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The earth, when Adam and first matron Eve Had ended now their orisons, and found Strength added from above, new hope to spring Out of despair, joy, but with fear yet link'd; Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd.

Eve, easily may faith admit, that all The good which we enjoy from heav'n descends; But that from us aught should ascend to heav'n So prevalent as to concern the mind Of God high-bless'd, or to incline His will, Hard to belief may seem ; yet this will prayer, Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne Ev'n to the seat of God. For since I sought By prayer th’ offended Deity to appease, Kneel'd and before Him humbled all my heart, Methought I saw Him placable and mild, Zending His ear: persuasion in me grew That I was heard with favour; peace return'd Home to my breast, and to my memory His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe; Which, then not minded in dismay, yet now Assures me that the bitterness of death Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee, Cve rightly call’d, mother of all mankind, (other of all things living, since by thee Man is to live, and all things live for man.

To whom thus Eve with sad demeanour meek. · Ill worthy I such title should belong To me transgressor, who, for thee ordain'd A help, became thy snare: to me reproach Rather belongs, distrust, and all dispraise : But infinite in pardon was my Judge, Chat I, who first brought death on all, am graced The source of life; next favourable thou, Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf'st, Far other name deserving. But the field To labour calls us now with sweat imposed, Though after sleepless night; for see, the morn,

1 Evc significs Life,

All unconcern'd with our unrest, begins
Her rosy progress smiling; let us forth,
I never from thy side henceforth to stray,
Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoin'd
Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell,
What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks?
Here let us live, though in fall’n state, content.

So spake, so wish'd much-humbled Eve; but fate
Subscribed not; nature first gave signs, impress'd
On bird, beast, air; air suddenly eclipsed
After short blush of morn : nigh in her sight
The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tow'r,
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove :
Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods,
First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace,
Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind;
Direct to th' eastern gate was bent their flight.
Adam observed, and, with his eye the chase
Pursuing, not unmoved to Eve thus spake.

O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh,
Which heav'n by these mute signs in nature shows
Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn
Us haply too secure of our discharge
From penalty, because from death released
Some days; how long, and what till then our life,
Who knows, or more than this, that we are dust,
And thither must return and be no more ?
Why else this double object in our sight
Of flight pursued in the air, and o'er the ground,
One way the selfsame hour? Why in the east
Darkness ere day's mid-course, and morning light
More orient in yon western cloud, that draws
V'er the blue firmament a radiant white,
And slow descends, with something heav'nly franght P

He err'd not, for by this the heav'nly bands
Down from a sky of jasper lighted now
In Paradise, and on a hill made halt,
A glorious apparition, had not doubt
And carnal fear that day dimm’d Adam's eye.
Not that more glorious, when the angels met



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Jacob in Mahanaim,' where he saw
l'he field pavilion'd with his guardians bright;
Nor that which on the flaming mount appear’d
In Dothan, cover'd with a camp of fire,?
Against the Syrian king, who to surprise
One man assassin-like had levy'd war,
War unproclaim'd. The princely hierarch
In their bright stand there left his powers to seize
Possession of the garden; he alone,
To find where Adam shelter'd, took his way,
Not unperceived of Adam, who to Eve,
While the great visitant approach'd, thus spake.

Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps
Of us will soon determine, or impose
New laws to be observed; for I descry
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill
One of the heav'nly host, and by his gait
None of the meanest : some great potentate,
Or of the thrones above, such majesty
Invests him coming; yet not terrible,
That I should fear, nor sociably mild,
As Raphael, that I should much confide;
But solemn and sublime, whom not to offend
With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.

He ended; and th' archangel soon drew nigh, Not in his shape celestial, but as man Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms A military vest of purple flow'd, Livelier than Melibman, or the grain Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old In time of truce; Iris 4 had dipp'd the woof; His starry helm unbuckled show'd him prime In manhood where youth ended; by his side As in a glistering zodiac hung the sword,



1 Gen. xxxii. 1, 2. 2 Alluding to the King of Syria's attempt to take the prophet Elisha captive, and to the vision the prophet vouchsafed to obtain for his servant of the angel-guards which defended him. 2 Kings vi, 17.

3 Melibea, & city of Thessaly, was famous for dyeing the noblest purple. Sarra, the dye of Tyre.- HUME. Sar was the name of the fish from which the Tyrian purple dye was extracted.

4 The rainbow hues are meant.

Satan's dire dread, and in his hand the spear | Adam bow'd low, he kingly from his state Inclined not, but his coming thus declared.

Adam, heav'n's high behest no preface needs. Sufficient that thy prayers are heard, and death, Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress, Defeated of his seizure many days Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou may’st repent, And one bad act with many deeds well done May'st cover: well may then thy Lord appeased Redeem thee quite from death's rapacious claim; But longer in this Paradise to dwell Permits not: to remove thee I am come, And send thee from the garden forth to till The ground whence thou wast taken, fitter soil.

He added not, for Adam at the news Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood, That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen Yet all had heard, with audible lament Discover'd soon the place of her retire.

O unexpected stroke, worse than of death! Must I thus leave thee, paradise ? thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, Fit haunt of Gods ? where I had hope to spend, Quiet though sad, the respite of that day That must be mortal to us both. O flow’rs, That never will in other climate grow, My early visitation, and my last At ev'n, which I bred up with tender hand From the first op'ning bud, and gave ye námės, Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank Your tribes, and water from th' ambrosial fount? Thee lastly, nuptial bow'r! by me adorn'd With what to sight or smell was sweet'; from thee How shall I part, and whither wander down Into a lower world, to this obscure And wild ? how shall we breathe in other air Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits ?

Whom thus the angel interrupted mild. Lament not, Eve, but patiently resign

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What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart,
Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine :
Thy going is not lonely, with thee goes
Thy husband, him to follow thou art bound;
Where he abides, think there thy native soil.

Adam, by this from the cold sudden damp
Recovering, and his scatter'd spirits return'd,
To Michael thus his humble words address'd.

Celestial, whether among the thrones, or named
Of them the highest, for such of shape may seem
Prince above princes, gently hast thou told
Thy message, which might else in telling wound,
And in performing end us; what besides
Of sorrow, and dejection, and despair,
Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring;
Departure from this happy place, our sweet
Recess, and only consolation left
Familiar to our eyes, all places else
Inhospitable appear and desolate,
Nor knowing us nor known; and if by prayer
Incessant I could hope to change the will
Of Him who all things cani, I would not cease
To weary him with my assiduous cries.
Bat prayer against His absolute decree
No more avails than breath against the wind,
Blown stilling back on him that breathes it forth :
Therefore to His great bidding I submit.
This most afflicts me, that departing hence
As from His face I shall be hid, deprived
His blessed count'nance; here I could frequent,
With worship, place by place, where he vouchsafed
Presence divine, and to my sons relate,
On this mount he appear'd, under this tree
Stood visible, among these pines His voice
I heard, here with Him at this fountain talk'd:
So many grateful altars I would rear I
Of grassy turf, and pile up every stone
Of lustre from the brook, in memory,
Or manument to ages, and thereon
Offer sweet-smelling gums, and fruits, and flow'rs:


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