Whate'er I saw.

'Thou Sun,' said I, 'fair light, And thou enlighten'd Earth, so fresh and gay, Ye hills, and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here? Not of myself; by some great Maker then, In goodness and in power pre-eminent; Tell me how I may know him, how adore, From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier than I know.' While thus I call'd, & stray'd, I knew not whither, From where I first drew air, and first beheld This happy light, when answer none return'd, On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers, Pensive I sat me down; there gentle sleep First found me, and with soft oppression seized My drowsed sense, untroubled, though I thought I then was passing to my former state, Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve; When suddenly stood at my head a dream. Whose inward apparition gently moved My fancy, to believe I yet had being, And lived. One came, methought, of shape divine, And said, 'Thy mansion wants thee, Adam; rise, First man, of men innumerable ordain'd First father; call'd by thee, I come, thy guide To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepared.' So saying, by the hand he took me, raised, And over fields and waters, as in air, Smooth sliding, without step, last led me up A woody mountain, whose high top was plain, A circuit wide, enclosed, with goodliest trees Planted, with walks, and bowers; that what I saw Of earth before scarce pleasant seem'd. Each tree Loaden with fairest fruit, that hung to the eye Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite To pluck and eat: whereat I wak'd, & found Before mine eyes all real, as the dream Had lively shadow'd. Here had new begun My wandering, had not he, who was my guide Up hither, from among the trees appear'd, Presence divine. Rejoicing, but with awe, In adoration at his feet I fell, [I am,' Submiss he rear'd me &,' whom thou sought'st Said mildly; 'Author of all this thou seest, Above, or round about thee, or beneath. This Paradise I give thee, count it thine,

To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat:
Of every tree, that in the garden grows,
Eat freely, with glad heart; fear here no dearth
But of the tree, whose operation brings
Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set,
The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith,
Amid the garden, by the tree of life,
Remember what I warn thee; shun to taste,
And shun the bitter consequence: for know,
The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command
Transgress'd, inevitably thou shalt die,
From that day mortal, and this happy state
Shalt lose, expell'd from hence, into a world
Of wo and sorrow.' Sternly he pronounced
The rigid interdiction, which resounds
Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice
Not to incur; but soon his clear aspect
Return'd, and gracious purpose thus renew'd.
'Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth,
To thee and to thy race, I give; as lords
Possess it, and all things that therein live,
Or live in sea, or air, beast, fish, and fowl.
In sign whereof, each bird and beast behold,
After their kinds; I bring them to receive
From thee their names, and pay thee fealty,
With low subjection; understand the same
Of fish, within their watery residence.
Not hither summon'd, since they cannot change
Their element to draw the thinner air.'
As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold,
Approaching two and two; these cowering low,
With blandishment, each bird stoop'd on his wing.
I named them, as they pass'd, and understood
Their nature; with such knowledge God endued
My sudden apprehension: but, in these,
I found not what methought I wanted still;
And to the Heavenly Vision thus presumed :
'O by what name, for thou, above all these,
Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher,
Surpassest far my naming, how may I
Adore thee, Author of this universe,
And all this good to man? for whose well being,
So amply, and with hands so liberal,
Thou hast provided all things; but with me
I see not who partakes. In solitude,
What happiness, who can enjoy alone;
Or, all enjoying, what contentment find?'

Thus I, presumptuous; and the vision bright,
As with a smile more brighten'd, thus replied.
"What call'st thou solitude? is not the earth
With various living creatures, and the air
Replenish'd, and all these, at thy command,
To come & play before thee? know'st thou not
Their language, and their ways? they also know,
And reason not contemptibly; with these
Find pastime, and bear rule; thy realm is large.'
So spake the universal Lord, and seem'd
So ordering; I, with leave of speech implored
And humble deprecation, thus replied:

"Let not my words offend thee, heavenly Power,
My Maker, be propitious while I speak.
Hast thou not made me here thy substitute,
And these inferior far beneath me set?
Among unequals, what society

Can sort, what harmony, or true delight?
Which must be mutual, in proportion due
Given, and received; but in disparity,
The one intense, the other still remiss,
Cannot well suit with either, but soon prove
Tedious alike. Of fellowship I speak,
Such as I seek, fit to participate
All rational delight, wherein the brute
Cannot be human consort: they rejoice
Each with their kind, lion and lioness;
So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined;
Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl,
So well converse, nor with the ox the ape:
Worse then can man with beast, & least of all.'
Whereto the Almighty answer'd, not displeas'd.
"A nice and subtle happiness, I see,
Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice
Of thy associates, Adam, and wilt taste
No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary.
What think'st thou then of me, & this my state?
Seem I to thee sufficiently possess'd
Of happiness, or not? who am alone,
From all eternity; for none I know
Second to me, or like, equal much less.
How have I then with whom to hold converse,
Save with the creatures which I made, & those
To me inferior, infinite descents
Beneath what other creatures are to thee?"

666

"He ceased, I lowly answer'd. To attain The height and depth of thy eternal ways,

N

All human thoughts come short, Supreme of things;
Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thee
Is no deficience found; not so is Man,
But in degree, the cause of his desire,
By conversation with his like, to help
Or solace his defects. No need that thou
Shouldst propagate, already infinite,
And through all numbers absolute, though one;
But Man by number is to manifest
His single imperfection, and beget
Like of his like, his image multiplied,
In unity defective; which requires
Collateral love, and dearest amity.
Thou in thy secresy, although alone,
Best with thyself accompanied, seek'st not
Social communication; yet, so pleased,
Canst raise thy creature to what height thou wilt
Of union or communion, deify'd;

I, by conversing, cannot these erect

From prone, nor in their ways complacence find.' Thus I embolden'd spake, and freedom used, Permissive, and acceptance found; which gain'd This answer from the gracious voice divine:

"Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased,
And find thee knowing, not of beasts alone,
Which thou hast rightly named, but of thyself,
Expressing well the spirit within thee, free,
My image, not imparted to the brute,

Whose fellowship, therefore unmeet for thee,
Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike;
And be so minded still: I, ere thou spak'st,
Knew it not good for Man to be alone,
And no such company, as then thou saw'st
Intended thee; for trial only brought,
To see how thou couldst judge of fit & meet.
What next I bring, shall please thee, be assur'd;
Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self,
Thy wish, exactly to thy heart's desire.'

"He ended, or I heard no more; for now
My earthly, by his heavenly overpower'd,
Which it had long stood under, strain❜d to the height,
In that celestial colloquy sublime,

As with an object that excels the sense,
Dazzled and spent, sunk down, and sought repair
Of sleep; which instantly fell on me, call'd
By nature as in aid, and closed mine eyes.
Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell

Of fancy, my internal sight; by which
Abstract as in a trance, methought I saw,
Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape
Still glorious before whom awake I stood:
Who stooping, open'd my left side, and took
From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm,
And life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound,
But suddenly with flesh fill'd up, and heal'd:
The rib he form'd and fashion'd with his hands ;
Under his forming hands a creature grew,
Manlike, but different sex; so lovely fair,
That what seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd now
Mean, or in her summ'd up, in her contain❜d,
And in her looks, which from that time infused
Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before,
And into all things, from her air inspired
The spirit of love, and amorous delight.
She disappear'd, and left me dark; I waked
To find her, or for ever to deplore

Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure:
When out of hope, behold her, not far off,
Such as I saw her in my dream, adorn'd
With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow,
To make her amiable. On she came,
Led by her heavenly Maker, though unseen,
And guided by his voice; nor uninform'd
Of nuptial sanctity, and marriage rites;
Grace was in all her steps, Heaven in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love.

I overjoy'd, could not forbear aloud.

666

"This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfill'd Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign! Giver of all things fair, but fairest this Of all thy gifts, nor enviest. I now see Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself Before me; Woman is her name, of Man Extracted for this cause he shall forego Father and mother, and to his wife adhere; And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul.' "She heard me thus; & though divinely brought, Yet innocence, and virgin modesty, Her virtue, and the conscience of her worth, That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won; Not obvious, not obstrusive, but retired, The more desirable, or, to say all, Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought, Wrought in her so, that, seeing me, she turn'd;