Drawn to his part; but other powers as great Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within Or from without, to all temptations armed. Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand? Thou hadst whom hast thou then or what to accuse, But Heaven's free love dealt equally to all? Be then his love accursed, since love or hate, To me alike, it deals eternal woe.
Nay, cursed be thou; since against his thy will Chose freely what it now so justly rues. Me miserable! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven. O, then, at last relent: is there no place Left for repentance, none for pardon left? None left but by submission; and that word Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduced With other promises and other vaunts Than to submit, boasting I could subdue The Omnipotent. Ah me! they little know How dearly I abide that boast so vain; Under what torments inwardly I groan, While they adore me on the throne of hell. With diadem and sceptre high advanced, The lower still I fall, only supreme In misery: such joy ambition finds. But say I could repent, and could obtain, By act of grace, my former state; how soon Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay What feigned submission swore! Ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void. For never can true reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep: Which would but lead me to a worse relapse And heavier fall; so should I purchase dear Short intermission bought with double smart. This knows my punisher; therefore as far From granting he, as I from begging peace : All hope excluded thus, behold, instead
Of us out-cast, exiled, his new delight, Mankind created, and for him this world. So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost; Evil, be thou my good: by thee at least Divided empire with heaven's King I hold, By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign; As man ere long, and this new world shall know."
(From "Paradise Lost," Book IV.)
So on he fares, and to the border comes Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, Now nearer, crowns with her inclosure green, As with a rural mound, the champaign head Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, Access denied; and overhead up-grew Insuperable height of loftiest shade,
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, A sylvan scene; and, as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woody theatre
Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops The verdurous wall of Paradise up-sprung: Which to our general sire gave prospect large Into his nether empire neighbouring round : And higher than that wall a circling row Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit, Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue, Appeared, with gay enamelled colours mixed; On which the sun more glad impressed his beams Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow,
When God hath showered the earth; so lovely seemed That landscape and of pure, now purer air Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires Vernal delight and joy, able to drive
All sadness but despair: now gentle gales, Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils.
ADAM'S ADDRESS TO EVE.
(From "Paradise Lost," Book IV.)
"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 knowest God has pronounced it death to taste that tree, The only sign of our obedience left
Among so many signs of power and rule Conferred 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."
EVE'S ACCOUNT OF HERSELF.
(From "Paradise Lost," Book IV.)
THAT day I oft remember, when from sleep I first awaked, and found myself reposed
Under a shade 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 seemed another sky. As I bent down to look, just opposite
A shape within the watery gleam appeared, Bending to look on me: I started back, It started back; but pleased I soon returned, Pleased it returned as soon with answering looks Of sympathy and love: there I had fixed Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire, Had not a voice thus warned me: What thou seest, What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself; With thee it came and goes; but follow me, And I will bring thee where no shadow stays Thy coming, and thy soft embraces, he Whose image thou art; him thou shalt enjoy Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear
Multitudes like thyself, and thence be called Mother of human race. What could I do, But follow straight, invisibly thus led? Till I espied thee, fair indeed and tall, Under a plantain, yet methought less fair, Less winning soft, less amiably mild,
Than that smooth watery image: back I turned Thou following criedst aloud, Return, fair Eve; Whom flyest thou? whom thou flyest, of him thou art, His flesh, his bone; to give thee being I lent Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, Substantial life, to have thee by my side Henceforth an individual solace dear; Part of my soul, I seek thee, and thee claim My other half. With that thy gentle hand Seized mine I yielded; and from that time see How beauty is excelled by manly grace, And wisdom, which alone is truly fair."
(From "Paradise Lost," Book IV.)
Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied; for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale. She all night long her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleased: now glowed the firmament With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, Rising in clouded majesty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
MORNING IN PARADISE.
(From "Paradise Lost," Book V.)
Now morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred, And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough; so much the more His wonder was to find unwakened Eve With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, As through unquiet rest: he, on his side Leaning half-raised, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamoured, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces: then with voice Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching whispered thus: "Awake, My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, Heaven's last best gift, my ever-new delight! Awake: the morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us; we lose the prime to mark how spring Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet."
ADAM AND EVE'S MORNING HYMN. (From "Paradise Lost," Book V.)
"THESE are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty! Thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair: Thyself how wondrous then,
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