Puslapio vaizdai

All these and more came flocking; but with looks
Down-cast and damp; yet such wherein appear'd
Obscure some glimpse of joy, to' have found their chief
Not in despair, to' have found themselves not lost
In loss itself; which on his countenance cast
Like doubtful hue: but he, his wonted pride
Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore
Semblance of worth, not substance, gently rais'd
Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears.
Then straight commands, that at the warlike sound
Of trumpets loud and clarions be up-rear'd
His mighty standard: that proud honor claim'd
Azazel as his right, a cherub tall;

Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl'd
The' imperial ensign; which, full high advanc'd,
Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind,
With gems and golden lustre rich imblaz'd,
Seraphic arms and trophies; all the while
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds:
At which the universal host up-sent

A shout, that tore hell's concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night:
All in a moment through the gloom were seen
Ten thousand banners rise into the air
With orient colors waving; with them rose
A forest huge of spears; and thronging helms
Appear'd, and serried shields in thick array
Of depth immeasurable: anon they move
In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood
Of flutes and soft recorders; such as rais'd
To height of noblest temper heroes old
Arming to battle; and instead of rage
Deliberate valor breath'd, firm and unmov'd
With dread of death to flight or foul retreat;
Nor wanting power to mitigate and 'suage
With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase
Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow', and pain,
From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they
Breathing united force, with fixed thought,
Mov'd on in silence to soft pipes, that charm'd
Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil: and now
Advanc'd in view they stand: a horrid front
Of dreadful length and dazzling arms. in guise
Of warriors old with order'd spear and shield;
Awaiting what command their mighty chief
Had to impose:-he through the armed files
Darts his experienc'd eye, and soon traverse
The whole battalion views; their order due;

Distends with pride, and hardening in his strength
Glories: for never since created man

Met such imbodied force, as nam'd with these
Could merit more than that small infantry

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Compare of mortal prowess yet observ'd
Their dread commander: he, above the rest
In shape and gesture proudly eminent,
Stood like a tower: his form had yet not lost
All her original brightness; nor appear'd
Less than archangel ruin'd and the' excess
Of glory obscur'u; as when the sun, new risen,
Looks through the horizontal misty air
Shorn of his beams: or from behind the moon,
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd so, yet shone
Above them all the' archangel: but his face
Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd; and care
Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows
Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride
Waiting r venge: ruel his eye, but cast
Signs of remorse and passion, to behold
The fellows of his crime, the followers rather,
(Far other once beheld in bliss,) condemn'd
For ever now to have their lot in pain;
Millions of spirits for his fault amerc'd
Of Heaven, and from eternal splendors flung
For his revolt, yet faithful how they stood,
Their glory wither'd: as when heaven's fire
Hath scath'd the forest oaks, or mountain pines,
With singed top to their stately growth, though bare,
Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepar'd
To speak whereat, their doubled ranks they bend
From wing to wing, and half enclose him round
With all his peers: attention held them mute.
Thrice he essay'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn,
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth: at last,
Words, interwove with sighs, found out their way.



To re-salute the world with sacred light,

Leucothea wak'd and with fresh dews embalm'd



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, jpy, but with fear yet link'd;
Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd:

"Eve, easily may faith admit that all

The good which we enjoy from heaven descends;
But that from us ought should ascend to heaven
So prevalent as to concern the mind

Of God high-bless'd, or to incline his will
Hard to believe may seem; yet this will prayer
Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne
Even to the seat of God. For since I sought
By prayer th' offended Deity t' appease,
Kneel'd, 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 return'd
Home to my breast and to my memory

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 call'd, mother of all mankind,
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 ordain'd
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 grac'd
The source of life; next favourable thou,
Who highly thus to' entitle me vouchsaf'st,
Far other name deserving. But the field
To labour calls us now, with sweat impos'd
Though after sleepless night; for, see! the morn,
All unconcern'd with our unrest, begins
Her rosy progress smiling; let us forth,
I never from thy side henceforth to stray,
Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoin'd
Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell,
What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks?
Here let us live, though in fallen state, content."

So spake, so wish'd much humbled Eve, but fate

On bird, beast, air; air suddenly eclips'd
After short blush of morn; nigh in her sight
The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour,
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove :
Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods,
First hunter then, pursu'd a gentle brace,
Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind;
Direct to th' eastern gate was bent their flight.
Adam observ'd, and with his eye the chase
Pursuing, not unmov'd, to Eve thus spake.

"O Eve! some further change awaits us nigh, Which heaven by these mute signs in nature shows, Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn

Us, haply too secure of our discharge

From penalty, because from death releas'd
Some days; how long, and what 'till then our life,
Who knows? Or more than this that we are dust,
And thither must return and be no more?
Why else this double object in our sight

Of flight pursu'd 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
More orient in yon western cloud, that draws
O'er the blue firmament a radiant white,

And slow descends, with something heavenly fraught?"

He err'd not, for by this the heavenly bands
Down from a sky of jasper lighted now
In Paradise, and on a hill made halt;
A glorious apparition, had not doubt

And carnal fear, that day dimm'd Adam's eye.
Not that more glorious, when the angels met
Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw
The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright;
Nor that which on the flaming mount appear'd
In Dothan, covered with a camp of fire,
Against the Syrian king, who to surprise
One man, assassin like, had levied war,
War unproclaim'd. The princely hierarch
In their bright stand there lett his powers to seize
Possession of the garden; he alone,

To find where Adam sheltered, took his way,

Not unperceiv'd of Adam, who to Eve,

While the great visitant approach'd, thus spake:

"Eve! now expect great tidings, which perhaps
Of us will soon determine, or impose
New laws to be observ'd; for I descry
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill,

One of the heavenly 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,
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 the' archangel soon drew nigh, Not in his shape celestial, but as man Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms A military vest of purple flow'd, Livelier than Melibœan, or the grain Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old In time of truce; Iris had dipp'd the woof; His starry helin, unbuckled, show'd 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 bow'd low; he kingly, from his state Inclin'd not, but his coming thus declar'd:

"Adam! heaven'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

Given 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, appeas'd,
Redeem the quite from death's rapacious claim;
But longer in this Paradise to dwell

Permits not; to remove thec 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-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,
That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen,
Yet all had heard, with audible lamen
Discover'd soon the place of her retire.

"O unexpected stroke, worse than of death! Must I thus leave thee, paradise? thus leave Thee, native soil! these happy walks and shades,

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