Each in their kind. The Earth obey'd, and straight, Opening her fertile womb teem'd at a birth Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms, Limb'd and full-grown: Out of the ground uprose, As from his lair, the wild beast where he wons In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den; Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walk'd: The cattle in the fields and meadows green: Those rare and solitary, these in flocks Pasturing at once, and in broad herds upsprung. The grassy clods now calv'd; now half appear'd The tawny lion, pawing to get free
His hinder parts, then springs as broke from bonds, And rampant shakes his brinded mane; the ounce, The libbard, and the tiger, as the mole
Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw In hillocks: The swift stag from under ground Bore up his branching head: Scarce from his mould Behemoth,1 biggest born of earth, upheav'd His vastness: Fleec'd the flocks and bleating rose, As plants: Ambiguous between sea and land, The river-horse, and scaly crocodile.
At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, Insect or worm: those wav'd their limber fans For wings, and smallest lineaments exact In all the liveries deck'd of summer's pride, With spots of gold and purple, azure and green: These as a line their long dimension drew, Streaking the ground with sinuous trace; not all Minims2 of nature; some of serpent kind, Wonderous in length and corpulence, involv'd Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept
Behemoth: Milton means the elephant.2 Minims,' i. e., smallest productions.
The parsimonious emmet, provident
Of future; in small room large heart enclos'd; Pattern of just equality perhaps,
Hereafter, join'd in her popular tribes
Of commonalty. Swarming next appear'd
The female bee, that feeds her husband drone Deliciously, and builds her waxen cells
With honey stor'd; The rest are numberless,
And thou their natures know'st, and gav'st them names, Needless to thee repeated; nor unknown The serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes And hairy mane terrifick, though to thee Not noxious, but obedient at thy call.
Now heaven in all her glory shone, and roll'd Her motions as the Great first Mover's hand
First wheel'd their course: Earth in her rich attire Consummate lovely smil'd; air, water, earth, By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walk'd Frequent; and of the sixth day yet remain'd: There wanted yet the master-work, the end Of all yet done; a creature who, not prone And brute as other creatures, but endued With sanctity of reason, might erect His stature, and upright with front serene Govern the rest, self-knowing; and from thence Magnanimous to correspond with Heaven, But grateful to acknowledge whence his good Descends, thither with heart, and voice, and eyes Directed in devotion, to adore
And worship God Supreme, who made him chief Of all his works: therefore the Omnipotent Eternal Father (for where is not He Present?) thus to his Son audibly spake.
Let us make now Man in our image, Man In our similitude, and let them rule
Over the fish and fowl of sea and air,
Beast of the field, and over all the Earth,
And every creeping thing that creeps the ground. This said, he form'd thee, Adam, thee, O man, Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breath'd The breath of life; in his own image he Created thee, in the image of God Express; and thou becam'st a living soul. Male he created thee; but thy consórt
Female, for race; then bless'd mankind, and said, Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the Earth; Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold Over fish of the sea, and fowl of the air,
And every living thing that moves on the Earth. Wherever thus created, for no place
Is yet distinct by name, thence, as thou know'st, He brought thee into this delicious grove, This garden planted with the trees of God, Delectable both to behold and taste;
And freely all their pleasant fruit for food
Gave thee; all sorts are here that all the Earth yields, Variety without end; but of the tree
Which, tasted, works knowledge of good and evil,
Thou may'st not; in the day thou eat'st, thou diest; Death is the penalty impos'd; beware,
And govern well thy appetite; lest Sin
Surprise thee, and her black attendant Death. Here finish'd he, and all that he had made View'd, and behold all was entirely good; So even and morn accomplish'd the sixth day: Yet not till the Creator, from his work Desisting, though unwearied, up return'd,
Up to the Heaven of Heavens, his high abode; Thence to behold this new-created world, The addition of his empire, how it show'd In prospect from his throne, how good, how fair, Answering his great idea. Up he rode Follow'd with acclamation, and the sound Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that tuned Angelick harmonies: The earth, the air Resounded, (thou remember'st, for thou heard'st,) The heavens and all the constellations rung, The planets in their station listening stood, While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. Open, ye everlasting gates! they sung, Open, ye Heavens! your living doors; let in The great Creator from his work return'd Magnificent, his six days' work, a World; Open, and henceforth oft; for God will deign To visit oft the dwellings of just men, Delighted; and with frequent intercourse Thither will send his winged messengers On errands of supernal grace. So sung The glorious train ascending: He through Heaven, That open'd wide her blazing portals, led To God's eternal house direct the way;
A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear, Seen in the galaxy, that milky way,
Which nightly, as a circling zone, thou seest
Powder'd with stars. And now on Earth the seventh
Evening arose in Eden, for the sun
Was set, and twilight from the east came on, Forerunning night; when at the holy mount Of Heaven's high-seated top, the imperial throne Of Godhead, fix'd for ever firm and sure,
The Filial Power arrived, and sat him down With his Great Father; for he also went Invisible, yet staid, (such privilege
Hath Omnipresence) and the work ordain'd, Author and End of all things; and, from work Now resting, bless'd and hallow'd the seventh day, As resting on that day from all his work; But not in silence holy kept: the harp Had work, and rested not; the solemn pipe And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, Temper'd soft tunings, intermix'd with voice Choral or unison: of incense clouds,
Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount. Creation and the six days' acts they sung: Great are thy works, Jehovah! infinite
Thy power! what thought can measure thee, or tongue Relate thee! Greater now in thy return Than from the giant Angels: Thee that day Thy thunders magnified; but to create Is greater than created to destroy. Who can impair thee, Mighty King, or bound Thy empire? easily the proud attempt Of Spirits apostate, and their counsels vain, Thou hast repell'd; while impiously they thought Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks To lessen thee, against his purpose serves To manifest the more thy might: his evil Thou usest, and from thence creat'st more good. Witness this new-made world, another Heaven From Heaven-gate not far, founded in view
On the clear hyaline,1 the glassy sea;
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