Well pleas'd, but answer'd not; for now too high 626 To their fix'd station, all in bright array Ris'n from a river o'er the marish glides, 630 Homeward returning. High in front advanc'd The brandish'd sword of God before them blaz'd Fierce as a comet; which with torrid heat, And vapour as the Libyan air adust, 635 Began to parch that temp'rate clime; whereat 640 Wav'd over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms: 646 Some natural tears they dropt, but wip'd them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide : They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way. FINIS. |