Insensible! How glad would lay me down,
As in my mother's lap! There I should rest,
And sleep secure; his dreadful voice no more
Would thunder in my ears; no fear of worse
To me and to my offspring would torment me
With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt
Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die;
Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of man
Which God inspired, cannot together perish
With this corporeal clod: then, in the grave,
Or in some other dismal place, who knows
But I shall die a living death? O thought
Horrid, if true! Yet why? It was but breath
Of life that sinn'd; what dies but what had life
And sin? The body properly hath neither.
All of me then shall die: let this appease

780

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790

The doubt, since human reach no further knows:
For, though the Lord of all be infinite,
Is his wrath also? Be it, man is not so,
But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise
Wrath without end on man, whom death must end?
Can he make deathless death? That were to make
Strange contradiction, which to God himself
Impossible is held; as argument

795

800

Of weakness, not of power. Will he draw out,
For anger's sake, finite to infinite,

In punish'd man, to satisfy his rigour,

Satisfied never? That were to extend

His sentence beyond dust and nature's law,

805

By which all causes else, according still

To the reception of their matter, act;

Not to the extent of their own sphere. But say

That death be not one stroke, as I supposed,

Bereaving sense, but endless misery

810

From this day onward; which I feel begun

Both in me, and without me; and so last

To perpetuity:-ay, me! that fear

Comes thundering back with dreadful revolution

On my defenceless head; both death and I

815

Am found eternal, and incorporate both:

Nor I on my part single; in me all

Posterity stands cursed: fair patrimony

That I must leave ye, sons! O, were I able

To waste it all myself, and leave ye none!

So disinherited, how would you bless

Me, now your curse! Ah, why should all mankind,

783. Lest all I. So Horace, non omnis moriar, "I shall not all die;" that is, not every thing comprehended in the word I will die.

805. Beyond dust. That is, for God to punish him after death, would be to extend the sentence beyond dust.

820

806. By which, &c. That is, all other agents act in proportion to the reception or capacity of the subject matter, and not to the utmost extent of their own power.

For one man's fault, thus guiltless be condemn'd,
If guiltless? But from me what can proceed,
But all corrupt: both mind and will depraved,
Not to do only, but to will the same

With me? How can they then acquitted stand
In sight of God? Him, after all disputes,
Forced I absolve: all my evasions vain,

82

And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still 830
But to my own conviction: first and last

On me, me only, as the source and spring

Of all corruption, all the blame lights due;

So might the wrath! Fond wish! couldst thou support
That burden, heavier than the earth to bear;
Than all the world much heavier, though divided

835

With that bad woman? Thus, what thou desir'st,

And what thou fear'st, alike destroys all hope
Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable
Beyond all past example and future:

To Satan only like both crime and doom.
O conscience into what abyss of fears

And horrours hast thou driven me; out of which

I find no way, from deep to deeper plunged!
Thus Adam to himself lamented loud,
Through the still night; not now, as ere man fell,
Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black air
Accompanied; with damps and dreadful gloom;
Which to his evil conscience represented
All things with double terrour: on the ground
Outstretch'd he lay, on the cold ground; and oft
Cursed his creation; death as oft accused
Of tardy execution, since denounced
The day of his offence. Why comes not death,
Said he, with one thrice-acceptable stroke

840

845

850

855

To end me? Shall truth fail to keep her word,
Justice divine not hasten to be just?
But death comes not at call; justice divine
Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries.

O woods, O fountains, hillocks, dales, and bowers!
With other echo late I taught your shades
To answer and resound far other song.
Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld,
Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh,
Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd;
But her with stern regard he thus repell'd:

Out of my sight, thou serpent! That name best
Befits thee with him leagued, thyself as false
And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape,
Like his, and colour serpentine, may show

859. Her slowest pace, &c. The most beautiful passages commonly want the fewest notes; and we are sure the reader must not only perceive, but really feel

860

865

870

them, if he has any feeling at all. Nothing in all the ancient tragedies is more moving and pathetic.-NEWTON.

Thy inward fraud; to warn all creatures from thee
Henceforth; lest that too heavenly form, pretended
To hellish falsehood, snare them! But for thee
I had persisted happy: had not thy pride
And wandering vanity, when least was safe,
Rejected my forewarning, and disdain'd
Not to be trusted; longing to be seen,
Though by the devil himself, him overweening
To over-reach; but, with the serpent meeting,
Fool'd and beguiled; by him thou, I by thee,
To trust thee from my side, imagined wise,
Constant, mature, proof against all assaults;
And understood not all was but a show,
Rather than solid virtue; all but a rib
Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears,
More to the part sinister, from me drawn;
Well if thrown out, as supernumerary

To my just number found. O! why did God,
Creator wise, that peopled highest heaven
With spirits masculine, create at last

875

880

885

890

This novelty on earth, this fair defect

Of nature, and not fill the world at once
With men, as angels, without feminine;
Or find some other way to generate

Mankind? This mischief had not then befallen,
And more that shall befall; innumerable
Disturbances on earth through female snares,
And strait conjunction with this sex: for either
He never shall find out fit mate, but such

As some misfortune brings him, or mistake;
Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain,

Through her perverseness, but shall see her gain'd

By a far worse; or, if she love, withheld
By parents; or his happiest choice too late
Shall meet, already link'd and wedlock-bound

To a fell adversary, his hate or shame:

To human life, and household peace confound.

895

900

905

Which infinite calamity shall cause

He added not, and from her turn'd; but Eve,
Not so repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing,
And tresses all disorder'd, at his feet
Fell humble; and, embracing them, besought
His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint.

Forsake me not thus, Adam! witness, Heaven,
What love sincere, and reverence in my heart
I bear thee, and unweeting have offended,
Unhappily deceived! Thy suppliant,

I beg, and clasp thy knees: bereave me not,
Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid,

910

915

872. Pretended. Used in its original | before;" that is, placed before to cover Latin sense, (prætendere,) “held, or placed or conceal hellish falsehood.

Thy counsel, in this uttermost distress,
My only strength and stay: forlorn of thee,
Whither shall I betake me, where subsist?

While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps,

Between us two let there be peace; both joining,

As join'd in injuries, one enmity

Against a foe by doom express assign'd us,

That cruel serpent: on me exercise not
Thy hatred for this misery befallen;

On me already lost, me than thyself

More miserable! both have sinn'd; but thou
Against God only, I against God and thee;

And to the place of judgment will return,

There with my cries impórtune Heaven, that all

The sentence, from thy head removed, may light
On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe;

Me, me only, just object of his ire!

She ended weeping; and her lowly plight,
Immoveable, till peace obtain'd from fault

Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought

Commiseration; soon his heart relented

Towards her, his life so late, and sole delight,

Now at his feet submissive in distress;

Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking,

His counsel, whom she had displeased, his aid:

As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost;

And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon:

Unwary, and too desirous, as before,

So now, of what thou know'st not, who desirest

The punishment all on thyself; alas!

Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain

His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part,

And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If prayers

Could alter high decrees, I to that place

Would speed before thee, and be louder heard,

That on my head all might be visited;

Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven,

To me committed, and by me exposed.

But rise; let us no more contend, nor blame

Each other, blamed enough elsewhere; but strive

In offices of love, how we may lighten

Each other's burden, in our share of woe;

Since this day's death denounced, if aught I see,

Will prove no sudden, but a slow-paced evil;

A long day's dying, to augment our pain;

And to our seed (O hapless seed!) derived.

To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied:

Adam, by sad experiment I know

940. This picture of Eve's distress, her | to her, are extremely beautiful, I had submissive, tender address to her hus- almost said beyond any thing .n the band, and his generous reconcilement whole poem.-THYER.

How little weight my words with thee can find,
Found so erroneous; thence by just event
Found so unfortunate: nevertheless,
Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place
Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain

Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart,
Living or dying, from thee I will not hide
What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen,
Tending to some relief of our extremes,

Or end; though sharp and sad, yet tolerable,
As in our evils, and of easier choice.
If care of our descent perplex us most,
Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd
By Death at last; and miserable it is,
To be to others cause of misery,

Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring
Into this cursed world a woful race,

970

975

980

That after wretched life must be at last

Food for so foul a monster; in thy power

It lies, yet ere conception, to prevent
The race unblest, to being yet unbegot.

985

Childless thou art, childless remain: so Death

Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two
Be forced to satisfy his ravenous maw.
But if thou judge it hard and difficult,
Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain
From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweet;
And with desire to languish without hope,
Before the present object languishing
With like desire; which would be misery
And torment less than none of what we dread;
Then, both ourselves and seed at once to free
From what we fear for both, let us make short,-
Let us seek death; or, he not found, supply
With our own hands his office on ourselves.
Why stand we longer shivering under fears,

990

995

1000

That show no end but death; and have the power,
Of many ways to die the shortest choosing,
Destruction with destruction to destroy?
She ended here, or vehement despair

1005

Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts
Had entertain'd, as dy'd her cheeks with pale.
But Adam, with such counsel nothing sway'd.
To better hopes his more attentive mind
Labouring had raised; and thus to Eve replied:
Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems
To argue in thee something more sublime

1006. The construction is, "and have the power to destroy destruction with destruction, choosing the shortest of many ways to die."

1010

1012. Eve's speech, as Dr. Gillies remarks, breathes the language of despair; Adam's, the sentiments of a mind enlightened and encouraged by the word of God.-TODD.