Young Bacchus, from his stepdame Rhea's eye; Nor where Abassin kings their issue guard, Mount Amara, though this by some supposed True Paradise under the Ethiop line
By Nilus' head, enclosed with shining rock, A whole day's journey high, but wide remote From this Assyrian garden; where the Fiend Saw, undelighted, all delight, all kind
Of living creatures, new to sight, and strange. Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall, Godlike erect, with native honour clad In naked majesty, seem'd lords of all : And worthy seem'd; for in their looks divine The image of their glorious Maker shone, Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure (Severe, but in true filial freedom placed,) Whence true authority in men; though both Not equal, as their sex not equal seem'd; For contemplation he and valour form'd; For softness she and sweet attractive grace; He for God only, she for God in him: His fair large front and eye sublime declared Absolute rule; and hyacinthine locks
Round from his parted forelock manly hung
Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad:
She, as a veil, down to the slender waist
Her unadorned golden tresses wore
Dishevel'd, but in wanton ringlets waved As the vine curls her tendrils, which implied Subjection, but required with gentle sway, And by her yielded, by him best received; Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay.
Nor those mysterious parts were then conceal'd ; Then was not guilty shame, dishonest shame Of nature's works, honour dishonourable,
Sin-bred how have ye troubled all mankind With shows instead, mere shows of seeming pure,
And banish'd from man's life his happiest life, Simplicity and spotless innocence!
So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight Of God or Angel; for they thought no ill :
So hand in hand they pass'd, the lovliest pair, That ever since in love's embraces met; Adam the goodliest man of men since born His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve. Under a tuft of shade that on a green Stood whispering soft, by a fresh fountain side They sat them down; and, after no more toil Of their sweet gardening labour than sufficed To recommend cool Zephyr, and made ease More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite More grateful, to their supper fruits they fell; Nectarine fruits which the compliant boughs Yielded them, sidelong as they sat recline "On the soft downy bank damask'd with flowers: The savoury pulp they chew, and in the rind, Still as they thirsted, scoop the brimming stream ; Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles Wanted, nor youthful dalliance, as beseems Fair couple, link'd in happy nuptial league, Alone as they. About them frisking play'd All beasts of the earth, since wild, and of all chase In wood or wilderness, forest or den;
Sporting the lion ramp'd, and in his paw,' Dandled the kid; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, Gambol'd before them; the unwieldy elephant.
To make them mirth, used all his might, and wreath'd His lithe proboscis; close the serpent sly, Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine His braided train, and of his fatal guile Gave proof unheeded; others on the grass Couch'd, and now fill'd with pasture gazing sat, Or bedward ruminating; for the sun, Declined, was hasting now with prone career To the ocean isles, and in the ascending scale
Of Heaven the stars that usher evening rose : When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood, Scarce thus at length fail'd speech recover'd sad: O Hell! what do mine eyes with grief behold! Into our room of bliss thus high advanced Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps, Not Spirits, yet to heavenly Spirits bright Little inferior: whom my thoughts pursue With wonder, and could love, so lively shines In them divine resemblance, and such grace
The hand that form'd them on their shape hath pour'd. Ah! gentle pair, ye little think how nigh
Your change approaches, when all these delights
Will vanish, and deliver ye to woe;
More woe, the more you taste is now of joy;
Happy, but for so happy ill secured
Long to continue, and this high seat your Heaven
Ill fenced for Heaven to keep out such a foe
As now is enter'd; yet no purposed foe
you, whom I could pity thus forlorn, Though I unpitied: League with you I seek, And mutual amity, so straight, so close, That I with you must dwell, or you with me Henceforth my dwelling haply may not please, Like this fair Paradise, your sense; yet such Accept your Maker's work; he gave
Which I as freely give: Hell shall unfold,
To entertain you two, her widest gates,
And send forth all her kings; there will be room,
Not like these narrow limits, to conceive
Your numerous offspring; if no better place,
Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge
On you who wrong me not for him who wrong'd. And should I at your harmless innocence Melt, as I do, yet public reason just,
Honour and empire with revenge enlarged,
By conquering this new world, compel me now To do what else, though damn'd, I should abhor.
So spake the Fiend, and with necessity, The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds. Then from his lofty stand on that high tree Down he alights among the sportful herd Of those four-footed kinds, himself now one, Now other, as their shape served best his end Nearer to view his prey, and, unespied,
To mark what of their state he more might learn, 400 By word or action mark'd: About them round
A lion now he stalks with fiery glare; Then as a tiger, who by chance hath spied In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play,
Straight couches close, then, rising, changes oft 405 His couchant watch, as one chose his ground, Whence rushing, he might surest seize them both, Griped in each paw: when Adam, first of men, To first of women, Eve, thus moving speech, Turn'd him, all ear to hear new utterance flow: Sole partner and sole part of all these joys, Dearer thyself than all; needs must the Power That made us, and for us this ample world,
Be infinitely good, and of his good
As liberal and free as infinite;
That raised us from the dust, and placed us here
In all this happiness, who at his hand
Have nothing merited, nor can perform
Aught whereof he hath need; he who requires From us no other service than to keep
This one, this easy charge, of all the trees In Paradise that bear delicious fruit
So various, not to taste that only tree
Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life:
So near grows death to life, whate'er death is,
Some dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou know'st
God hath pronounced it death to taste that tree,
The only sign of our obedience left,
Among so many signs of power and rule
Conferr'd upon us, and dominion given
Over all other creatures that possess
Then let us not think hard
One easy prohibition, who enjoy
Free leave so large to all things else, and choice Unlimited of manifold delights:
But let us ever praise him, and extol
His bounty, following our delightful task,
To prune these growing plants and tend these flowers, Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.
To whom thus Eve replied: O thou for whom 440 And from whom I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh, And without whom am to no end, my guide And head! what thou hast said is just and right. For we to him indeed all praises owe And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy So for the happier lot, enjoying thee Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou Like consort to thyself canst no where find. That day I oft remember, when from sleep I first awaked, and found myself reposed Under a slide on flowers, much wondering where And what I was, whence thither brought and how. Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound Of waters issued from a cave, and spread Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved Pure as the expanse of Heaven; I thither went
With unexperienced thought, and laid me down On the green bank, to look into the clear Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky. 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 secst, What there thou seest, fair Creature, is thyself;
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