This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear; Yet evil whence? In thee can harbour none, Created pure. But know, that in the soul Are many lesser faculties, that serve Reason as chief: among these Fancy next Her office holds. Of all external things Which the five watchful senses represent, She forms imaginations, aery shapes; Which Reason joining or disjoining, frames All what we' affirm or what deny, and call Our knowledge or opinion; then retires Into her private cell when Nature rests. Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes To imitate her; but misjoining shapes, Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams, Ill matching words and deeds long past or late. Some such resemblances methinks I find
Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream, But with addition strange; yet be not sad. Evil into the mind of God or Man
May come and go, so unapproved, and leave
No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream Waking thou never wilt consent to do.
Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud those looks That wont to be more cheerful and serene Than when fair morning first smiles on the world; And let us to our fresh employments rise Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers That open now their choicest bosom'd smells, Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store. So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd; ut silently a gentle tear let fall From either eye, and wiped them with her hair. Two other precious drops that ready stood, Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. So all was clear'd, and to the field they haste. But first, from under shady arborous roof Soon as they forth were come to open sight
117. God in this line means angel; the word is so applied in Fcripture sometimes; see also John x. 35. and refer to line 60.
Of day-spring, and the Sun, who scarce up risen, With wheels yet hov'ring o'er the ocean brim, Shot parallel to th' earth his dewy ray, Discovering in wide landskip all the east Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains, Lowly they bow'd, adoring, and began Their orisons, each morning duly paid In various style; for neither various style Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced or sung Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence
Flow'd from their lips, in prose or num'rous verse, More tuneable than needed lute or harp To add more sweetness; and they thus began: These are thy glorious works, Parent of Good, Almighty, thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair: thyself how wondrous then! Unspeakable, who sit'st above these Heav'ns
To us invisible, or dimly seen
In these thy lowest works: yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine. Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels; for ye behold Him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing! ye in Heav'n, On Earth join all ye Creatures to extol
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. 165 Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and soul, Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st. Moon, that now meets the orient Sun, now fly'st, 175 With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies,
153. This prayer is a close imitation of the 148th Psalm: see also the Canticle in our Liturgy taken from it.
162. Day without night, without such night as ours: as the Author afterward explains it, Book vi. 8.
172. Bentley proposed to read him Creator,' for thy greater.'
And ye five other wand'ring fires that move In mystic dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth
Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix
And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey, Till the Sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great Author rise, Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky, Or wet the thirsty earth with falling show'rs, Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines, With every plant; in sign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices all ye living Souls; ye Birds, That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep, Witness if I be silent, morn or ev'n,
To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail Universal Lord, be bounteous still
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.
So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts
197. Soul is here used as in Scripture, frequently to signify any living thing.
202. The commentators have exercised their ingenuity to explain why Milton used the singular I in this line when it would seem that both Adam and Eve were expressing themselves in the hymn. Bentley reads we, which if right, would do away with the difficulty at once. Others, among which are Newton and Dr. Pearce, think the prayer was intended to be interlocutory, which would also explain it, but I imagine that from Milton's known opinion on the subject of female nrodesty and subjection, it is easy to suppose he never intended to represent Eve as au dibly accompanying the devotious of her husband. This idea mas be strengthened by referring to 1 Cor. xiv. 34. and 1 Tim. ii. 11.
Firm peace recover'd soon, and wonted calm. On to their morning's rural work they haste, Among sweet dews and flow'rs; where any row Of fruit trees over-woody reach'd too far
Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to check Fruitless embraces; or they led the vine
To wed her elm; she spoused about him twines Her marriageable arms, and with her brings Her dow'r th' adopted clusters, to adorn
His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld With pity Heav'n's high King, and to him call'd 220 Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deign'd
To travel with Tobias, and secured
His marriage with the sev'ntimes-wedded maid.
Raphael, said he, thou hear'st what stir on Earth Satan from Hell, 'scaped thro' the darksome gulf, 225 Hath raised in Paradise, and how disturb'd This night the human pair, how he designs In them at once to ruin all mankind.
Go, therefore, half this day as friend with friend Converse with Adam, in what bow'r or shade Thou find'st him from the heat of noon retired, To respite his day-labour with repast,
Or with repose; and such discourse bring on As may advise him of his happy state, Happiness in his pow'r left free to will,
Left to his own free will, his will though free,
Yet mutable; whence warn him to beware
He swerve not too secure. Tell him withal
His danger, and from whom; what enemy,
Late fall'n himself from Heav'n, is plotting now 240 The fall of others from like state of bliss.
By violence? No, for that shall be withstood; But by deceit and lies. This let him know, Lest wilfully transgressing he pretend Surprisal, unadmonish'd, unforewarn'd.
So spake th' Eternal Father, and fulfill'd All justice: nor delay'd the winged Saint
214. Pamper'd, from pampre, overgrown with leaves. 224. See Tasso, Lib. Can. ix. st. 58, which Milton seems here to have had in view.
245. See also Tasso, Can. ix. 60. The description of the descending angel is spler did in both poets, and they may be prot compared.
After his charge received; but from among Thousand celestial Ardors, where he stood Veil'd with his gorgeous wings, up springing light 250 Flew through the midst of Heav'n; th' angelic choirs, On each hand parting, to his speed gave way Through all th' empyreal road; till at the gate Of Heav'n arrived, the gate self-open'd wide On golden hinges turning, as by work Divine the Sov'reign Architect had framed.
From hence no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, Star interposed, however small, he sees, Not unconform to other shining globes,
Earth and the gard'n of God, with cedars crown'd Above all hills. As when by night the glass
Of Galileo, less assured, observes
Imagined lands and regions in the moon : Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades Delos or Samos first appearing, kens
A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan Winnows the buxom air: till within soar Of tow'ring eagles, to all the fowls he seems A Phoenix, gazed by all, as that sole bird, When to inshrine his reliques in the Sun's Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies. At once on th' eastern cliff of Paradise He lights, and to his proper shape returns, A seraph wing'd; six wings he wore, to shade
249. Ardors, Seraphim, which has the same meaning in Hebrew.
254. So Homer makes the gates of Heaven open to the gods, Il. v. 749.
258. The word being must be understood after star.
262. Galileo first used the telescope in astronomical observations. The Cyclades, of which Delos and Samos are two, are islands in the Archipelago.
272. The Phoenix has the epithet sole applied to it, because it is said that but one exists at a time. It is described as very beautiful, and living several hundred years, at the end of which time it burns itself on a pile prepared of aromatic wood; from its ashes springs its solitary successor, which immediately flies with the remains of its predecessor to Thebes, in Egypt, where it reposits them in the temple of the Sun.
276. His proper shape, that in which he seemed to have been before.
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