On what thou haft of virtue, fummon all,
For God towr'ds thee hath done his part, do thine.

§ 69. God's Sentence in Paradife.

-FROM his radiant feat he rofe

Of high collateral glory: him thrones and pow'rs,
Princedoms, and dominations miniftrant
Accompanied to heaven-gate, from whence
Eden and all the coaft in profpect lay.
Down he defcended straight: the speed of Gods
Time counts not, though with fwifteft minutes
wing'd.

Now was the fun in western cadence low
From noon, and gentle airs due at their hour
To fan the earth now wak'd, and ufher in
The evening cool; when he, from wrath more cool,
Came, the mild judge and interceffor both,
To fentence man. The voice of God they heard,
Now walking in the garden, by soft winds
Brought to their ears, while day declin'd; they
heard,

And from his prefence hid themselves among
The thickest trees, both man and wife, till God
Approaching, thus to Adam call'd aloud :

Where art thou, Adam, wont with joy to meet
My coming feen far off? I mifs thee here,
Not pleas'd, thus entertain'd with folitude,
Where obvious duty erewhile appear'd unfought:
Or come I lefs confpicuous, or what change
Abfents thee, or what chance detains? Come forth.
He came, and with him Eve, more loath, though
first

T'offend; difcount'nanc'd both, and difcompos'd:
Love was not in their looks, either to God
Or to each other; but apparent guilt,
And fhame, and perturbation, and despair,
Anger, and obftinacy, and hate, and guile.
Whence Adam falt'ring long, thus anfwer'd brief:
I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice
Afraid, being naked, hid myself. To whom
The gracious Judge without revile replied:
My voice thou oft haft heard, and haft not fear'd,
But ftill rejoic'd; how is it now become

So dreadful to thee? that thou art naked who
Hath told thee? haft thou eaten of the tree
Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldft not eat?
To whom thus Adam fore befet replied:
O Heaven! in evil ftrait this day I ftand
Before my Judge, either to undergo
Myfelf the total crime, or to accufe
My other felf, the partner of my life;
Whole failing, while her faith to me remains,
I should conceal, and not expofe to blame
By my complaint: but ftrict neceflity
Subdues me, and calamitous constraint,
Left on my head both fin and punishment,
However infupportable, be all'

Devolv'd; though thould I hold my peace, yet thou
Wouldft eafily detect what I conceal.
This woman, whom thou mad ft to be my help,
And gav'ft me as thy perfect gift, fo good,
So fit, fo acceptable, fo divine,

That from her hand I could fufpéct no ill;
And what fhe did, whatever in itself,
Her doing feem'd to justify the deed;
She gave me of the tree, and I did eat.

To whom the Sov'ran Prefence thus replied: Was the thy God, that her thou didst obey Before his voice or was fhe made thy guide, Superior, or but equal, that to her

Thou didst refign thy manhood, and the place
Wherein God fet thee above her, made of thee
And for thee, whofe perfection far excell'd
Hers in all real dignity? Adorn'd
She was indeed, and lovely to aftract
Thy love, not thy fubjection; and her gifts
Were fuch as under government well feem'd,
Unfeemly to bear rule: which was thy part
And perfon, hadft thou known thyself aright.

So having faid, he thus to Eve in few:
Say, woman, what is this which thou haft done?
To whom fad Eve with fhame nigh overwhelm'd,
Confeffing foon, yet not before her Judge
Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd replied:
The ferpent me beguil'd, and I did eat.

Which when the Lord God heard, without delay
To judgment he proceeded on th' accus'd
Serpent, though brute, unable to transfer
The guilt on him who made him inftrument
Of mifchief, and polluted from the end
Of his creation; justly then accurs'd,
As vitiated in nature: more to know
Concern'd not man (fince he no further knew),
Nor alter'd his offence; yet God at last
To Satan firft in fin his doom applied,
Though in myfterious terms, judg'd as then beft,
And on the ferpent thus his curfe let fall :
Becaufe thou haft done this, thou art accurs'd
Above all cattle, each beaft of the field;
Upon thy belly grovelling thou fhalt go,
And duft thalt eat all the days of thy life.
Between thee and the woman I will put
Enmity, and between thine and her feed;
Her feed fhall bruife thy head, thou bruise his heel,
So fpake this oracle, then verified
When Jefus fon of Mary, fecond Eve,
Saw Satan fall like lightning down from heaven,
Prince of the air; then rifing from his grave
Spoil'd principalities and pow'rs, triumph'd
In open fhow, and with afcenfion bright
Captivity led captive through the air,
The realm itself of Satan long ufurp'd:
Whom he fhall tread at laft under our feet;
Even he who now foretold his fatal bruife,
And to the woman thus his fentence turn'd.

Thy forrow I will greatly multiply
By thy conception; children thou shalt bring
In forrow forth; and to thy husband's will
Thine fhall fubmit; he over thee fhall rule.

On Adam last thus judgment he pronounc'd : Because thou haft hearken'd to th'voice of thy wife,

And eaten of the tree concerning which

I charg'd thee, faying, Thou shalt not eat thereof: Curs'd is the ground for thy fake: thou in forrow Shalt cat thereof all the days of thy life;

And what thou fear'ft, alike deftroys all hope
Of refuge, and concludes thee miferable
Beyond all paft example and futúre,
To Satan only like both crime and doom.
O confcience, into what abyfs of fears
And horrors haft thou driven me, out of which
I find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd!

71. Chrift interceding with his Father for Adam, and the Almighty's Reply. SEE, Father, what firft fruits on earth are fprung From thy implanted grace in man, thefe fighs And pray'rs, which in this golden cenfer mix'd With incenfe, I thy prieft before thee bring; Fruits of more pleafing favour, from thy feed Sown with contrition in his heart, than thofe Which his own hand manuring all the trees Of Paradife could have produc'd, ere fall'n From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear To fupplication; hear his fighs though mute; Unfkilful with what words to pray, let me Interpret for him, me his advocate And propitiation; all his works on me, Good or not good, ingraft; my merit thofe Shall perfect; and for thefe my death fhall pay. Accept me, and in me from these receive The fimell of peace tow'rd mankind; let him live Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days Number'd, tho' fad, till death, his doom (which I To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse), To better life fhall yield him, where with me All my redeem'd may dwell in joy and blifs, Made one with me, as I with thee am one.

To whom the Father, without cloud, ferene: All thy request for man, accepted Son, Obtain; all thy request was my decree. But longer in that Paradife to dwell, The law I gave to nature him forbids: Thofe pure immortal elements, that know No grofs, no unharmonious mixture foul, Eject him tainted now, and purge him off As a diftemper, grofs to air as grofs, And mortal food, as may difpofe him beft For diffolution wrought by fin, that first Diftemper'd all things, and of incorrupt Corrupted. I at firft, with two fair gifts Created him endow'd, with happinets And immortality: that fondly loft, This other ferv'd but to eternize woe, Till I provided death; fo death becomes His final remedy, and after life Tried in fharp tribulation, and refin'd By faith and faithful works, to second life, Wak'd in the renovation of the juft, Refigns him up with heaven and earth renew'd.

Find out fome uncouth cell,

Where brooding darknefs fpreads his jealous
And the night-raven fings;
[wings,
There under cbon shades,and low-brow'd rocks,
As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell.
But come, thou Goddefs fair and free,
In Heaven yclep'd Euphrofyne, .
And by men heart-caling Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth,.
With two fifter Graces more,

To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as fome fages fing)
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,
Zephyr, with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a Maying,
There on beds of violets blue,

And fresh-blown rofes wafh'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee, a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair;
Hafte thee, nymph, and bring with thee
Jeft and youthful jollity,

Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks, and wreathed fimiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,.
And love to live in dimple fleck;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his fides;
Come, and trip it as you go
On the light fantastic toe,

And in thy right hand lead with thee,
The mountain nymph, fweet Liberty;
And if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleafures free;
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And finging startle the dull night,
From his watch-tow'r in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rife;
Then to come in spite of forrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Through the fweet-briar, or the vine,
Or the twifted eglantine:
While the cock with lively din
Scatters the rear of darknefs thin,
And to the ftack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly ftruts his dames before:
Oft lift'ning how the hounds and horn
Chearly roufe the flumb'ring morn,
From the fide of fome hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing fhrill:
Some time walking not unfeen,
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the caftern gate,
Where the great fun begins his state,
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thoufand liveries dight:
While the ploughman near at hand
Whiftles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milk-maid fingeth blithe,
And the mower whets his fithe,
And ev'ry thepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilft the landskip round it measures;
Ruffet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do ftray,
Mountains, on whofe barren breaft
The lab'ring clouds do often reft,
Meadows trim with daifies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide,
Tow'rs and battlements it fees
Bofom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps fome beauty lies,
The Cynofure of neighb'ring eyes,
Hard by, a cottage chimney fmokes
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrfis met,
Are at their favoury dinner fet

Of herbs, and other country meffes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dreffes;
And then in hafte her bow'r fhe leaves,
With Theftylis to bind the fheaves;
Or if the earlier feafon lead

To the tann'd hay-cock in the mead.
Sometimes with fecure delight
The upland hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecs found

To many a youth and many a maid,
Dancing in the chequer'd fhade;
And young and old come forth to play
'On a funfhine holy-day,

Till the live-long day-light fail;
Then to the fpicy nut-brown ale,
With ftories told of many a feat,
How fairy Mab the junkets eat;
She was pincht and pull'd, the faid,
And by the frier's lanthorn led;
Tells how the drudging goblin sweat,
To earn his cream-bowl duly fet,
When in one night, ere glimpfe of morn,
His fhadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn,
That ten day-lab rers could not end;
Then lies him down the lubbar fiend,
And stretch'd out all the chimney's length,
Bafks at the fire his hairy ftrength;
And crop-full out of doors he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whifp ring winds foon lull'd asleep.
Tow'red cities pleafe us then,
And the bufy hum of men,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold
In weeds of peace high triumphs hold,
With ftore of ladies, whofe bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
Of wit, or arms, while both contend
To win her grace whom all commend,
There let Hymen oft appear
In faffron robe, with taper clear,
And pomp, and feaft, and revelry,
With mark, and antique pageantry;
Such fights as youthful poets dream
On fummer eves by haunted stream.
Then to the well-trod ftage anon,
If Jonfon's learned fock be on,

Or fweeteft Shakspeare, fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.
And ever againft eating cares,
Lap me in foft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verfe,
Such as the meeting foul may pierce,
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out,
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running;
Untwisting all the chains that tie
The hidden foul of harmony;
That Orpheus' felf may heave his head
From golden flumber on a bed
Of heap'd Elyfian flow'rs, and hear
Such ftrains as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite set free
His half-regain'd Eurydice,
Thefe delights if thou canft give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live.

༡

§ 73. IL PENSEROSO.

HENCE, vain deluding joys,

MILTON,

The brood of folly, without father bred, How little you bested,

Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys! Dwell in fome idle brain,

And fancies fond with gaudy fhapes poffefs,

As thick and numberless

As the gay motes that people the fun-beams, Or likeft hovering dreams,

The fickle penfioners of Morpheus' train,
But hail, thou Goddefs fage and holy!
Hail, divineft Melancholy!

Whofe faintly vifage is too bright
To hit the fenfe of human fight;
And therefore to our weaker view
O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue;
Black, but fuch as in efteem

Prince Memnon's fifter might befeem;
Or that ftarr'd Ethiop queen that strove
To fet her beauty's praise above

The Sea-Nymphs, and their pow'rs offended;
Yet thou art higher far defcended:
Thee bright-hair'd Vefta long of yore
To folitary Saturn bore;

His daughter fhe (in Saturn's reign,
Such mixture was not held a stain).
Oft in glimmering bow'rs and glades
He met her, and in fecret fhades
Of woody Ida's inmost grove,
While yet there was no fear of Jove.
Come, penfive Nun, devout and pure
Sober, fteadfast, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestic train,
And fable ftole of Cyprus lawn,
Over thy decent fhoulders drawn.
Come, but keep thy wonted ftate,
With even ftep, and mufing gait,
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt foul fitting in thinc eyes;

There