What think'st thou of our empire now, though earn'd With travel difficult, not better far [watch, Than still at Hell's dark threshold to have sat Unnam'd, undreaded, and thyself half-starv'd ?" Whom thus the Sin-born monster answer'd soon. "To me, who with eternal famine pine, Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven; There best, where most with ravine I may meet; Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems To stuff this maw, this vast unhide-bound corps." To whom the incestuous mother thus replied. "Thou therefore on these herbs, and fruits, and flowers,
Feed first; on each beast next, and fish and fowl; No homely morsels! and whatever thing The sithe of Time mows down, devour unspar'd; Till I, in Man residing, through the race, His thoughts, his looks, words, actions, all infect; And season him thy last and sweetest prey."
This said, they both betook them several ways, Both to destroy, or unimmortal make All kinds, and for destruction to mature Sooner or later; which the Almighty seeing, From his transcendent seat the saints among, To those bright orders uttered thus his voice. "See, with what heat these dogs of Hell advance To waste and havoc yonder world, which I So fair and good created; and had still Kept in that state, had not the folly of Man Let in these wasteful furies, who impute Folly to me; so doth the prince of Hell And his adherents, that with so much ease I suffer them to enter and possess A place so heavenly: and, conniving, seem To gratify my scornful enemics, That laugh, as if, transported with some fit Of passion, I to them had quitted all, At random yielded up to their misrule; And know not that I call'd, and drew them thither, My Hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth Which Man's polluting sin with taint hath shed On what was pure; till cramm'd and gorg'd, nigh burst
With suck'd and glutted offal, at one sling Of thy victorious arm, well pleasing Son, Both Sin, and Death, and yawning Grave, at last, Through Chaos hurl'd, obstruct the mouth of Hell For ever, and scal up his ravenous jaws. Then Heaven and Earth renew'd shall be made To sanctity, that shall receive no stain: Till then, the curse pronounc'd on both precedes." He ended, and the heavenly audience loud Sung Halleluiah, as the sound of seas, Through multitude that sung: "Just are thy ways, Righteous are thy decrees on all thy works; Who can extenuate thee? Next, to the Son, Destin'd Restorer of mankind, by whom New Heaven and Earth shall to the ages rise, Or down from Heaven descend.". Such was their
song; While the Creator, calling forth by name His mighty angels, gave them several charge, As sorted best with present things. The Sun Had first his precept so to move, so shine, As might affect the Earth with cold and heat Scarce tolerable, and from the north to call Decrepit winter; from the south to bring Solstitial summer's heat. To the blanc Moon Her office they prescribed; to the other five Their planetary motions, and aspécts,
| In sextile, square, and trine, and opposite, Of noxious efficacy, and when to join In synod unbenign; and taught the fix'd Their influence malignant when to shower, Which of them rising with the Sun, or falling, Should prove tempestuous; to the winds they set Their corners, when with bluster to confound Sea, air, and shore; the thunder when to roll With terrour through the dark aëreal hall. Some say he bid his angels turn ascanse The poles of Earth, twice ten degrees and more, From the Sun's axle; they with labour push'd Oblique the centric globe: some say, the Sun Was bid turn reins from the equinoctial road Like distant breadth to Taurus with the seven Atlantic Sisters, and the Spartan Twins, Up to the tropic Crab: thence down amain By Leo, and the Virgin, and the Scales, As deep as Capricorn; to bring in change Of seasons to each clime; else had the spring Perpetual smil'd on Earth with vernant flow'rs, Equal in days and nights, except to those Beyond the polar circles; to them day Had unbenighted shone, while the low Sun, To recompense his distance, in their sight Had rounded still the horizon, and not known Or east or west; which had forbid the snow From cold Estotiland, and south as far Beneath Magellan. At that tasted fruit The Sun, as from Thyéstean banquet, turn'd His course intended; else, how had the world Inhabited, though sinless, more than now, Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat? [duc'd These changes in the Heavens, though slow, pro- Like change on sea and land; sideral blast, Vapour, and mist, and exhalation hot, Corrupt and pestilent: now, from the north Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shore, Bursting their brazen dungeon, arm'd with ice, And snow, and hail, and stormy gust and flaw, Boreas, and Cacias, and Argestes loud, And Thrascias, rend the woods, and seas upturn; With adverse blast upturns them from the south Notus, and Afer black with thunderous clouds From Serraliona; thwart of these, as fierce, Forth rush the Lévant and the Ponent winds, Eurus and Zephyr, with their lateral noise, Sirocco and Libecchio. Thus began Outrage from lifeless things; but Discord first, Daughter of Sin, among the irrational Death introduc'd, through fierce antipathy: Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl, And fish with fish: to graze the herb all leaving, Devour'd each other; nor stood much in awe Of Man, but fled him: or, with countenance grim, Glar'd on him passing. These were from without The growing miseries, which Adam saw Already in part, though hid in gloomiest shade, To sorrow abandon'd, but worse felt within; And, in a troubled sea of passion tost, Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint. "O miserable of happy! Is this the end Of this new glorious world, and me so late The glory of that glory, who now become Accurs'd, of blessed? hide me from the face Of God, whom to behold was then my height Of happiness! Yet well, if here would end The misery; I deserv'd it, and would bear My own deservings; but this will not serve: All that I eat or drink, or shall beget,
Is propagated curse, O voice, once heard Delightfully, Increase and multiply; Now death to hear! for what can I increase, Or multiply, but curses on my head? Who of all ages to succeed, but, feeling The evil on him brought by me, will curse My head? Ill fare our ancestor impure, For this we may thank Adam! but his thanks Stall be the execration: so, besides Mine own that bide upon me, all from me Sall with a fierce reflux on me rebound; On me, as on their natural centre, light Heavy, though in their place. O fleeting joys Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes! Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me Man? Did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me, or here place In this delicious garden? As my will Concurr'd not to my being, it were but right And equal to reduce me to my dust; Desirous to resign and render back All I receiv'd; unable to perform Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold The good I sought not. To the loss of that, Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added The sense of endless woes? Inexplicable Thy justice seems; yet, to say truth, too late I thus contest; then should have been refus'd These terms, whatever, when they were propos'd: Thou didst accept them: wilt thou enjoy the good, Then cavil the conditions? and, though God Made thee without thy leave, what if thy son Prove disobedient; and, reprov'd, retort, Wherefore didst thou beget me? I sought it not :' Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee That proud excuse? yet him not thy election, But natural necessity, begot.
God made thee of choice his own, and of his own To serve him; thy reward was of his grace; Thy punishment then justly is at his will. Be it so, for I submit; his doom is fair, That dust I am, and shall to dust return : O welcome hour whenever! Why delays His hand to execute what his decree Fix'd on this day? Why do I overlive?
Why am I mock'd with death, and lengthen'd out To deathless pain? How gladly would I meet Mortality my sentence, and be earth Insensible! How glad would lay me down As in my mother's lap ! There I should rest And sleep secure; his dreadful voice no more Would thunder in my ears; no fear of worse Το me, and to my offspring, would torment me With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die; Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of Man Which God inspir'd, cannot together perish With this corporeal clod: then, in the grave, Or in some other dismal place, who knows But I shall die a living death? O thought Horrid, if true! Yet why? It was but breath Of life that sinn'd; what dies but what had life And sin? The body properly hath neither. All of me then shall die: let this appease The doubt, since human reach no further knows. For though the Lord of all be infinite, Is his wrath also? Be it, Man is not so, But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise Wrath without end on Man, whom death must end? Can he make deathless death? That were to make
Strange contradiction, which to God himself Impossible is held; as argument Of weakness, not of power. Will he draw out, For anger's sake, finite to infinite, In punish'd Man, to satisfy his rigour, Satisfied never? That were to extend His sentence beyond dust and Nature's law: By which all causes else, according still To the reception of their matter, act; Not to the extent of their own sphere. That death be not one stroke, as I suppos'd, Bereaving sense, but endless misery From this day onward; which I feel begun Both in me, and without me; and so last To perpetuity: -Ay me! that fear Comes thundering back with dreadful revolution On my defenceless head; both Death and 1 Are found eternal, and incorporate both; Nor I on my part single; in me all Posterity stands curs'd: fair patrimony That I must leave ye, sons! O, were I able To waste it all myself, and leave ye none! So disinherited, how would you bless
Me, now your curse! Ah, why should all mankind For one man's fault, thus guiltless be condemn'd, If guiltless? But from me what can proceed, But all corrupt; both mind and will deprav'd Not to do only, but to will the same With me? How can they then acquitted stand In sight of God? Him, after all disputes, Forc'd I absolve: all my evasions vain, And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still But to my own conviction: first and last On me, me only, as the source and spring Of all corruption, all the blame lights due; So might the wrath! fond wish! couldst thou support That burden, heavier than the Earth to bear; Than all the world much heavier, though divided With that bad woman? Thus, what thou desir'st, And what thou fear'st, alike destroys all hope Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable Beyond all past example and future; To Satan only like both crime and doom. O Conscience! into what abyss of fears And horrours hast thou driven me; out of which I find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd!" Thus Adam to himself lamented loud, Through the still night; not now, as ere Man fell, Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black air Accompanied; with damps, and dreadful gloom; Which to his evil conscience represented
All things with double terrour: on the ground Outstretch'd he lay, on the cold ground; and oft Curs'd his creation; Death as oft accus'd Of tardy execution, since denounc'd The day of his offence. "Why comes not Death," Said he, "with one thrice-acceptable stroke To end me? Shall Truth fail to keep her word, Justice Divine not hasten to be just? But Death comes not at call; Justice Divine Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries. O woods, O fountains, hillocks, dales, and bowers! With other echo late I taught your shades To answer, and resound far other song.' Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh, Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd: But her with stern regard he thus repell'd.
"Out of my sight, thou serpent! That name best Befits thee with him leagu'd, thyself as false
And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape, Like his, and colour serpentine, may show Thy inward fraud; to warn all creatures from thee Henceforth; lest that too heavenly form, pretended To hellish falsehood, snare them! But for thee I had persisted happy; had not thy pride And wandering vanity, when least was safe, Rejected my forewarning, and disdain'd Not to be trusted; longing to be seen, Though by the Devil himself; him overweening To over-reach; but, with the serpent meeting, Fool'd and beguil'd; by him thou, I by thee, To trust thee from my side; imagin'd wise, Constant, mature, proof against all assaults ; And understood not all was but a show, Rather than solid virtue; all but a rib Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, More to the part sinister, from me drawn ; Well if thrown out, as supernumerary
To my just number found. O! why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest Heaven With spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on Earth, this fair defect Of Nature, and not fill the world at once With men, as angels, without feminine; Or find some other way to generate Mankind? This mischief had not then befall'n, And more that shall befall; innumerable Disturbances on Earth through female snares, And straight conjunction with this sex: for either He never shall find out fit mate, but such As some misfortune brings him, or mistake; Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain Through her perverseness, but shall see her gain'd By a far worse; or, if she love, withheld By parents; or his happiest choice too late Shall meet, already link'd and wedlock-bound To a fell adversary, his hate or shame; Which infinite calamity shall cause
To human life, and household peace confound."
He added not, and from her turn'd; but Eve, Not so repuls'd, with tears that ceas'd not flowing And tresses all disorder'd, at his feet
Fell humble; and, embracing them, besought His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint.
"Forsake me not thus, Adam! witness Heaven What love sincere, and reverence in my heart I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, Unhappily deceiv'd! Thy suppliant
I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not, Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, Thy counsel, in this uttermost distress, My only strength and stay: forlorn of thee, Whither shall I betake me, where subsist? While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, Between us two let there be peace; both joining, As join'd in injuries, one enmity Against a foe by doom express assign'd us, That cruel serpent: on me exercise not Thy hatred for this misery befall'n; On me already lost, me than thyself
More miserable! Both have sinn'd; but thou Against God only; I against God and thee; And to the place of judgment will return, There with my crimes impórtune Heaven; that all The sentence, from thy head remov'd, may light On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe; Me, me only, just object of his ire!"
She ended weeping; and her lowly plight, Immoveable, till peace obtain'd from fault
Acknowledg'd and deplor'd, in Adam wrought Commiseration: soon his heart relented Towards her, his life so late, and sole delight, Now at his feet submissive in distress; Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking, His counsel, whom she had displeas'd, his aid: As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost, And thus with peaceful words uprais'd her soon. "Unwary, and too desirous, as before,
So now of what thou know'st not, who desir'st The punishment all on thyself; alas! Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part, And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If prayers Could alter high decrees, I to that place Would speed before thee, and be louder heard, That on my head all might be visited; Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven, To me committed, and by me expos'd. But rise; let us no more contend, nor blame Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere; but strive In offices of love, how we may lighten Each other's burthen, in our share of woe; Since this day's death denounc'd, if aught I see, Will prove no sudden, but a slow pac'd, evil; A long day's dying to augment our pain And to our seed (O hapless seed !) deriv'd."
To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied. "Adam, by sad experiment I know
How little weight my words with thee can find, Found so erroneous; thence by just event Found so unfortunate: nevertheless, Restor❜d by thee, vile as I am, to place Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart Living or dying, from thee I will not hide What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen, Tending to some relief of our extremes, Or end; though sharp and sad, yet tolerable, As in our evils, and of easier choice. If care of our descent perplex us most, Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd By Death at last; and miserable it is, To be to others cause of misery, Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring Into this cursed world a woeful race, That after wretched life must be at last Food for so foul a monster; in thy power It lies, yet ere conception to prevent The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. Childless thou art, childless remain so Death Shall be deceiv'd his glut, and with us two Be forc'd to satisfy his ravenous maw. But if thou judge it hard and difficult, Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweet; And with desire to languish without hope, Before the present object languishing With like desire; which would be misery And torment less than none of what we dread : Then, both ourselves and seed at once to free From what we fear for both, let us make short, Let us seek Death;-or, he not found, supply With our own hands his office on ourselves: Why stand we longer shivering under fears, That show no end but death, and have the power, Of many ways to die the shortest choosing, Destruction with destruction to destroy?"- She ended here, or vehement despair
Broke off the rest: so much of death her thoughts
Had entertain'd, as dy'd her cheeks with pale. But Adam, with such counsel' nothing sway'd, To better hopes his more attentive mind Labouring had rais'd; and thus to Eve replied. "Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems To argue in thee something more sublime And excellent, than what thy mind contemns ; But self-destruction therefore sought, refutes That excellence thought in thee; and implies, Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret For loss of life and pleasure overlov'd. Or if thou covet death, as utmost end Of misery, so thinking to evade
The penalty pronounc'd; doubt not but God Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire, than so To be forestall'd; much more I fear lest death, So snatch'd, will not exempt us from the pain We are by doom to pay; rather, such acts Of contumacy will provoke the Highest To make death in us live: then let us seek Some safer resolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to mind with heed Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise The serpent's head; piteous amends! unless Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe, Satan; who, in the serpent, hath contriv'd Against us this deceit: to crush his head Would be revenge indeed! which will be lost By death brought on ourselves, or childless days Resolv'd, as thou proposest; so our foe Shall 'scape his punishment ordain'd, and we Instead shall double ours upon our heads. No more be mention'd then of violence Against ourselves; and wilful barrenness, That cuts us off from hope; and savours only Rancour and pride, impatience and despite, Reluctance against God and his just yoke Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild And gracious temper he both heard, and judg'd, Without wrath or reviling; we expected Immediate dissolution, which we thought Was meant by death that day; when lo! to thee Pains only in child-bearing were foretold, And bringing forth; soon recompens'd with joy, Fruit of thy womb: on me the curse aslope Glanc'd on the ground; with labour I must earn My bread; what harm? Idleness had been worse; My labour will sustain me; and, lest cold Or heat should injure us, his timely care Hath, unbesought, provided; and his hands Cloth'd us unworthy, pitying while he judg'd; How much more if we pray him, will his ear Be open, and his heart to pity incline,
And teach us further by what means to shun The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow? Which now the sky, with various face, begins To show us in this mountain; while the winds Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks Of these fair spreading trees; which bids us seek Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish Our limbs benumm'd, ere this diurnal star Leave cold the night, how we his gather'd beams Reflected may with matter sere foment; Or, by collision of two bodies, grind The air attrite to fire; as late the clouds Justling, or push'd with winds, rude in their shock, Tine the slant lightning; whose thwart flame, driven down,
Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine; And sends a comfortable heat from far
Which might supply the Sun: such fire to use, And what may else be remedy or cure To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, He will instruct us praying, and of grace Beseeching him; so as we need not fear To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd By him with many comforts, till we end In dust, our final rest and native home. What better can we do, than, to the place Repairing where he judg'd us, prostrate fall Before him reverent; and there confess Humbly our faults, and pardon beg; with tears Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek? Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn From his displeasure; in whose looks serene, When angry most he seem'd and most severe, What else but favour, grace, and mercy, shone?"
So spake our father penitent; nor Eve Felt less remorse: they, forthwith to the place Repairing where he judg'd them, prostrate fell Before him reverent; and both confess'd Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd; with tears Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.
The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first parents now repenting, and inter-" cedes for them: God accepts them, but declares that they must no longer abide in Paradise; sends Michael with a band of cherubim to dispossess them; but first to reveal to Adam future things: Michael's coming down. Adam shows to Eve. certain ominous signs; he discerns Michael's approach; goes out to meet him: the angel denounces their departure. Eve's lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits; the angel leads him up to a high hill; sets before him in vision what shall happen till the Flood.
THUS they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood Praying; for from the mercy-seat above Prevenient grace descending had remov'd The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh Regenerate grow instead; that sighs now breath'd Unutterable; which the spirit of prayer Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heaven with speedier flight Than loudest oratory: yet their port
Not of mean suitors; nor important less Seem'd their petition, than when the ancient pair In fables old, less ancient yet than these, Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore The race of mankind drown'd, before the shrine Of Themis stood devout. To Heaven their prayers Flew up, nor miss'd the way, by envious winds Blown vagabond or frustrate in they pass'd Dimensionless through heavenly doors; then clad With incense, where the golden altar fum'd, By their great Intercessor, came in sight Before the Father's throne: them the glad Son Presenting, thus to intercede began. [sprung
"See, Father, what first-fruits on Earth are From thy implanted grace in Man; these sighs H
And prayers, which in this golden censer, mix'd With incense, I thy priest before thee bring; Fruits of more pleasing savour, from thy seed Sown with contrition in his heart, than those Which, his own hand manuring, all the trees Of Paradise could have produc'd ere fall'n From innocence. Now, therefore, bend thine ear To supplication; hear his sighs, though mute; Unskilful with what words to pray, let me Interpret for him; me, his advocate And propitiation; all his works on me, Good, or not good, ingraft; my merit those Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay. Accept me; and, in me, from these receive
The smell of peace toward mankind: let him live Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days
His heart I know, how variable and vain, Self-left. Lest therefore his now bolder hand Reach also of the tree of life, and eat, And live for ever, dream at least to live For ever, to remove him I decree, And send him from the garden forth to till The ground whence he was taken, fitter soil. "Michael, this my behest have thou in charge: Take to thee from among the cherubim Thy choice of flaming warriours, lest the fiend, Or in behalf of Man, or to invade
Vacant possession, some new trouble raise; Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God Without remorse drive out the sinful pair; From hallow'd ground the unholy; and denounce To them, and to their progeny, from thence
Number'd though sad; till death, his doom, (which I Perpetual banishment. Yet, lest they faint
To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse,)
To better life shall yield him: where with me All my redeem'd may dwell in joy and bliss; Made one with me, as I with thee am one."
To whom the Father, without cloud, serene. "All thy request for Man, accepted Son, Obtain; all thy request was my decree : But, longer in that Paradise to dwell, The law I gave to Nature him forbids: Those pure immortal elements, that know No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul, Eject him, tainted now; and purge him off, As a distemper, gross, to air as gross, And mortal food; as may dispose him best For dissolution wrought by sin, that first Distemper'd all things, and of incorrupt Corrupted. I, at first, with two fair gifts Created him endow'd; with happiness, And immortality: that fondly lost, This other serv'd but to eternize woe; Till I provided death: so death becomes His final remedy: and, after life, Tried in sharp tribulation, and refin'd By faith and faithful works, to second life, Wak'd in the renovation of the just,
Resigns him up with Heaven and Earth renew'd. But let us call to synod all the blest,
Through Heaven's wide bounds: from them I will not hide
My judgments; how with mankind I proceed, As how with peccant angels late they saw, And in their state, though firm, stood more con- firm'd."
He ended, and the Son gave signal high To the bright minister that watch'd; he blew His trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps When God descended, and perhaps once more To sound at general doom. The angelic blast Fill'd all the regions: from their blissful bowers Of amarantine shade, fountain or spring, By the waters of life, where'er they sat In fellowships of joy, the sons of light Hasted, resorting to the summons high: And took their seats: till from his throne supreme The Almighty thus pronounc'd his sovran will. "O sons, like one of us Man is become To know both good and evil, since his taste Of that defended fruit; but let him boast His knowledge of good lost, and evil got; Happier! had it suffic'd him to have known Good by itself, and evil not at all.
He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite, My motions in him; longer than they move,
At the sad sentence rigorously urg'd, (For I behold them soften'd, and with tears Bewailing their excess,) all terrour hide.
If patiently thy bidding they obey, Dismiss them not disconsolate; reveal To Adam what shall come in future days, As I shall thee enlighten; intermix
My covenant in the woman's seed renew'd : So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace: And on the east side of the garden place, Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs, Cherubic watch; and of a sword the flame Wide-waving; all approach far off to fright, And guard all passage to the tree of life: Lest Paradise a receptacle prove
To spirits foul, and all my trees their prey; With whose stol`n fruit man once more to delude.” He ceas'd; and the arch-angelic power prepar'd For swift descent; with him the cohort bright Of watchful cherubim: four faces each Had, like a double Janus; all their shape Spangled with eyes more numerous than those Of Argus, and more wakeful than to drouse, Charm'd with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed · Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Meanwhile, To re-salute the world with sacred light, Leucothea wak'd; and with fresh dews embalm'd The Earth; when Adam and first matron Eve Had ended now their orisons, and found Strength added from above; new hope to spring Out of despair; joy, but with fear yet link'd; Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd. "Eve, easily may faith admit, that all
The good which we enjoy, from Heaven descends; But, that from us aught should ascend to Heaven So prevalent as to concern the mind Of God high-blest, or to incline his will, Hard to belief may seem; yet this will prayer Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne Even to the seat of God. For since I sought By prayer the offended Deity to appease ; Kneel'd, and before him humbled all my heart; Methought I saw him placable and mild, Bending his ear; persuasion in me grew That I was heard with favour; peace return'd Home to my breast, and to my memory His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe; Which, then not minded in dismay, yet now Assures me that the bitterness of death Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee, Eve rightly call'd, mother of all mankind, Mother of all things living, since by thee Man is to live; and all things live for Man."
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