Read The Complete Poems (Penguin Classics) Page 42


  45 To whom the Father, without cloud, serene.

  All thy request for man, accepted Son,

  Obtain, all thy request was my decree:

  But longer in that Paradise to dwell,

  The law I gave to Nature him forbids:

  50 Those pure immortal elements that know

  No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul,

  Eject him tainted now, and purge him off

  As a distemper, gross to air as gross,

  And mortal food, as may dispose him best

  55 For dissolution wrought by sin, that first

  Distempered all things, and of incorrupt

  Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts

  Created him endowed, with happiness

  And immortality: that fondly lost,

  60 This other served but to eternize woe;

  Till I provided death; so death becomes

  His final remedy, and after life

  Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined

  By faith and faithful works, to second life,

  65 Waked in the renovation of the just,

  Resigns him up with heav’n and earth renewed.

  But let us call to synod all the blest

  Through Heav’n’s wide bounds; from them I will not hide

  My judgements, how with mankind I proceed,

  70 As how with peccant angels late they saw;

  And in their state, though firm, stood more confirmed.

  He ended, and the Son gave signal high

  To the bright minister that watched; he blew

  His trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps

  75 When God descended, and perhaps once more

  To sound at general doom. Th’ angelic blast

  Filled all the regions: from their blissful bow’rs

  Of amarantine shade, fountain or spring,

  By the waters of life, where’er they sat

  80 In fellowships of joy: the sons of light

  Hasted, resorting to the summons high,

  And took their seats; till from his throne supreme

  Th’ Almighty thus pronounced his sov’reign will.

  O sons, like one of us man is become

  85 To know both good and evil, since his taste

  Of that defended fruit; but let him boast

  His knowledge of good lost, and evil got,

  Happier, had it sufficed him to have known

  Good by itself, and evil not at all.

  90 He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite,

  My motions in him; longer than they move,

  His heart I know, how variable and vain

  Self-left. Lest therefore his now bolder hand

  Reach also of the Tree of Life, and eat,

  95 And live for ever, dream at least to live

  For ever, to remove him I decree,

  And send him from the garden forth to till

  The ground whence he was taken, fitter soil.

  Michael, this my behest have thou in charge,

  100 Take to thee from among the Cherubim

  Thy choice of flaming warriors, lest the Fiend

  Or in behalf of man, or to invade

  Vacant possession some new trouble raise:

  Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God

  105 Without remorse drive out the sinful pair,

  From hallowed ground th’ unholy, and denounce

  To them and to their progeny from thence

  Perpetual banishment. Yet lest they faint

  At the sad sentence rigorously urged,

  110 For I behold them softened and with tears

  Bewailing their excess, all terror hide.

  If patiently thy bidding they obey,

  Dismiss them not disconsolate; reveal

  To Adam what shall come in future days,

  115 As I shall thee enlighten; intermix

  My cov’nant in the woman’s seed renewed;

  So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace:

  And on the east side of the garden place,

  Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs,

  120 Cherubic watch, and of a sword the flame

  Wide waving, all approach far off to fright,

  And guard all passage to the Tree of Life:

  Lest Paradise a réceptácle prove

  To Spirits foul, and all my trees their prey,

  125 With whose stol’n fruit man once more to delude.

  He ceased; and th’ Archangelic Power prepared

  For swift descent, with him the cohort bright

  Of watchful Cherubim; four faces each

  Had, like a double Janus, all their shape

  130 Spangled with eyes more numerous than those

  Of Argus, and more wakeful than to drowse,

  Charmed with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed

  Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Meanwhile

  To resalute the world with sacred light

  135 Leucothea waked, and with fresh dews embalmed

  The earth, when Adam and first matron Eve

  Had ended now their orisons, and found

  Strength added from above, new hope to spring

  Out of despair, joy, but with fear yet linked;

  140 Which thus to Eve his welcome words renewed.

  Eve, easily may faith admit, that all

  The good which we enjoy from Heav’n descends;

  But that from us aught should ascend to Heav’n

  So prevalent as to concern the mind

  145 Of God high-blest, or to incline his will,

  Hard to belief may seem; yet this will prayer,

  Or one short sigh of human breath upborne

  Ev’n to the seat of God. For since I sought

  By prayer th’ offended Deity to appease,

  150 Kneeled and before him humbled all my heart,

  Methought I saw him placable and mild,

  Bending his ear; persuasion in me grew

  That I was heard with favour; peace returned

  Home to my breast, and to my memory

  155 His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our Foe;

  Which then not minded in dismay, yet now

  Assures me that the bitterness of death

  Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee,

  Eve rightly called, mother of all mankind,

  160 Mother of all things living, since by thee

  Man is to live, and all things live for man.

  To whom thus Eve with sad demeanour meek.

  Ill worthy I such title should belong

  To me transgressor, who for thee ordained

  165 A help, became thy snare; to me reproach

  Rather belongs, distrust and all dispraise:

  But infinite in pardon was my Judge,

  That I who first brought death on all, am graced

  The source of life; next favourable thou,

  170 Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf’st,

  Far other name deserving. But the field

  To labour calls us now with sweat imposed,

  Though after sleepless night; for see the Morn,

  All unconcerned with our unrest, begins

  175 Her rosy progress smiling; let us forth,

  I never from thy side henceforth to stray,

  Where’er our day’s work lies, though now enjoined

  Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell,

  What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks?

  180 Here let us live, though in fall’n state, content.

  So spake, so wished much-humbled Eve, but Fate

  Subscribed not; Nature first gave signs, impressed

  On bird, beast, air, air suddenly eclipsed

  After short blush of morn; nigh in her sight

  185 The bird of Jove, stooped from his airy tow’r,

  Two birds of gayest plume before him drove:

  Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods,

  First hunter then, pursued a
gentle brace,

  Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind;

  190 Direct to th’ eastern gate was bent their flight.

  Adam observed, and with his eye the chase

  Pursuing, not unmoved to Eve thus spake.

  O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh,

  Which Heav’n by these mute signs in Nature shows

  195 Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn

  Us haply too secure of our discharge

  From penalty, because from death released

  Some days; how long, and what till then our life,

  Who knows, or more than this, that we are dust,

  200 And thither must return and be no more.

  Why else this double object in our sight

  Of flight pursued in th’ air and o’er the ground

  One way the self-same hour? Why in the east

  Darkness ere day’s mid-course, and morning light

  205 More orient in yon western cloud that draws

  O’er the blue firmament a radiant white,

  And slow descends, with something Heav’nly fraught.

  He erred not, for by this the Heav’nly bands

  Down from a sky of jasper lighted now

  210 In Paradise, and on a hill made halt,

  A glorious apparition, had not doubt

  And carnal fear that day dimmed Adam’s eye.

  Not that more glorious, when the angels met

  Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw

  215 The field pavilioned with his guardians bright;

  Nor that which on the flaming mount appeared

  In Dothan, covered with a camp of fire,

  Against the Syrian king, who to surprise

  One man, assassin-like had levied war,

  220 War unproclaimed. The princely hierarch

  In their bright stand, there left his powers to seize

  Possession of the garden; he alone,

  To find where Adam sheltered, took his way,

  Not unperceived of Adam, who to Eve,

  225 While the great visitant approached, thus spake.

  Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps

  Of us will soon determine, or impose

  New laws to be observed; for I descry

  From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill

  230 One of the Heav’nly host, and by his gait

  None of the meanest, some great Potentate

  Or of the Thrones above, such majesty

  Invests him coming; yet not terrible,

  That I should fear, nor sociably mild,

  235 As Raphael, that I should much confide,

  But solemn and sublime, whom not to offend,

  With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.

  He ended; and th’ Archangel soon drew nigh,

  Not in his shape celestial, but as man

  240 Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms

  A military vest of purple flowed

  Livelier than Meliboean, or the grain

  Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old

  In time of truce; Iris had dipped the woof;

  245 His starry helm unbuckled showed him prime

  In manhood where youth ended; by his side

  As in a glistering zodiac hung the sword,

  Satan’s dire dread, and in his hand the spear.

  Adam bowed low; he kingly from his state

  250 Inclined not, but his coming thus declared.

  Adam, Heav’n’s high behest no preface needs:

  Sufficient that thy prayers are heard, and Death,

  Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress,

  Defeated of his seizure many days

  255 Giv’n thee of grace, wherein thou may’st repent,

  And one bad act with many deeds well done

  May’st cover: well may then thy Lord appeased

  Redeem thee quite from Death’s rapacious claim;

  But longer in this Paradise to dwell

  260 Permits not; to remove thee I am come,

  And send thee from the garden forth to till

  The ground whence thou wast taken, fitter soil.

  He added not, for Adam at the news

  Heart-strook with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,

  265 That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen

  Yet all had heard, with audible lament

  Discovered soon the place of her retire.

  O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death!

  Must I thus leave thee Paradise? thus leave

  270 Thee native soil, these happy walks and shades,

  Fit haunt of gods? where I had hope to spend,

  Quiet though sad, the respite of that day

  That must be mortal to us both. O flow’rs,

  That never will in other climate grow,

  275 My early visitation, and my last

  At ev’n, which I bred up with tender hand

  From the first op’ning bud, and gave ye names,

  Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank

  Your tribes, and water from th’ ambrosial fount?

  280 Thee lastly nuptial bower, by me adorned

  With what to sight or smell was sweet; from thee

  How shall I part, and whither wander down

  Into a lower world, to this obscure

  And wild, how shall we breathe in other air

  285 Less pure, accustomed to immortal fruits?

  Whom thus the angel interrupted mild.

  Lament not Eve, but patiently resign

  What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart,

  Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine;

  290 Thy going is not lonely, with thee goes

  Thy husband, him to follow thou art bound;

  Where he abides, think there thy native soil.

  Adam by this from the cold sudden damp

  Recovering, and his scattered spirits returned,

  295 To Michael thus his humble words addressed.

  Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or named

  Of them the highest, for such of shape may seem

  Prince above princes, gently hast thou told

  Thy message, which might else in telling wound,

  300 And in performing end us; what besides

  Of sorrow and dejection and despair

  Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring,

  Departure from this happy place, our sweet

  Recess, and only consolation left

  305 Familiar to our eyes, all places else

  Inhospitable appear and desolate,

  Nor knowing us nor known: and if by prayer

  Incessant I could hope to change the will

  Of him who all things can, I would not cease

  310 To weary him with my assiduous cries:

  But prayer against his absolute decree

  No more avails than breath against the wind,

  Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth:

  Therefore to his great bidding I submit.

  315 This most afflicts me, that departing hence,

  As from his face I shall be hid, deprived

  His blessèd count’nance; here I could frequent,

  With worship, place by place where he vouchsafed

  Presence divine, and to my sons relate;

  320 On this mount he appeared, under this tree

  Stood visible, among these pines his voice

  I heard, here with him at this fountain talked:

  So many grateful altars I would rear

  Of grassy turf, and pile up every stone

  325 Of lustre from the brook, in memory,

  Or monument to ages, and thereon

  Offer sweet smelling gums and fruits and flow’rs:

  In yonder nether world where shall I seek

  His bright appearances, or footstep trace?

  330 For though I fled him angry, yet recalled

  To life prolonged and promised race, I now

  G
ladly behold though but his utmost skirts

  Of glory, and far off his steps adore.

  To whom thus Michael with regard benign.

  335 Adam, thou know’st Heav’n his, and all the earth,

  Not this rock only; his omnipresence fills

  Land, sea, and air, and every kind that lives,

  Fomented by his virtual power and warmed:

  All th’ earth he gave thee to possess and rule,

  340 No deéspicáble gift; surmise not then

  His presence to these narrow bounds confined

  Of Paradise or Eden: this had been

  Perhaps thy capital seat, from whence had spread

  All generations, and had hither come

  345 From all the ends of th’ earth, to celebrate

  And reverence thee their great progenitor.

  But this pre-eminence thou hast lost, brought down

  To dwell on even ground now with thy sons:

  Yet doubt not but in valley and in plain

  350 God is as here, and will be found alike

  Present, and of his presence many a sign

  Still following thee, still compassing thee round

  With goodness and paternal love, his face

  Express, and of his steps the track divine.

  355 Which that thou may’st believe, and be confirmed

  Ere thou from hence depart, know I am sent

  To show thee what shall come in future days

  To thee and to thy offspring; good with bad

  Expect to hear, supernal grace contending

  360 With sinfulness of men; thereby to learn

  True patience, and to temper joy with fear

  And pious sorrow, equally inured

  By moderation either state to bear,

  Prosperous or adverse: so shalt thou lead

  365 Safest thy life, and best prepared endure

  Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend

  This hill; let Eve (for I have drenched her eyes)

  Here sleep below while thou to foresight wak’st,

  As once thou slept’st, while she to life was formed.

  370 To whom thus Adam gratefully replied.

  Ascend, I follow thee, safe guide, the path

  Thou lead’st me, and to the hand of Heav’n submit,

  However chast’ning, to the evil turn

  My obvious breast, arming to overcome

  375 By suffering, and earn rest from labour won,

  If so I may attain. So both ascend

  In the visions of God; it was a hill

  Of Paradise the highest, from whose top

  The hemisphere of earth in clearest ken

  380 Stretched out to the amplest reach of prospect lay.

  Not higher that hill nor wider looking round,

  Whereon for different cause the Tempter set

  Our second Adam in the wilderness,

  To show him all earth’s kingdoms and their glory.

  385 His eye might there command wherever stood