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Book VIII
The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left
his voice, that he a while
Thought him still
speaking, still stood fixed to hear;
Then, as new
waked, thus gratefully replied.
What thanks
sufficient, or what recompence
Equal, have I to
render thee, divine
Historian, who thus largely hast
allayed
The thirst I had of knowledge, and
vouchsafed
This friendly condescension to relate
Things, else by me unsearchable; now heard
With
wonder, but delight, and, as is due,
With glory
attributed to the high
Creator! Something yet of
doubt remains,
Which only thy solution can resolve.
When I behold this goodly frame, this world,
Of
Heaven and Earth consisting; and compute
Their
magnitudes; this Earth, a spot, a grain,
An atom,
with the firmament compared
And all her numbered
stars, that seem to roll
Spaces incomprehensible,
(for such
Their distance argues, and their swift
return
Diurnal,) merely to officiate light
Round
this opacous Earth, this punctual spot,
One day and
night; in all her vast survey
Useless besides;
reasoning I oft admire,
How Nature wise and frugal
could commit
Such disproportions, with superfluous
hand
So many nobler bodies to create,
Greater so
manifold, to this one use,
For aught appears, and on
their orbs impose
Such restless revolution day by
day
Repeated; while the sedentary Earth,
That
better might with far less compass move,
Served by
more noble than herself, attains
Her end without
least motion, and receives,
As tribute, such a
sumless journey brought
Of incorporeal speed, her
warmth and light;
Speed, to describe whose swiftness
number fails.
So spake our sire, and by his
countenance seemed
Entering on studious thoughts
abstruse; which Eve
Perceiving, where she sat
retired in sight,
With lowliness majestick from her
seat,
And grace that won who saw to wish her stay,
Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowers,
To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom,
Her
nursery; they at her coming sprung,
And, touched by
her fair tendance, gladlier grew.
Yet went she not,
as not with such discourse
Delighted, or not capable
her ear
Of what was high: such pleasure she
reserved,
Adam relating, she sole auditress;
Her
husband the relater she preferred
Before the Angel,
and of him to ask
Chose rather; he, she knew, would
intermix
Grateful digressions, and solve high
dispute
With conjugal caresses: from his lip
Not
words alone pleased her. O! when meet now
Such
pairs, in love and mutual honour joined?
With
Goddess-like demeanour forth she went,
Not
unattended; for on her, as Queen,
A pomp of winning
Graces waited still,
And from about her shot darts
of desire
Into all eyes, to wish her still in sight.
And Raphael now, to Adam's doubt proposed,
Benevolent and facile thus replied.
To ask or
search, I blame thee not; for Heaven
Is as the book
of God before thee set,
Wherein to read his
wonderous works, and learn
His seasons, hours, or
days, or months, or years:
This to attain, whether
Heaven move or Earth,
Imports not, if thou reckon
right; the rest
From Man or Angel the great
Architect
Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge
His secrets to be scanned by them who ought
Rather
admire; or, if they list to try
Conjecture, he his
fabrick of the Heavens
Hath left to their disputes,
perhaps to move
His laughter at their quaint
opinions wide
Hereafter; when they come to model
Heaven
And calculate the stars, how they will wield
The mighty frame; how build, unbuild, contrive
To save appearances; how gird the sphere
With
centrick and eccentrick scribbled o'er,
Cycle and
epicycle, orb in orb:
Already by thy reasoning this
I guess,
Who art to lead thy offspring, and
supposest
That bodies bright and greater should not
serve
The less not bright, nor Heaven such journeys
run,
Earth sitting still, when she alone receives
The benefit: Consider first, that great
Or
bright infers not excellence: the Earth
Though, in
comparison of Heaven, so small,
Nor glistering, may
of solid good contain
More plenty than the sun that
barren shines;
Whose virtue on itself works no
effect,
But in the fruitful Earth; there first
received,
His beams, unactive else, their vigour
find.
Yet not to Earth are those bright luminaries
Officious; but to thee, Earth's habitant.
And
for the Heaven's wide circuit, let it speak
The
Maker's high magnificence, who built
So spacious,
and his line stretched out so far;
That Man may know
he dwells not in his own;
An edifice too large for
him to fill,
Lodged in a small partition; and the
rest
Ordained for uses to his Lord best known.
The swiftness of those circles attribute,
Though
numberless, to his Omnipotence,
That to corporeal
substances could add
Speed almost spiritual: Me thou
thinkest not slow,
Who since the morning-hour set
out from Heaven
Where God resides, and ere mid-day
arrived
In Eden; distance inexpressible
By
numbers that have name. But this I urge,
Admitting
motion in the Heavens, to show
Invalid that which
thee to doubt it moved;
Not that I so affirm, though
so it seem
To thee who hast thy dwelling here on
Earth.
God, to remove his ways from human sense,
Placed Heaven from Earth so far, that earthly sight,
If it presume, might err in things too high,
And no
advantage gain. What if the sun
Be center to the
world; and other stars,
By his attractive virtue and
their own
Incited, dance about him various rounds?
Their wandering course now high, now low, then hid,
Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,
In
six thou seest; and what if seventh to these
The
planet earth, so stedfast though she seem,
Insensibly three different motions move?
Which else
to several spheres thou must ascribe,
Moved contrary
with thwart obliquities;
Or save the sun his labour,
and that swift
Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed,
Invisible else above all stars, the wheel
Of day
and night; which needs not thy belief,
If earth,
industrious of herself, fetch day
Travelling east,
and with her part averse
From the sun's beam meet
night, her other part
Still luminous by his ray.
What if that light,
Sent from her through the wide
transpicuous air,
To the terrestrial moon be as a
star,
Enlightening her by day, as she by night
This earth? reciprocal, if land be there,
Fields and
inhabitants: Her spots thou seest
As clouds, and
clouds may rain, and rain produce
Fruits in her
softened soil for some to eat
Allotted there; and
other suns perhaps,
With their attendant moons, thou
wilt descry,
Communicating male and female light;
Which two great sexes animate the world,
Stored
in each orb perhaps with some that live.
For such
vast room in Nature unpossessed
By living soul,
desart and desolate,
Only to shine, yet scarce to
contribute
Each orb a glimpse of light, conveyed so
far
Down to this habitable, which returns
Light
back to them, is obvious to dispute.
But whether
thus these things, or whether not;
But whether the
sun, predominant in Heaven,
Rise on the earth; or
earth rise on the sun;
He from the east his flaming
road begin;
Or she from west her silent course
advance,
With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps
On her soft axle, while she paces even,
And
bears thee soft with the smooth hair along;
Sollicit
not thy thoughts with matters hid;
Leave them to God
above; him serve, and fear!
Of other creatures, as
him pleases best,
Wherever placed, let him dispose;
joy thou
In what he gives to thee, this Paradise
And thy fair Eve; Heaven is for thee too high
To
know what passes there; be lowly wise:
Think only
what concerns thee, and thy being;
Dream not of
other worlds, what creatures there
Live, in what
state, condition, or degree;
Contented that thus far
hath been revealed
Not of Earth only, but of highest
Heaven.
To whom thus Adam, cleared of doubt,
replied.
How fully hast thou satisfied me, pure
Intelligence of Heaven, Angel serene!
And, freed
from intricacies, taught to live
The easiest way;
nor with perplexing thoughts
To interrupt the sweet
of life, from which
God hath bid dwell far off all
anxious cares,
And not molest us; unless we
ourselves
Seek them with wandering thoughts, and
notions vain.
But apt the mind or fancy is to rove
Unchecked, and of her roving is no end;
Till
warned, or by experience taught, she learn,
That,
not to know at large of things remote
From use,
obscure and subtle; but, to know
That which before
us lies in daily life,
Is the prime wisdom: What is
more, is fume,
Or emptiness, or fond impertinence:
And renders us, in things that most concern,
Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek.
Therefore from this high pitch let us descend
A
lower flight, and speak of things at hand
Useful;
whence, haply, mention may arise
Of something not
unseasonable to ask,
By sufferance, and thy wonted
favour, deigned.
Thee I have heard relating what was
done
Ere my remembrance: now, hear me relate
My
story, which perhaps thou hast not heard;
And day is
not yet spent; till then thou seest
How subtly to
detain thee I devise;
Inviting thee to hear while I
relate;
Fond! were it not in hope of thy reply:
For, while I sit with thee, I seem in Heaven;
And
sweeter thy discourse is to my ear
Than fruits of
palm-tree pleasantest to thirst
And hunger both,
from labour, at the hour
Of sweet repast; they
satiate, and soon fill,
Though pleasant; but thy
words, with grace divine
Imbued, bring to their
sweetness no satiety.
To whom thus Raphael answered
heavenly meek.
Nor are thy lips ungraceful, Sire of
men,
Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee
Abundantly his gifts hath also poured
Inward and
outward both, his image fair:
Speaking, or mute, all
comeliness and grace
Attends thee; and each word,
each motion, forms;
Nor less think we in Heaven of
thee on Earth
Than of our fellow-servant, and
inquire
Gladly into the ways of God with Man:
For God, we see, hath honoured thee, and set
On Man
his equal love: Say therefore on;
For I that day was
absent, as befel,
Bound on a voyage uncouth and
obscure,
Far on excursion toward the gates of Hell;
Squared in full legion (such command we had)
To
see that none thence issued forth a spy,
Or enemy,
while God was in his work;
Lest he, incensed at such
eruption bold,
Destruction with creation might have
mixed.
Not that they durst without his leave
attempt;
But us he sends upon his high behests
For state, as Sovran King; and to inure
Our prompt
obedience. Fast we found, fast shut,
The dismal
gates, and barricadoed strong;
But long ere our
approaching heard within
Noise, other than the sound
of dance or song,
Torment, and loud lament, and
furious rage.
Glad we returned up to the coasts of
light
Ere sabbath-evening: so we had in charge.
But thy relation now; for I attend,
Pleased with thy
words no less than thou with mine.
So spake the
Godlike Power, and thus our Sire.
For Man to tell
how human life began
Is hard; for who himself
beginning knew
Desire with thee still longer to
converse
Induced me. As new waked from soundest
sleep,
Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid,
In balmy sweat; which with his beams the sun
Soon
dried, and on the reeking moisture fed.
Straight
toward Heaven my wondering eyes I turned,
And gazed
a while the ample sky; till, raised
By quick
instinctive motion, up I sprung,
As thitherward
endeavouring, and upright
Stood on my feet: about me
round I saw
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny
plains,
And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by
these,
Creatures that lived and moved, and walked,
or flew;
Birds on the branches warbling; all things
smiled;
With fragrance and with joy my heart
o'erflowed.
Myself I then perused, and limb by limb
Surveyed, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran
With supple joints, as lively vigour led:
But who I
was, or where, or from what cause,
Knew not; to
speak I tried, and forthwith spake;
My tongue
obeyed, and readily could name
Whate'er I saw. Thou
Sun, said I, fair light,
And thou enlightened Earth,
so fresh and gay,
Ye Hills, and Dales, ye Rivers,
Woods, and Plains,
And ye that live and move, fair
Creatures, tell,
Tell, if ye saw, how I came thus,
how here?--
Not of myself;--by some great Maker
then,
In goodness and in power pre-eminent:
Tell
me, how may I know him, how adore,
From whom I have
that thus I move and live,
And feel that I am
happier than I know.--
While thus I called, and
strayed I knew not whither,
From where I first drew
air, and first beheld
This happy light; when, answer
none returned,
On a green shady bank, profuse of
flowers,
Pensive I sat me down: There gentle sleep
First found me, and with soft oppression seised
My droused sense, untroubled, though I thought
I
then was passing to my former state
Insensible, and
forthwith to dissolve:
When suddenly stood at my
head a dream,
Whose inward apparition gently moved
My fancy to believe I yet had being,
And lived:
One came, methought, of shape divine,
And said, 'Thy
mansion wants thee, Adam; rise,
'First Man, of men
innumerable ordained
'First Father! called by thee,
I come thy guide
'To the garden of bliss, thy seat
prepared.'
So saying, by the hand he took me raised,
And over fields and waters, as in air
Smooth-sliding without step, last led me up
A woody
mountain; whose high top was plain,
A circuit wide,
enclosed, with goodliest trees
Planted, with walks,
and bowers; that what I saw
Of Earth before scarce
pleasant seemed. Each tree,
Loaden with fairest
fruit that hung to the eye
Tempting, stirred in me
sudden appetite
To pluck and eat; whereat I waked,
and found
Before mine eyes all real, as the dream
Had lively shadowed: Here had new begun
My
wandering, had not he, who was my guide
Up hither,
from among the trees appeared,
Presence Divine.
Rejoicing, but with awe,
In adoration at his feet I
fell
Submiss: He reared me, and 'Whom thou soughtest
I am,'
Said mildly, 'Author of all this thou seest
'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 eatest
thereof, my sole command
'Transgressed, inevitably
thou shalt die,
'From that day mortal; and this
happy state
'Shalt lose, expelled 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 aspect
Returned, and gracious purpose
thus renewed.
'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 summoned, 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 stooped on his wing.
I named them, as they passed, and understood
Their nature, with such knowledge God endued
My
sudden apprehension: But in these
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,
Author 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 brightened, thus
replied.
What callest thou solitude? Is not the
Earth
With various living creatures, and the air
Replenished, and all these at thy command
To come
and play before thee? Knowest 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 seemed
So ordering: I, with leave of
speech implored,
And humble deprecation, thus
replied.
Let not my words offend thee, Heavenly
Power;
My Maker, be propitious while I speak.
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 answered, not displeased.
A nice and
subtle happiness, I see,
Thou to thyself proposest,
in the choice
Of thy associates, Adam! and wilt
taste
No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary.
What thinkest thou then of me, and this my state?
Seem I to thee sufficiently possessed
Of happiness,
or not? who am alone
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
Beneath what other
creatures are to thee?
He ceased; I lowly answered.
To attain
The highth and depth of thy eternal ways
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,
Best with thyself accompanied, seekest not
Social communication; yet, so pleased,
Canst raise
thy creature to what highth thou wilt
Of union or
communion, deified:
I, by conversing, cannot these
erect
From prone; nor in their ways complacence
find.
Thus I emboldened spake, and freedom used
Permissive, and acceptance found; which gained
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 spakest,
Knew it not good for Man to be alone;
And no such
company as then thou sawest
Intended thee; for trial
only brought,
To see how thou couldest judge of fit
and meet:
What next I bring shall please thee, be
assured,
Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self,
Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desire.
He
ended, or I heard no more; for now
My earthly by his
heavenly overpowered,
Which it had long stood under,
strained to the highth
In that celestial colloquy
sublime,
As with an object that excels the sense
Dazzled and spent, sunk down; and sought repair
Of
sleep, which instantly fell on me, called
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:
Who stooping opened my left side, and took
From
thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm,
And
life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound,
But
suddenly with flesh filled up and healed:
The rib he
formed and fashioned with his hands;
Under his
forming hands a creature grew,
Man-like, but
different sex; so lovely fair,
That what seemed fair
in all the world, seemed now
Mean, or in her summed
up, in her contained
And in her looks; which from
that time infused
Sweetness into my heart, unfelt
before,
And into all things from her air inspired
The spirit of love and amorous delight.
She
disappeared, 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, adorned
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
uninformed
Of nuptial sanctity, and marriage rites:
Grace was in all her steps, Heaven in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love.
I, overjoyed,
could not forbear aloud.
This turn hath made amends;
thou hast fulfilled
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
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 wooed, 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
turned:
I followed her; she what was honour knew,
And with obsequious majesty approved
My pleaded
reason. To the nuptial bower
I led 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
Whispered 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
In all
things else delight indeed, but such
As, used or
not, works in the mind no change,
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 failed
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 bestowed
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
Her loveliness, so absolute she seems
And in herself complete, so well to know
Her own,
that what she wills to do or say,
Seems wisest,
virtuousest, discreetest, best:
All higher knowledge
in her presence falls
Degraded; Wisdom in discourse
with her
Loses discountenanced, and like Folly
shows;
Authority and Reason on her wait,
As one
intended first, not after made
Occasionally; and, to
consummate all,
Greatness of mind and Nobleness
their seat
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe
About her, as a guard angelick placed.
To whom
the Angel with contracted brow.
Accuse not Nature,
she hath done her part;
Do thou but thine; and be
not diffident
Of Wisdom; she deserts thee not, if
thou
Dismiss not her, when most thou needest her
nigh,
By attributing overmuch to things
Less
excellent, as thou thyself perceivest.
For, what
admirest thou, what transports thee so,
An outside?
fair, no doubt, and worthy well
Thy cherishing, thy
honouring, and thy love;
Not thy subjection: Weigh
with her thyself;
Then value: Oft-times nothing
profits more
Than self-esteem, grounded on just and
right
Well managed; of that skill the more thou
knowest,
The more she will acknowledge thee her
head,
And to realities yield all her shows:
Made
so adorn for thy delight the more,
So awful, that
with honour thou mayest love
Thy mate, who sees when
thou art seen least wise.
But if the sense of touch,
whereby mankind
Is propagated, seem such dear
delight
Beyond all other; think the same vouchsafed
To cattle and each beast; which would not be
To
them made common and divulged, if aught
Therein
enjoyed were worthy to subdue
The soul of man, or
passion in him move.
What higher in her society thou
findest
Attractive, human, rational, love still;
In loving thou dost well, in passion not,
Wherein
true love consists not: Love refines
The thoughts,
and heart enlarges; hath his seat
In reason, and is
judicious; is the scale
By which to heavenly love
thou mayest ascend,
Not sunk in carnal pleasure; for
which cause,
Among the beasts no mate for thee was
found.
To whom thus, half abashed, Adam replied.
Neither her outside formed so fair, nor aught
In
procreation common to all kinds,
(Though higher of
the genial bed by far,
And with mysterious reverence
I deem,)
So much delights me, as those graceful
acts,
Those thousand decencies, that daily flow
From all her words and actions mixed with love
And
sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned
Union of
mind, or in us both one soul;
Harmony to behold in
wedded pair
More grateful than harmonious sound to
the ear.
Yet these subject not; I to thee disclose
What inward thence I feel, not therefore foiled,
Who meet with various objects, from the sense
Variously representing; yet, still free,
Approve the
best, and follow what I approve.
To love, thou
blamest me not; for Love, thou sayest,
Leads up to
Heaven, is both the way and guide;
Bear with me
then, if lawful what I ask:
Love not the heavenly
Spirits, and how their love
Express they? by looks
only? or do they mix
Irradiance, virtual or
immediate touch?
To whom the Angel, with a smile
that glowed
Celestial rosy red, Love's proper hue,
Answered. Let it suffice thee that thou knowest
Us happy, and without love no happiness.
Whatever
pure thou in the body enjoyest,
(And pure thou wert
created) we enjoy
In eminence; and obstacle find
none
Of membrane, joint, or limb, exclusive bars;
Easier than air with air, if Spirits embrace,
Total they mix, union of pure with pure
Desiring,
nor restrained conveyance need,
As flesh to mix with
flesh, or soul with soul.
But I can now no more; the
parting sun
Beyond the Earth's green Cape and
verdant Isles
Hesperian sets, my signal to depart.
Be strong, live happy, and love! But, first of all,
Him, whom to love is to obey, and keep
His great
command; take heed lest passion sway
Thy judgement
to do aught, which else free will
Would not admit:
thine, and of all thy sons,
The weal or woe in thee
is placed; beware!
I in thy persevering shall
rejoice,
And all the Blest: Stand fast;to stand or
fall
Free in thine own arbitrement it lies.
Perfect within, no outward aid require;
And all
temptation to transgress repel.
So saying, he arose;
whom Adam thus
Followed with benediction. Since to
part,
Go, heavenly guest, ethereal Messenger,
Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore!
Gentle to
me and affable hath been
Thy condescension, and
shall be honoured ever
With grateful memory: Thou to
mankind
Be good and friendly still, and oft return!
So parted they; the Angel up to Heaven
From the
thick shade, and Adam to his bower.
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