Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite
To pluck and eat; whereat I waked, and found
Before mine eyes all real, as the dream
Had lively shadow'd: here ha new begun
My wandering, had not He, who was my guide
Up hither, from among the trees appear'd,
Presence Divine. Rejoicing, but with awe,
In adoration at his feet I fell

Submiss: he rear'd me, and, Whom thou sought'st I am,

Said mildly; Authour of all this thou seest

310

315

Above, or round about thee, or beneath.

This Paradise I give thee; count it thine

To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat:
Of every tree that in the garden grows

Eat freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth:
But of the tree, whose operation brings
Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set
The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith,
Amid the garden, by the tree of life,
Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste,
And shun the bitter consequence: for know,
The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command
Transgress'd, inevitably thou shalt die,
From that day mortal; and this happy state
Shalt lose, expell'd from hence into a world
Of woe and sorrow. Sternly he pronounced
The rigid interdiction, which resounds

Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice
Not to incur: but soon his clear aspéct
Return'd, and gracious purpose thus renew'd:
Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth
To thee and to thy race I give; as lords
Possess it, and all things that therein live,
Or live in sea or air; beast, fish, and fowl.
In sign whereof, each bird and beast behold
After their kinds; I bring them to receive
From thee their names, and pay thee fealty
With low subjection; understand the same
of fish within their watery residence,

Not hither summon'd, since they cannot change
Their element, to draw the thinner air.

As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold
Approaching two and two; these cowering low
With blandishment; each bird stoop'd on his wing.
I named them as they pass'd, and understood
Their nature; with such knowledge God endued
My sudden apprehension: but in these

323. But of the tree. This being the great hinge on which the whole poem turns, Milton has marked it strongly: he dwells, expatiates upon it, (from line

320

325

330

335

340

345

350

323 to 336,) repeating, enforcing, fixing every word: it is all nerve and energy.RICHARDSON.

354. From the short account given by

I found not what methought I wanted still;
And to the heavenly Vision thus presumed:

O, by what name, for thou above all these,
Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher,
Surpassest far my naming; how may I
Adore thee, Authour of this universe,
And all this good to man? for whose well-being
So amply, and with hands so liberal,
Thou hast provided all things: but with me
I see not who partakes. In solitude
What happiness, who can enjoy alone,
Or, all enjoying, what contentment find?
Thus I presumptuous; and the Vision bright,
As with a smile more brighten'd, thus replied:

What call'st thou solitude? Is not the earth
With various living creatures, and the air
Replenish'd, and all these at thy command
To come and play before thee? Know'st thou not
Their language and their ways? They also know,
And reason not contemptibly: with these
Find pastime, and bear rule; thy realm is large.
So spake the Universal Lord, and seem'd
So ordering: I, with leave of speech implored,
And humble deprecation, thus replied:

355

360

365

370

375

Let not my words offend thee, heavenly Power;

My Maker, be propitious while I speak.

380

Hast thou not made me here thy substitute,
And these inferiour far beneath me set?
Among unequals what society

Can sort, what harmony, or true delight?
Which must be mutual, in proportion due
Given and received: but, in disparity,
The one intense, the other still remiss,
Cannot well suit with either, but soon prove
Tedious alike: of fellowship I speak,
Such as I seek, fit to participate
All rational delight; wherein the brute
Cannot be human consort: they rejoice
Each with their kind, lion with lioness;
So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined:
Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl
So well converse, nor with the ox the ape;
Worse then can man with beast, and least of all.
Whereto the Almighty answer'd, not displeased:
A nice and subtle happiness, I see,

385

390

395

rational; the one intense, man high, and strained to nobler understanding; the other still remiss, the animal let down, and grovelling: these can never suit together. A musical metaphor, from strings, of which the stretched and highest give a sharp and smart sound; the slack, a flat and heavy one

No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary.

What think'st thou then of me, and this my state?
Seem I to thee sufficiently possess'd

Of happiness, or not? who am alone

400

405

From all eternity; for none I know

Second to me or like, equal much less.

How have I then with whom to hold converse,

Save with the creatures which I made, and those
To me inferiour, infinite descents

410

Beneath what other creatures are to thee?

The highth and depth of thy eternal ways

He ceased; I lowly answer'd: To attain

All human thoughts come short, Supreme of things!
Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thee

Is no deficience found: not so is man,

But in degree; the cause of his desire
By conversation with his like to help,
Or solace his defects. No need that thou
Shouldst propagate, already Infinite;

And through all numbers absolute, though One:
But man by number is to manifest
His single imperfection, and beget
Like of his like, his image multiplied,
In unity defective; which requires
Collateral love, and dearest amity.
Thou in thy secresy, although alone,

415

Best with thyself accompanied, seek'st not

Canst raise thy creature to what highth thou wilt
Of union or communion, deified:

430

Social communication; yet, so pleased,

I, by conversing, cannot these erect

From prone; nor in their ways complacence find.
Thus I embolden'd spake, and freedom used
Permissive, and acceptance found: which gain'd
This answer from the gracious Voice Divine:

Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased:
And find thee knowing, not of beasts alone,
Which thou hast rightly named, but of thyself;
Expressing well the spirit within thee free,
My image, not imparted to the brute;
Whose fellowship therefore, unmeet for thee,
Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike;
And be so minded still: I, ere thou spak'st,
Knew it not good for man to be alone;

435

410

445

lar;" in omnibus numeris, "through all numbers," means perfect in every part: so, habere omnes numeros, "to have every requisite," "to have every good quality." 423. His single: That is, the imperfec tion of him as an individual, from being

421. And through all numbers absolute. | Milton's mind was so thoroughly imbued with the classics, that he constantly uses English words derived from the Latin in their original sense. Here the word numbers is used in one of the senses of numerus; namely, "a part," "a particu-single.

And no such company as then thou saw'st
Intended thee; for trial only brought,

To see how thou couldst judge of fit and meet:
What next I bring shall please thee, be assured,
Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self,

450

Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desire.

He ended, or I heard no more; for now

My earthly by his heavenly overpower'd,

Which it had long stood under, strain'd to the highth
In that celestial colloquy sublime,

455

As with an object that excels the sense,

Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'd

Dazzled and spent, sunk down; and sought repair

By nature as in aid, and closed mine eyes.

Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell
Of fancy, my internal sight; by which,
Abstract as in a trance, methought I saw,
Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape
Still glorious before whom awake I stood;

460

Who stooping, open'd my left side, and took
From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm,

465

And life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound,

But suddenly with flesh fill'd up and heal'd:

The rib he form'd and fashion'd with his hands;
Under his forming hands a creature grew,
Man-like, but different sex; so lovely fair,

470

That what seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd now

Mean, or in her summ'd up, in her contain'd

And in her looks; which from that time infused
Sweetness into my heart unfelt before,

475

And into all things from her air inspired.
The spirit of love and amorous delight.
She disappear'd, and left me dark; I waked
To find her, or for ever to deplore
Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure:
When out of hope, behold her, not far off,
Such as I saw her in my dream, adorn'd
With what all earth or heaven could bestow
To make her amiable; on she came,
Led by her heavenly Maker, though unseen,
And guided by his voice; nor uninform'd
Of nuptial sanctity, and marriage rites:
Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love.

480

495

I, overjoy'd, could not forbear aloud:

490

This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfill'd

Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign,
Giver of all things fair! but fairest this
Of all thy gifts! nor enviest. I now see
Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself
Before me: Woman is her name; of man
Extracted: for this cause he shall forego

495

Father and mother, and to his wife adhere;

And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul.

She heard me thus; and though divinely brought, Yet innocence, and virgin modesty,

Her virtue, and the conscience of her worth,
That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won,
Not obvious, not obtrusive, but, retired,
The more desirable; or, to say all,

Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought,
Wrought in her so, that, seeing me, she turn'd:
I follow'd her; she what was honour knew,
And with obsequious majesty approved
My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower
I fed her blushing like the morn: all heaven,
And happy constellations, on that hour
Shed their selectest influence; the earth
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill;
Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs
Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings
Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub,
Disporting, till the amorous bird of night
Sung spousal, and bid haste the evening-star
On his hill top, to light the bridal lamp.

Thus have I told thee all my state, and brought

My story to the sum of earthly bliss,

Which I enjoy; and must confess to find

500

505

510

515

620

In all things else delight indeed, but such

As, used or not, works in the mind no change,

525

Nor vehement desire; these delicacies

I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flowers,

Walks, and the melody of birds: but here

Far otherwise, transported I behold,

Transported touch; here passion first I felt,
Commotion strange! in all enjoyments else
Superiour and unmoved; here only weak
Against the charm of beauty's powerful glance.
Or nature fail'd in me, and left some part
Not proof enough such object to sustain;
Or, from my side subducting, took perhaps
More than enough; at least on her bestow'd
Too much of ornament, in outward show
Elaborate, of inward less exact.

For well I understand in the prime end
Of nature her the inferiour, in the mind
And inward faculties, which most excel:
In outward also her resembling less

His image who made both, and less expressing
The character of that dominion given
O'er other creatures: yet, when I approach

502. Conscience: Consciousness.

530

535

540

545

some degree of resentment against our

516. Let the fair reader, who may feel great poet because she thinks, that in