As I bent down to look, just opposite,
A shape within the watery gleam appear'd,
Bending to look on me: I started back,
It started back; but pleased, I soon return'd,
Pleased it return'd as soon, with answering looks
Of sympathy and love. There I had fix'd
Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire,
Had not a voice thus warn'd me; What thou seest,
What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself;
With thee it came and goes: but follow me,
And I will bring thee, where no shadow stays
Thy coming, and thy soft embraces; he
Whose image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy,
Inseparably thine; to him shalt bear
Multitudes, like thyself, and thence be call'd
Mother of human race.'-What could I do,
But follow straight, invisibly thus led?
Till I espied thee, fair indeed, and tall,
Under a platane; yet methought less fair,
Less winning soft, less amiably mild,
Than that smooth watery image: back I turn'd;
Thou following cried'st aloud, 'Return, fair Eve;
Whom fliest thou? whom thou fliest, of him thou art,
His flesh, his bone; to give thee being, I lent
Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart,
Substantial life, to have thee by my side
Henceforth, an individual solace dear:
Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim
My other half: with that thy gentle hand
Seized mine; I yielded; and from that time see,
How beauty is excell'd, by manly grace
And wisdom, which alone is truly fair.'

So spake our general mother; and with eyes Of conjugal attraction, unreproved, And meek surrender, half-embracing, lean'd On our first father; half her swelling breast Naked met his, under the flowing gold Of her loose tresses hid: he, in delight, Both of her beauty and submissive charms, Smiled with superior love, as Jupiter On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds, That shed May-flowers; and press'd her matron lip, With kisses pure. Aside the Devil turn'd For envy, yet, with jealous leer malign, Eyed them askance, and to himself thus plain'd. "Sight hateful! sight tormenting! thus these two, Imparadised in one another's arms,

The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill
Of bliss on bliss; while I to Hell am thrust,
Where neither joy, nor love, but fierce desire,
Among our other torments not the least,
Still unfulfill'd, with pain of longing, pines.
Yet let me not forget, what I have gain'd
From their own mouths: all is not theirs, it seems;
One fatal tree there stands, of knowledge call'd,
Forbidden them to taste: Knowledge forbidden?
Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord
Envy them that? Can it be sin to know?
Can it be death? And do they only stand
By ignorance? Is that their happy state,
The proof of their obedience and their faith?
O fair foundation laid, whereon to build
Their ruin. Hence, I will excite their minds,
With more desire to know, and to reject
Envious commands, invented with design.
To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt,
Equal with gods: aspiring to be such,
They taste and die: what likelier can ensue ?
But first with narrow search, I must walk round
This garden, and no corner leave unspied;
A chance, but chance may lead where I may meet
Some wandering spirit of Heaven, by fountain-side,
Or in thick shade retired, from him to draw
What further would be learn'd. Live while ye may,
Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return,
Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed."
So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd,
But with sly circumspection; and began [roam.
Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his
Meanwhile, in utmost longitude, where heaven
With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun
Slowly descended, and with right aspect,
Against the eastern gate of Paradise,
Levell❜d his evening rays: it was a rock
Of alabaster, piled up to the clouds,
Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent
Accessible from earth, one entrance high;
The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung
Still as it rose, impossible to climb.
Betwixt these rocky pillars, Gabriel sat,
Chief of the angelic guards, awaiting night;
About him, exercised heroic games

The unarm'd youth of heaven; but nigh at hand,
Celestial armory, shields, helms, and spears,

fired

Hung high, with diamond flaming, and with gold.
Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even,
On a sun-beam, swift as a shooting star
In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours
Impress the air, and shows the mariner,
From what point of his compass, to beware
Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste.

"Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath given
Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place,
No evil thing approach or enter in.
This day, at highth of noon, came to my sphere
A spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know
More of the Almighty's works, and chiefly man,
God's latest image: I described his way,
Bent all on speed, and mark'd his airy gait;
But on the mount, that lies from Eden north,
Where he first lighted, soon discern'd his looks,
Alien from Heaven, with passions foul obscured:
Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade
Lost sight of him. One of the banish'd crew,
I fear, hath ventured from the deep, to raise
New troubles; him thy care must be to find.”

To whom the winged warrior thus return'd. "Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight, Amid the sun's bright circle, where thou sitt'st, See far and wide. In at this gate none pass The vigilance here placed, but such as come Well known from heaven; and since meridian hour No creature thence: if spirit of other sort, So minded, have o'erleap'd these earthy bounds On purpose; hard thou know'st it, to exclude Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. But if within the circuit of these walks, In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom Thou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know."

So promised he; and Uriel to his charge [raised, Return'd, on that bright beam, whose point, now Bore him slope downward to the sun, now fallen Beneath the Azores; whether the prime orb, Incredible how swift, had thither roll'd Diurnal, or this less voluble earth, By shorter flight to the east, had left him there, Arraying, with reflected purple and gold The clouds, that on his western throne attend. Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied; for beast and bird,

H

[hour

They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale ;
She, all night long, her amorous descant sung;
Silence was pleased. Now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length
Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
When Adam thus to Eve. "Fair consort, the
Of night, and all things now retired 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 slumberous weight, inclines
Our eye-lids: other creatures, all day long,
Rove idle, unemploy'd, and less need rest;
Man hath his daily work of body or mind
Appointed, which declares his dignity,
And the regard of Heaven on all his ways;
While other animals inactive range,
And of their doings God takes no account.
To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east,
With first approach of light, we must be risen,
And at our pleasant labour, to reform
Yon flowery arbours, yonder alleys green,
Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown,
That mock our scant manuring, and require
More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth:
Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums,
That lie bestrown, 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 perfect beauty adorn'd.
"My author and disposer! what thou bid'st,
Unargued, I obey; so God ordains :
God is thy law, thou mine: to know no more
Is woman's happiest knowledge, and her praise.
With thee conversing, I forget all time;
All seasons, and their change, all please alike.
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 flower,
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth,
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild; then silent night,

With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train :
But neither breath of morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers;
Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night,
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon,
Or glittering star-light, without thee, is sweet.
But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom
This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?"
To whom our general ancestor replied.
"Daughter of God and man, accomplish'd Eve,
These have their course to finish, round the earth,
By morrow - evening; and from land to land,
In order, though to nations yet unborn,
Ministering light prepared, they set and rise:
Lest total darkness should, by night, regain
Her old possession, and extinguish life
In nature and all things; which these soft fires,
Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat,
Of various influence, foment and warm,
Temper or nourish; or in part shed down.
Their stellar virtue, on all kinds that grow
On earth, made hereby apter to receive
Perfection, from the sun's more potent ray.
These then, though unbeheld in deep of night,
Shine not in vain; nor think, though men were none,
That Heaven 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 ceaseless praise, his works behold
Both day and night. How often, from the steep
Of echoing hill, or thicket, have we heard
Celestial voices, to the midnight air,
Sole, or responsive each to others note,
Singing their great Creator? Oft in bands,
While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk,
With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds,
In full harmonic number join'd, their songs
Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heaven."
Thus talking, hand in hand alone, they pass'd
On to their blissful bower; it was a place
Chosen by the sovereign Planter, when he framed
All things to man's delightful use; the roof,
Of thickest covert, was inwoven shade,
Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew