PARADISE LOST.

BOOK VIII.

tam inquires concerning celestial motions; is doubtfully answer ed, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of know ledge: Adam assents: and, still desirous to detain Raphael, re lates to him what he remembered since his own creation; his placing in Paradise; his talk with God concerning solitude and fit society; his first meeting and nuptials with Eve; his dis course with the Angel thereupon: who, after admonitions repeated, departs

HE Angel ended, and in Adam's ear

> charming left his voice, that he awhile

hought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear; 'ʼn hen, as new waked, thus gratefully replied: What thanks sufficient, or what recompenso

Equal, have I to render thee, divine

5

Historian, who thus largely hast allay'd

The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsafed

This friendly condescension to relate

Things, else by me unsearchable; now heard

10

With wonder, but delight, and, as is due,

With glory attributed to the high

Creator! Something yet of doubt remains,

Which only thy solution can resolve.

When I behold this goodly frame, this world,

Of Ileaven and earth consisting; and compute
Their magnitudes; this Earth, a spot, a grain,
An atom, with the firmament compared
And all her number'd stars, that seem to roll

Spac es incomprehensible (for such

20

The distance argues, and their swift return
Diui al,) merely to officiate light

Roud this opacous Earth, this punctual spot,

One day and night; in all her vast survey
Useless besides; reasoning I oft admire
How Nature wise and frugal could commit
Such disproportions, with superfluous hand
So many nobler bodies to create,
Greater so manifold, to this one use,

25

For aught appears, and on their orbs impose
Such restless revolution day by day
Repeated; while the sedentary Earth,

30

That better might with far less compass move,
Served by more noble than herself, attains
Her end without least motion, and receives,
As tribute, such a sumless journey brought
Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light;
Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails.
So spake our sire, and by his countenance seem'd
Entering on studious thoughts abstruse; which Eve
Perceiving, where she sat retired in sight,
With lowliness majestic from her seat,

35

41

And grace that won who saw to wish her stay,
Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowers,
To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom,
Her nursery; they at her coming sprung,

45

And, touch'd by her fair tendance, gladlier grew.

Yet went she not, as not with such discourse
Delighted, or not capable her ear

Of what was high: such pleasure she reserved,

50

Adam relating, she sole auditress;

Her husband the relater she preferr'd

Before the Angel, and of him to ask

Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix

Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute

55

With conjugal caresses: from his lip

Not words alone pleased her. O! when meet now
Such pairs, in love and mutual honour join'd?

With goddess-like demeanour forth she went,

Not unattended; for on her, as Queen,
A pomp of winning Graces waited still,

60

And from about her shot darts of desire

Into ill eyes, to wish her still in sight.

And Raphael now, to Adam's doubt proposed,
Ben volent and facile thus replied:

65

To ask or search, I blame thee not; for Heaven
Is ar the book of God before thee set,
Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn
His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years:
This to attain, whether Heaven move or Earth,
Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest
Fron Man or Angel the great Architect
Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge
His secrets to be scann'd by them who ought
Rather admire; or, if they list to try
Conjecture, he his fabric of the Heavens
Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move
His laughter at their quaint opinions wide
Hereafter; when they come to model Heaven
And calculate the stars, how they will wield
The mighty frame; how build, unbuild, contrive

70

75

80

To save appearances; how gird the sphere
With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er,

Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb :

Already by thy reasoning this I guess,

85

Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest

That bodies bright and greater should not serve

The less not bright, nor Heaven such journeys run
Earth sitting still, when she alone receives
The benefit: Consider first, that great

Or bright infers not excellence: the Earth,
Though, in comparison of Heaven, so small,
Nor glistering, may of solid good contain
More plenty than the sun that barren shines;
Whose virtue on itself works no effect,
But in the fruitful Earth; there first received,
His beams, unactive else, their vigour find.
Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries
Officious; but to thee, Earth's habitant.

And for the Heaven's wide circuit, let it speak
The Maker's high magnificence, who built
So spacious, and his line stretch'd out so far;
That Man may know he dwells not in his own;
An edifice too large for him to fill,
Lodged in a small partition; and the rest
Ordain'd for uses to his Lord best known.
The swiftness of those circles áttribute,
Though numberless to his Omnipotence,
That to corporeal substances could add

100

105

Speed almost spiritual: Me thou think'st not slow, Who since the morning-hour set out from Heaven 111 Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived

In Eden; distance inexpressible

By numbers that have name. But this I urge,
Admitting motion in the Heavens, to show
Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved;
Not that I so affirm, though so it seem

115

To thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth.
God, to remove his ways from human sense,

Placed Heaven from Earth so far, that earthly sight

If it presume, might err in things too high,

121

And no advantage gain. What if the sun
Be centre to the world; and other stars,

By his attractive virtue and their own
Incited, dance about him various rounds?

125

Their wandering course now high, now low, then hid,

Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,

In six thou seest; and what if seventh to these

The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem,
Insensibly three different motions move?
Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe,
Moved contrary with thwart obliquities;
Or save the sun his labour, and that swift
Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed,
Invisible else above all stars, the wheel

130

135

Of day and night; which needs not thy belief,
If earth, industrious of herself, fetch day

Travelling east, and with her part adverse

From the sun's beam meet night, her other part
Still luminous by his ray. What if that light
Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air,
To the terrestrial moon be as a star,
Enlightening her by day, as she by night
This earth? reciprocal, if land be there,

140

Fields, and inhabitants: Her spots thou seest

145

As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce
Fruits in her soften'd soil for some to eat

Allotted there; and other suns perhaps,
With their attendant moons, thou wilt descry,

Communicating male and female light;
Which two great sexes animate the world,

150

Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live.
For such vast room in Nature unpossess'd

By living soul, desert and desolate,

Only to shine, yet scarce to cóntribute

155

Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far

Down to this habitable, which returns

Light back to them, is obvious to dispute.

But whether thus these things, or whether not;

Whether the sun, predominant in Heaven,

160

Rise on the earth; or earth rise on the sun;

He from the east his flaming road begin;
Or she from west her silent course advance,
With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps
On her soft axle, while she paces even,

165

And bears thee soft with the smooth air along;

Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid;

Leave them to God above; him serve, and fear!

Of other creatures, as him pleases best,

Wherever placed, let him dispose; joy thou

170

In what he gives to thee, this Paradise

And thy fair Eve; Heaven is for thee too high

To know what passes there; be lowly wise:

Think only what concerns thee, and thy being;

Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there 175