Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.
The service past, around the pious man,
With ready zeal, each honest rustic ran;
Even children followed with endearing wile,
And plucked his gown to share the good man's smile.
His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed,
Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven.
As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
GOLDSMITH.-[From "The Deserted Village."]
Adam and Eve in Paradise.
Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall,
Godlike erect, with native honour clad
In naked majesty, seemed lords of all.
And worthy seemed, 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 seemed,
For contemplation he and valour formed,
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
Dishevelled, 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.
So passed they naked on, nor shunned the sight
Of God, or angel, for they thought no ill:
So hand in hand they passed, the loveliest 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, side-long as they sat recline
On the soft downy bank damasked with flowers.
Who had her very being and her name
With the first knots or buddings of the spring,
Born with the primrose, or the violet,
Or earliest roses blown.
Here she was wont to go! and here! and here!
Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow:
The world may find the spring by following her,
For other print her airy steps ne'er left.
Her treading would not bend a blade of grass,
Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk!
But like the soft west wind she shot along,
And where she went the flowers took thickest root,
As she had sowed them with her odorous foot.
EFTSOON there steppèd forth
A goodly lady clad in hunter's weed,
That seemed to be a woman of great worth,
And by her stately portance born of heavenly birth.
Her face so fair as flesh it seemed not,
But heavenly portrait of bright angel's hue,
Clear as the sky, withouten blame or blot,
Through goodly mixture of complexions due;
And in her cheeks the vermeil red did shew
Like roses in a bed of lilies shed,
The which ambrosial odours from them threw,
And gazer's sense with double pleasure fed,
Able to heal the sick, and to revive the dead.
In her fair eyes two living lamps did flame,
Kindled above at th' heavenly Maker's light,
And darted fiery beams out of the same
So passing perceant and so wondrous bright,
That quite bereaved the rash beholder's sight:
In them the blinded god his lustful fire
To kindle oft assayed, but had no might;
For with dread majesty, and awful ire,
She broke his wanton darts, and quenched base desire.
Her ivory forehead, full of bounty brave, Like a broad table did itself disspread, For love his lofty triumphs to engrave, And write the battles of his great godhead; All good and honour might therein be read, For there their dwelling was; and when she spake, Sweet words, like dropping honey, she did shed, And twixt the pearls and rubies softly brake A silver sound, that heavenly music seemed to make
Upon her eyelids many Graces sate,
Under the shadow of her even brows
Working bellegardes and amorous rétraite,
And every one her with a grace endows,
And every one with meekness to her bows:
So glorious mirror of celestial grace,
And sovereign monument of mortal vows,
How shall frail pen describe her heavenly face,
For fear, through want of skill, her beauty to disgrace?
So fair, and thousand thousand times more fair,
She seemed, when she presented was to sight,
And was yclad, for heat of scorching air,
All in a silken camus lily white,
Purfled upon with many a folded plite, Which all above besprinkled was throughout With golden aigulets that glistered bright, Like twinkling stars, and all the skirt about Was hemmed with golden fringe.
And in her hand a sharp bow spear she held,
And at her back a bow and quiver gay,
|