath th' Azores; whither the prime Orb,
  Incredible how swift, had thither rowl'd
  Diurnal, or this less volubil Earth
  By shorter flight to th' East, had left him there
  Arraying with reflected Purple and Gold
  The Clouds that on his Western Throne attend:
  Now came still Eevning on, and Twilight gray
  Had in her sober Liverie all things clad;
  Silence accompanied, for Beast and Bird,                            600
  They to thir grassie Couch, these to thir Nests
  Were slunk, all but the wakeful Nightingale;
  She all night long her amorous descant sung;
  Silence was pleas'd: now glow'd the Firmament
  With living Saphirs: Hesperus that led
  The starrie Host, rode brightest, till the Moon
  Rising in clouded Majestie, at length
  Apparent Queen unvaild her peerless light,
  And o're the dark her Silver Mantle threw.
  When Adam thus to Eve: Fair Consort, th' hour                       610
  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 unimploid, and less need rest;
  Man hath his daily work of body or mind
  Appointed, which declares his Dignitie,
  And the regard of Heav'n on all his waies;                          620
  While other Animals unactive range,
  And of thir doings God takes no account.
  Tomorrow ere fresh Morning streak the East
  With first approach of light, we must be ris'n,
  And at our pleasant labour, to reform
  Yon flourie Arbors, yonder Allies green,
  Our walks at noon, with branches overgrown,
  That mock our scant manuring, and require
  More hands then ours to lop thir wanton growth:
  Those Blossoms also, and those dropping Gumms,                      630
  That lie bestrowne unsightly and unsmooth,
  Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease;
  Mean while, as Nature wills, Night bids us rest.
  To whom thus Eve with perfet beauty adornd.
  My Author and Disposer, what thou bidst
  Unargu'd I obey; so God ordains,
  God is thy Law, thou mine: to know no more
  Is womans happiest knowledge and her praise.
  With thee conversing I forget all time,
  All seasons and thir change, all please alike.                      640
  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 flour,
  Glistring with dew; fragrant the fertil earth
  After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
  Of grateful Eevning milde, then silent Night
  With this her solemn Bird and this fair Moon,
  And these the Gemms of Heav'n, her starrie train:
  But neither breath of Morn when she ascends                         650
  With charm of earliest Birds, nor rising Sun
  On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, floure,
  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 Starr-light without thee is sweet.
  But wherfore 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,                           660
  Those have thir course to finish, round the Earth,
  By morrow Eevning, and from Land to Land
  In order, though to Nations yet unborn,
  Ministring light prepar'd, they set and rise;
  Least total darkness should by Night regaine
  Her old possession, and extinguish life
  In Nature and all things, which these soft fires
  Not only enlighten, but with kindly heate
  Of various influence foment and warme,
  Temper or nourish, or in part shed down                             670
  Thir stellar vertue on all kinds that grow
  On Earth, made hereby apter to receive
  Perfection from the Suns 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 ceasless praise his works behold
  Both day and night: how often from the steep                        680
  Of echoing Hill or Thicket have we heard
  Celestial voices to the midnight air,
  Sole, or responsive each to others note
  Singing thir great Creator: oft in bands
  While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk
  With Heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds
  In full harmonic number joind, thir songs
  Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven.
  Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd
  On to thir blissful Bower; it was a place                           690
  Chos'n by the sovran Planter, when he fram'd
  All things to mans delightful use; the roofe
  Of thickest covert was inwoven shade
  Laurel and Mirtle, and what higher grew
  Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side
  Acanthus, and each odorous bushie shrub
  Fenc'd up the verdant wall; each beauteous flour,
  Iris all hues, Roses, and Gessamin
  Rear'd high thir flourisht heads between, and wrought
  Mosaic; underfoot the Violet,                                       700
  Crocus, and Hyacinth with rich inlay
  Broiderd the ground, more colour'd then with stone
  Of costliest Emblem: other Creature here
  Beast, Bird, Insect, or Worm durst enter none;
  Such was thir awe of man. In shadier Bower
  More sacred and sequesterd, though but feignd,
  Pan or 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,                           710
  And heav'nly Quires the Hymenaean sung,
  What day the genial Angel to our Sire
  Brought her in naked beauty more adorn'd,
  More lovely then Pandora, whom the Gods
  Endowd with all thir gifts, and O too like
  In sad event, when to the unwiser Son
  Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnar'd
  Mankind with her faire looks, to be aveng'd
  On him who had stole Joves authentic fire.
  Thus at thir shadie Lodge arriv'd, both stood,                      720
  Both turnd, and under op'n Skie ador'd
  The God that made both Skie, Air, Earth & Heav'n
  Which they beheld, the Moons resplendent Globe
  And starrie Pole: Thou also mad'st the Night,
  Maker Omnipotent, and thou the Day,
  Which we in our appointed work imployd
  Have finisht happie 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                         730
  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 extoll
  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 thir inmost bower
  Handed they went; and eas'd the putting off
  These troublesom disguises which wee wear,                          740
  Strait side by side were laid, nor turnd I weene
  Adam from his fair Spouse, nor Eve the Rites
  Mysterious of connubial Love refus'd:
  Whatever Hypocrites austerely talk
  Of puritie and place and innocence,
  Defaming as impure what God declares
  Pure, and commands to som, leaves free to all.
  Our Maker bids increase, who bids abstain
  But our Destroyer, foe to God and Man?
  Haile wedded Love, mysterious Law, true source                      750
  Of human ofspring, sole proprietie,
  In Paradise of all things common else.
  By thee adulterous lust was driv'n from men
  Among the bestial herds to raunge, by thee
  Founded in Reason, Loyal, Just, and Pure,
  Relations dear, and all the Charities
  Of Father, Son, and Brother first were known.
  Farr be it, that I should write thee sin or blame,
  Or think thee unbefitting holiest place,
  Perpetual Fountain of Domestic sweets,                              760
  Whose Bed is undefil'd and chast pronounc't,
  Present, or past, as Saints and Patriarchs us'd.
  Here Love his golden shafts imploies, here lights
  His constant Lamp, and waves his purple wings,
  Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile
  Of Harlots, loveless, joyless, unindeard,
  Casual fruition, nor in Court Amours
  Mixt Dance, or wanton Mask, or Midnight Bal,
  Or Serenate, which the starv'd Lover sings
  To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain.                       770
  These lulld by Nightingales imbraceing slept,
  And on thir naked limbs the flourie roof
  Showrd Roses, which the Morn repair'd. Sleep on,
  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 shaddowie Cone
  Half way up Hill this vast Sublunar Vault,
  And from thir Ivorie Port the Cherubim
  Forth issuing at th' accustomd hour stood armd
  To thir night watches in warlike Parade,                            780
  When Gabriel to his next in power 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 suttle Spirits he calld
  That neer him stood, and gave them thus in charge.
  Ithuriel and Zephon, with wingd speed
  Search through this Garden, leav unsearcht no nook,
  But chiefly where those two fair Creatures Lodge,                   790
  Now laid perhaps asleep secure of harme.
  This Eevning from the Sun's decline arriv'd
  Who tells of som infernal Spirit seen
  Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escap'd
  The barrs of Hell, on errand bad no doubt:
  Such where ye find, seise fast, and hither bring.
  So saying, on he led his radiant Files,

  Daz'ling the Moon; these to the Bower direct
  In search of whom they sought: him there they found
  Squat like a Toad, close at the eare of Eve;                        800
  Assaying by his Devilish art to reach
  The Organs of her Fancie, and with them forge
  Illusions 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 distemperd, discontented thoughts,
  Vain hopes, vain aimes, inordinate desires
  Blown up with high conceits ingendring pride.
  Him thus intent Ithuriel with his Spear                             810
  Touch'd lightly; for no falshood can endure
  Touch of Celestial temper, but returns
  Of force to its own likeness: up he starts
  Discoverd and surpriz'd. As when a spark
  Lights on a heap of nitrous Powder, laid
  Fit for the Tun som Magazin to store
  Against a rumord Warr, the Smuttie graine
  With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the Aire:
  So started up in his own shape the Fiend.
  Back stept those two fair Angels half amaz'd                        820
  So sudden to behold the grieslie King;
  Yet thus, unmovd with fear, accost him soon.
  Which of those rebell Spirits adjudg'd to Hell
  Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison, and transform'd,
  Why satst thou like an enemie in waite
  Here watching at the head of these that sleep?
  Know ye not then said Satan, filld with scorn,
  Know ye not me? ye knew me once no mate
  For you, there sitting where ye durst not soare;
  Not to know mee argues your selves unknown,                         830
  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 stoodst in Heav'n upright and pure;
  That Glorie then, when thou no more wast good,
  Departed from thee, and thou resembl'st now
  Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foule.                        840
  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 Cherube, and his grave rebuke
  Severe in youthful beautie, added grace
  Invincible: abasht the Devil stood,
  And felt how awful goodness is, and saw
  Vertue in her shape how lovly, saw, and pin'd
  His loss; but chiefly to find here observd
  His lustre visibly impar'd; yet seemd                               850
  Undaunted. If I must contend, said he,
  Best with the best, the Sender not the sent,
  Or all at once; more glorie will be wonn,
  Or less be lost. Thy fear, said Zephon bold,
  Will save us trial what the least can doe
  Single against thee wicked, and thence weak.
  The Fiend repli'd not, overcome with rage;
  But like a proud Steed reind, went hautie on,
  Chaumping his iron curb: to strive or flie
  He held it vain; awe from above had quelld                          860
  His heart, not else dismai'd. Now drew they nigh
  The western point, where those half-rounding guards
  Just met, & closing stood in squadron joind
  Awaiting next command. To whom thir Chief
  Gabriel from the Front thus calld aloud.
  O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet
  Hasting this way, and now by glimps discerne
  Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade,
  And with them comes a third of Regal port,
  But faded splendor wan; who by his gate                             870
  And fierce demeanour seems the Prince of Hell,
  Not likely to part hence without contest;
  Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.
  He scarce had ended, when those two approachd
  And brief related whom they brought, wher found,
  How busied, in what form and posture coucht.
  To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake.
  Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescrib'd
  To thy transgressions, and disturbd the charge
  Of others, who approve not to transgress                            880
  By thy example, but have power and right
  To question thy bold entrance on this place;
  Imploi'd it seems to violate sleep, and those
  Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?
  To whom thus Satan with contemptuous brow.
  Gabriel, thou hadst in Heav'n th' esteem of wise,
  And such I held thee; but this question askt
  Puts me in doubt. Lives ther who loves his pain?
  Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell,
  Though thither doomd? Thou wouldst thy self, no doubt,              890
  And boldly venture to whatever place
  Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change
  Torment with ease, & soonest recompence
  Dole with delight, which in this place I sought;
  To thee no reason; who knowst only good,
  But evil hast not tri'd: and wilt object
  His will who bound us? let him surer barr
  His Iron Gates, if he intends our stay
  In that dark durance: thus much what was askt.
  The rest is true, they found me where they say;                     900
  But that implies not violence or harme.
  Thus hee in scorn. The warlike Angel mov'd,
  Disdainfully half smiling thus repli'd.
  O loss of one in Heav'n to judge of wise,
  Since Satan fell, whom follie overthrew,
  And now returns him from his prison scap't,
  Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise
  Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither
  Unlicenc't from his bounds in Hell prescrib'd;
  So wise he judges it to fly from pain                               910
  However, and to scape his punishment.
  So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrauth,
  Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight
  Seavenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell,
  Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain
  Can equal anger infinite provok't.
  But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee
  Came not all Hell broke loose? is pain to them
  Less pain, less to be fled, or thou then they
  Less hardie to endure? courageous Chief,                            920
  The first in flight from pain, had'st thou alleg'd
  To thy deserted host this cause of flight,
  Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive.
  To which the Fiend thus answerd frowning stern.
  Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain,
  Insulting Angel, well thou knowst I stood
  Thy fiercest, when in Battel to thy aide
  The blasting volied Thunder made all speed
  And seconded thy else not dreaded Spear.
  But still thy words at random, as before,                           930
  Argue thy inexperience what behooves
  From hard assaies and ill successes past
  A faithful Leader, not to hazard all
  Through wayes of danger by himself untri'd.
  I therefore, I alone first undertook
  To wing the desolate Abyss, and spie
  This new created World, whereof in Hell
  Fame is not silent, here in hope to find
  Better abode, and my afflicted Powers
  To settle here on Earth, or in mid Aire;                            940
  Though for possession put to try once more
  What thou and thy gay Legions dare against;
  Whose easier business were to serve thir Lord
  High up in Heav'n, with songs to hymne his Throne,
  And practis'd distances to cringe, not fight.
  To whom the warriour Angel soon repli'd.
  To say and strait unsay, pretending first
  Wise to flie pain, professing next the Spie,
  Argues no Leader, but a lyar trac't,
  Satan, and couldst thou faithful add? O name,                       950
  O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd!
  Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew?
  Armie of Fiends, fit body to fit head;
  Was this your discipline and faith ingag'd,
  Your military obedience, to dissolve
  Allegeance to th' acknowledg'd Power supream?
  And thou sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem
  Patron of liberty, who more then thou
  Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilly ador'd
  Heav'ns awful Monarch? wherefore but in hope                        960
  To dispossess him, and thy self to reigne?
  But mark what I arreede thee now, avant;
  Flie thither whence thou fledst: if from this houre
  Within these hallowd limits thou appeer,
  Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chaind,
  And Seale thee so, as henceforth not to scorne
  The facil gates of hell too slightly barrd.
  So threatn'd hee, but Satan to no threats
  Gave heed, but waxing more in rage repli'd.
  Then when I am thy captive talk of chaines,                         970
  Proud limitarie Cherube, but ere then
  Farr heavier load thy self expect to feel
  From my prevailing arme, though Heavens King
  Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy Compeers,
  Us'd to the yoak, draw'st his triumphant wheels
  In progress through the rode of Heav'n Star-pav'd.
  While thus he spake, th' Angelic Squadron bright
  Turnd fierie red, sharpning in mooned hornes
  Thir Phalanx, and began to hemm him round
  With ported Spears, as thick as when a field                        980
  Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends
  Her bearded Grove of ears, which way the wind
  Swayes them; the careful Plowman doubting stands
  Least on the threshing floore his hopeful sheaves
  Prove chaff. On th' other side Satan allarm'd
  Collecting all his might dilated stood,
  Like Teneriff or Atlas unremov'd:
  His stature reacht the Skie, and on his Crest
  Sat horror Plum'd; nor wanted in his graspe
  What seemd both Spear and Shield: now dreadful deeds                990
  Might have ensu'd, nor onely Paradise
  In this commotion, but the Starrie Cope
  Of Heav'n perhaps, or all the Elements
  At least had gon to rack, disturbd and torne
  With violence of this conflict, had not soon
  Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray
  Hung forth in Heav'n his golden Scales, yet seen
  Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion signe,
  Wherein all things created first he weighd,
  The pendulous round Earth with ballanc't Aire                      1000
  In counterpoise, now ponders all events,
  Battels and Realms: in these he put two weights
  The sequel each of parting and of fight;
  The latter quick up flew, and kickt the beam;
  Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the Fiend.
  Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowst mine,
  Neither our own but giv'n; what follie then
  To boast what Arms can doe, since thine no more
  Then Heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubld now
  To trample thee as mire: for proof look up,                        1010
  And read thy Lot in yon celestial Sign
  Where thou art weigh'd, & shown how light, how weak,
  If thou resist. The Fiend lookt up and knew
  His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled
  Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.

  Notes:
  Argument: promises to find him out]  promises to find him 1674
  627 walks] walk 1674.
  928 The] Thy 1674.

  The End Of The Fourth Book.

  Now Morn her rosie steps in th' Eastern Clime
  Advancing, sow'd the Earth with Orient Pearle,
  When Adam wak't, so customd, for his sleep
  Was Aerie light, from pure digestion bred,
  And temperat vapors bland, which th' only sound
  Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
  Lightly dispers'd, and the shrill Matin Song
  Of Birds on every bough; so much the more
  His wonder was to find unwak'nd Eve
  With Tresses discompos'd, and glowing Cheek,                         10
  As through unquiet rest: he on his side
  Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial Love
  Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
  Beautie, which whether waking or asleep,

  Shot forth peculiar Graces; then with voice
  Milde, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
  Her hand soft touching, whisperd thus. Awake
  My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found,
  Heav'ns last best gift, my ever new delight,
  Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field                       20
  Calls us, we lose the prime, to mark how spring
  Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,
  What drops the Myrrhe, & what the balmie Reed,
  How Nature paints her colours, how the Bee
  Sits on the Bloom extracting liquid sweet.
  Such whispering wak'd her, but with startl'd eye
  On Adam, whom imbracing, thus she spake.
  O Sole in whom my thoughts find all repose,
  My Glorie, my Perfection, glad I see
  Thy face, and Morn return'd, for I this Night,                       30
  Such night till this I never pass'd, have dream'd,
  If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee,
  Works of day pass't, or morrows next designe,
  But of offence and trouble, which my mind
  Knew never till this irksom night; methought
  Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk
  With gentle voice, I thought it thine; it said,
  Why sleepst thou Eve? now is the pleasant time,
  The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
  To the night-warbling Bird, that now awake                           40
  Tunes sweetest his love-labor'd song; now reignes
  Full Orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing light
  Shadowie sets off the face of things; in vain,
  If none regard; Heav'n wakes with all his eyes,
  Whom to behold but thee, Natures desire,
  In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment
  Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.
  I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;
  To find thee I directed then my walk;
  And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways                       50
  That brought me on a sudden to the Tree
  Of interdicted Knowledge: fair it seem'd,
  Much fairer to my Fancie then by day:
  And as I wondring lookt, beside it stood
  One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Heav'n
  By us oft seen; his dewie locks distill'd
  Ambrosia; on that Tree he also gaz'd;
  And O fair Plant, said he, with fruit surcharg'd,
  Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet,
  Nor God, nor Man; is Knowledge so despis'd?                          60
  Or envie, or what reserve forbids to taste?
  Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold
  Longer thy offerd good, why else set here?
  This said he paus'd not, but with ventrous Arme
  He pluckt, he tasted; mee damp horror chil'd
  At such bold words voucht with a deed so bold:
  But he thus overjoy'd, O Fruit Divine,
  Sweet of thy self, but much more sweet thus cropt,
  Forbidd'n here, it seems, as onely fit
  For Gods, yet able to make Gods of Men:                              70
  And why not Gods of Men, since good, the more
  Communicated, more abundant growes,
  The Author not impair'd, but honourd more?
  Here, happie Creature, fair Angelic Eve,
  Partake thou also; happie though thou art,
  Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst not be:
  Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods
  Thy self a Goddess, not to Earth confind,
  But somtimes in the Air, as wee, somtimes
  Ascend to Heav'n, by merit thine, and see                            80
  What life the Gods live there, and such live thou.
  So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held,
  Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part
  Which he had pluckt; the pleasant savourie smell
  So quick'nd appetite, that I, methought,
  Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the Clouds
  With him I flew, and underneath beheld
  The Earth outstretcht immense, a prospect wide
  And various: wondring at my flight and change
  To this high exaltation; suddenly                                    90
  My Guide was gon, and I, me thought, sunk down,
  And fell asleep; but O how glad I wak'd
  To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her Night
  Related, and thus Adam answerd sad.
  Best Image of my self and dearer half,
  The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep
  Affects me equally; nor can I like
  This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear;
  Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none,
  Created pure. But know that in the Soule                            100
  Are many lesser Faculties that serve
  Reason as chief; among these Fansie next
  Her office holds; of all external things,
  Which the five watchful Senses represent,
  She forms Imaginations, Aerie shapes,
  Which Reason joyning or disjoyning, frames
  All what we affirm or what deny, and call
  Our knowledge or opinion; then retires
  Into her private Cell when Nature rests.
  Oft in her absence mimic Fansie wakes                               110
  To imitate her; but misjoyning shapes,
  Wilde work produces oft, and most in dreams,
  Ill matching words and deeds long past or late.
  Som such resemblances methinks I find
  Of our last Eevnings talk, in this thy dream,
  But with addition strange; yet be not sad.
  Evil into the mind of God or Man
  May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave
  No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope
  That what in sleep thou didst abhorr to dream,                      120
  Waking thou never wilt consent to do.
  Be not disheart'nd then, nor cloud those looks
  That wont to be more chearful and serene
  Then when fair Morning first smiles on the World,
  And let us to our fresh imployments rise
  Among the Groves, the Fountains, and the Flours
  That open now thir choicest bosom'd smells
  Reservd from night, and kept for thee in store.
  So cheard he his fair Spouse, and she was cheard,
  But silently a gentle tear let fall                                 130
  From either eye, and wip'd them with her haire;
  Two other precious drops that ready stood,
  Each in thir chrystal sluce, hee ere they fell
  Kiss'd as the gracious signs of sweet remorse
  And pious awe, that feard to have offended.
  So all was cleard, and to the Field they haste.
  But first from under shadie arborous roof,
  Soon as they forth were come to open sight
  Of day-spring, and the Sun, who scarce up risen
  With wheels yet hov'ring o're the Ocean brim,                       140
  Shot paralel to the earth his dewie ray,
  Discovering in wide Lantskip all the East
  Of Paradise and Edens happie Plains,
  Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began
  Thir Orisons, each Morning duly paid
  In various style, for neither various style
  Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise
  Thir Maker, in fit strains pronounc't or sung
  Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence
  Flowd from thir lips, in Prose or numerous Verse,                   150
  More tuneable then needed Lute or Harp
  To add more sweetness, and they thus began.
  These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,
  Almightie, thine this universal Frame,
  Thus wondrous fair; thy self how wondrous then!
  Unspeakable, who sitst above these Heavens
  To us invisible or dimly seen
  In these thy lowest works, yet these declare
  Thy goodness beyond thought, and Power Divine:
  Speak yee who best can tell, ye Sons of light,                      160
  Angels, for yee behold him, and with songs
  And choral symphonies, Day without Night,
  Circle his Throne rejoycing, yee in Heav'n,
  On Earth joyn all yee Creatures to extoll
  Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
  Fairest of Starrs, last in the train of Night,
  If better thou belong not to the dawn,
  Sure pledge of day, that crownst the smiling Morn
  With thy bright Circlet, praise him in thy Spheare
  While day arises, that sweet hour of Prime.                         170
  Thou Sun, of this great World both Eye and Soule,
  Acknowledge him thy Greater, sound his praise
  In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
  And when high Noon hast gaind, & when thou fallst.
  Moon, that now meetst the orient Sun, now fli'st
  With the fixt Starrs, fixt in thir Orb that flies,
  And yee five other wandring Fires that move
  In mystic Dance not without Song, resound
  His praise, who out of Darkness call'd up Light.
  Aire, and ye Elements the eldest birth                              180
  Of Natures Womb, that in quaternion run
  Perpetual Circle, multiform; and mix
  And nourish all things, let your ceasless change
  Varie to our great Maker still new praise.
  Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise
  From Hill or steaming Lake, duskie or grey,
  Till the Sun paint your fleecie skirts with Gold,
  In honour to the Worlds great Author rise,
  Whether to deck with Clouds the uncolourd skie,
  Or wet the thirstie Earth with falling showers,                     190
  Rising or falling still advance his praise.
  His praise ye Winds, that from four Quarters blow,
  Breath soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines,
  With every Plant, in sign of Worship wave.
  Fountains and yee, that warble, as ye flow,
  Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
  Joyn voices all ye living Souls, ye Birds,
  That singing up to Heaven Gate ascend,
  Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise;
  Yee that in Waters glide, and yee that walk                         200
  The Earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
  Witness if I be silent, Morn or Eeven,
  To Hill, or Valley, Fountain, or fresh shade
  Made vocal by my Song, and taught his praise.
  Hail universal Lord, be bounteous still
  To give us onely good; and if the night
  Have gathered aught of evil or conceald,
  Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.
  So pray'd they innocent, and to thir thoughts
  Firm peace recoverd soon and wonted calm.                           210
  On to thir mornings rural work they haste
  Among sweet dewes and flours; where any row
  Of Fruit-trees overwoodie reachd too farr
  Thir pamperd boughes, and needed hands to check
  Fruitless imbraces: or they led the Vine
  To wed her Elm; she spous'd about him twines
  Her mariageable arms, and with her brings
  Her dowr th' adopted Clusters, to adorn
  His barren leaves. Them thus imploid beheld
  With pittie Heav'ns high King, and to him call'd                    220
  Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deign'd
  To travel with Tobias, and secur'd
  His marriage with the seaventimes-wedded Maid.
  Raphael, said hee, thou hear'st what stir on Earth
  Satan from Hell scap't through the darksom Gulf
  Hath raisd in Paradise, and how disturbd
  This night the human pair, how he designes
  In them at once to ruin all mankind.
  Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend
  Converse with Adam, in what Bowre or shade                          230
  Thou find'st him from the heat of Noon retir'd,
  To respit his day-labour with repast,
  Or with repose; and such discourse bring on,
  As may advise him of his happie state,
  Happiness in his power left free to will,
  Left to his own free Will, his Will though free,
  Yet mutable; whence warne him to beware
  He swerve not too secure: tell him withall
  His danger, and from whom, what enemie
  Late falln himself from Heav'n, is plotting now                     240
  The fall of others from like state of bliss;
  By violence, no, for that shall be withstood,
  But by deceit and lies; this let him know,
  Least wilfully transgressing he pretend
  Surprisal, unadmonisht, unforewarnd.
  So spake th' Eternal Father, and fulfilld
  All Justice: nor delaid the winged Saint
  After his charge receivd, but from among
  Thousand Celestial Ardors, where he stood
  Vaild with his gorgeous wings, up springing light                   250
  Flew through the midst of Heav'n; th' angelic Quires
  On each hand parting, to his speed gave way
  Through all th' Empyreal road; till at the Gate
  Of Heav'n arriv'd, the gate self-opend wide
  On golden Hinges turning, as by work
  Divine the sov'ran Architect had fram'd.
  From hence, no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight,
  Starr interpos'd, however small he sees,
  Not unconform to other shining Globes,
  Earth and the Gard'n of God, with Cedars crownd                     260
  Above all Hills. As when by night the Glass
  Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes
  Imagind Lands and Regions in the Moon:
  Or Pilot from amidst the Cyclades
  Delos or Samos first appeering kenns
  A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight
  He speeds, and through the vast Ethereal Skie
  Sailes between worlds & worlds, with steddie wing
  Now on the polar windes, then with quick Fann
  Winnows the buxom Air; till within soare                            270
  Of Towring Eagles, to all the Fowles he seems
  A Phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole Bird
  When to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's
  Bright Temple, to Aegyptian Theb's he flies.
  At once on th' Eastern cliff of Paradise
  He lights, and to his proper shape returns
  A Seraph wingd; six wings he wore, to shade
  His lineaments Divine; the pair that clad
  Each shoulder broad, came mantling o're his brest
  With regal Ornament; the middle pair                                280
  Girt like a Starrie Zone his waste, and round
  Skirted his loines and thighes with downie Gold
  And colours dipt in Heav'n; the third his feet
  Shaddowd from either heele with featherd maile
  Skie-tinctur'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood,
  And shook his Plumes, that Heav'nly fragrance filld
  The circuit wide. Strait knew him all the bands
  Of Angels under watch; and to his state,
  And to his message high in honour rise;
  For on som message high they guessd him bound.                      290
  Thir glittering Tents he passd, and now is come
  Into the blissful field, through Groves of Myrrhe,
  And flouring Odours, Cassia, Nard, and Balme;
  A Wilderness of sweets; for Nature here
  Wantond as in her prime, and plaid at will
  Her Virgin Fancies, pouring forth more sweet,
  Wilde above rule or art; enormous bliss.
  Him through the spicie Forrest onward com
  Adam discernd, as in the dore he sat
  Of his coole Bowre, while now the mounted Sun                       300
  Shot down direct his fervid Raies, to warme
  Earths inmost womb, more warmth then Adam needs;
  And Eve within, due at her hour prepar'd
  For dinner savourie fruits, of taste to please
  True appetite, and not disrelish thirst
  Of nectarous draughts between, from milkie stream,
  Berrie or Grape: to whom thus Adam call'd.
  Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight behold
  Eastward among those Trees, what glorious shape

  Comes this way moving; seems another Morn                           310
  Ris'n on mid-noon; som great behest from Heav'n
  To us perhaps he brings, and will voutsafe
  This day to be our Guest. But goe with speed,
  And what thy stores contain, bring forth and poure
  Abundance, fit to honour and receive
  Our Heav'nly stranger; well we may afford
  Our givers thir own gifts, and large bestow
  From large bestowd, where Nature multiplies
  Her fertil growth, and by disburd'ning grows
  More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare.                     320
  To whom thus Eve. Adam, earths hallowd mould,
  Of God inspir'd, small store will serve, where store,
  All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk;
  Save what by frugal storing firmness gains
  To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes:
  But I will haste and from each bough and break,
  Each Plant & juciest Gourd will pluck such choice
  To entertain our Angel guest, as hee
  Beholding shall confess that here on Earth
  God hath dispenst his bounties as in Heav'n.                        330
  So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste
  She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent
  What choice to chuse for delicacie best,
  What order, so contriv'd as not to mix
  Tastes, not well joynd, inelegant, but bring
  Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change,
  Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk
  Whatever Earth all-bearing Mother yeilds
  In India East or West, or middle shoare
  In Pontus or the Punic Coast, or where                              340
  Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kindes, in coate,
  Rough, or smooth rin'd, or bearded husk, or shell
  She gathers, Tribute large, and on the board
  Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the Grape
  She crushes, inoffensive moust, and meathes
  From many a berrie, and from sweet kernels prest
  She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold
  Wants her fit vessels pure, then strews the ground
  With Rose and Odours from the shrub unfum'd.
  Mean while our Primitive great Sire, to meet                        350
  His god-like Guest, walks forth, without more train
  Accompani'd then with his own compleat
  Perfections, in himself was all his state,
  More solemn then the tedious pomp that waits
  On Princes, when thir rich Retinue long
  Of Horses led, and Grooms besmeard with Gold
  Dazles the croud, and sets them all agape.
  Neerer his presence Adam though not awd,
  Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek,
  As to a superior Nature, bowing low,                                360
  Thus said. Native of Heav'n, for other place
  None can then Heav'n such glorious shape contain;
  Since by descending from the Thrones above,
  Those happie places thou hast deignd a while
  To want, and honour these, voutsafe with us
  Two onely, who yet by sov'ran gift possess
  This spacious ground, in yonder shadie Bowre
  To rest, and what the Garden choicest bears
  To sit and taste, till this meridian heat
  Be over, and the Sun more coole decline.                            370
  Whom thus the Angelic Vertue answerd milde.
  Adam, I therefore came, nor art thou such
  Created, or such place hast here to dwell,
  As may not oft invite, though Spirits of Heav'n
  To visit thee; lead on then where thy Bowre
  Oreshades; for these mid-hours, till Eevning rise
  I have at will. So to the Silvan Lodge
  They came, that like Pomona's Arbour smil'd
  With flourets deck't and fragrant smells; but Eve
  Undeckt, save with her self more lovely fair                        380
  Then Wood-Nymph, or the fairest Goddess feign'd
  Of three that in Mount Ida naked strove,
  Stood to entertain her guest from Heav'n; no vaile
  Shee needed, Vertue-proof, no thought infirme
  Alterd her cheek. On whom the Angel Haile
  Bestowd, the holy salutation us'd
  Long after to blest Marie, second Eve.
  Haile Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful Womb
  Shall fill the World more numerous with thy Sons
  Then with these various fruits the Trees of God                     390
  Have heap'd this Table. Rais'd of grassie terf
  Thir Table was, and mossie seats had round,
  And on her ample Square from side to side
  All Autumn pil'd, though Spring and Autumn here
  Danc'd hand in hand. A while discourse they hold;
  No fear lest Dinner coole; when thus began
  Our Authour. Heav'nly stranger, please to taste
  These bounties which our Nourisher, from whom
  All perfet good unmeasur'd out, descends,
  To us for food and for delight hath caus'd                          400
  The Earth to yeild; unsavourie food perhaps
  To spiritual Natures; only this I know,
  That one Celestial Father gives to all.
  To whom the Angel. Therefore what he gives
  (Whose praise be ever sung) to man in part
  Spiritual, may of purest Spirits be found
  No ingrateful food: and food alike those pure
  Intelligential substances require
  As doth your Rational; and both contain
  Within them every lower facultie                                    410
  Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste,
  Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate,
  And corporeal to incorporeal turn.
  For know, whatever was created, needs
  To be sustaind and fed; of Elements
  The grosser feeds the purer, earth the sea,
  Earth and the Sea feed Air, the Air those Fires
  Ethereal, and as lowest first the Moon;
  Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurg'd
  Vapours not yet into her substance turnd.                           420
  Nor doth the Moon no nourishment exhale
  From her moist Continent to higher Orbes.
  The Sun that light imparts to all, receives
  From all his alimental recompence
  In humid exhalations, and at Even
  Sups with the Ocean: though in Heav'n the Trees
  Of life ambrosial frutage bear, and vines
  Yeild Nectar, though from off the boughs each Morn
  We brush mellifluous Dewes, and find the ground
  Cover'd with pearly grain: yet God hath here                        430
  Varied his bounty so with new delights,
  As may compare with Heaven; and to taste
  Think not I shall be nice. So down they sat,
  And to thir viands fell, nor seemingly
  The Angel, nor in mist, the common gloss
  Of Theologians, but with keen dispatch
  Of real hunger, and concoctive heate
  To transubstantiate; what redounds, transpires
  Through Spirits with ease; nor wonder; if by fire
  Of sooty coal the Empiric Alchimist                                 440
  Can turn, or holds it possible to turn
  Metals of drossiest Ore to perfet Gold
  As from the Mine. Mean while at Table Eve
  Ministerd naked, and thir flowing cups
  With pleasant liquors crown'd: O innocence
  Deserving Paradise! if ever, then,
  Then had the Sons of God excuse to have bin
  Enamour'd at that sight; but in those hearts
  Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousie
  Was understood, the injur'd Lovers Hell.                            450
  Thus when with meats & drinks they had suffic'd,
  Not burd'nd Nature, sudden mind arose
  In Adam, not to let th' occasion pass
  Given him by this great Conference to know
  Of things above his World, and of thir being
  Who dwell in Heav'n, whose excellence he saw
  Transcend his own so farr, whose radiant forms
  Divine effulgence, whose high Power so far
  Exceeded human, and his wary speech
  Thus to th' Empyreal Minister he fram'd.                            460
  Inhabitant with God, now know I well
  Thy favour, in this honour done to man,
  Under whose lowly roof thou hast voutsaf't
  To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste,
  Food not of Angels, yet accepted so,
  As that more willingly thou couldst not seem
  At Heav'ns high feasts to have fed: yet what compare?
  To whom the winged Hierarch repli'd.