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    Chapter 5

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    Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
    Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,
    When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep
    Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred,
    And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound
    Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
    Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song
    Of birds on every bough; so much the more
    His wonder was to find unwakened Eve
    With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek,
    As through unquiet rest: He, on his side
    Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love
    Hung over her enamoured, and beheld
    Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
    Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice
    Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
    Her hand soft touching, whispered thus. Awake,
    My fairest, my espoused, my latest found,
    Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight!
    Awake: The morning shines, and the fresh field
    Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring
    Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove,
    What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,
    How nature paints her colours, how the bee
    Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.
    Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye
    On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake.
    O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose,
    My glory, my perfection! glad I see
    Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night
    (Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed,
    If dreamed, not, as I oft am wont, of thee,
    Works of day past, or morrow's next design,
    But of offence and trouble, which my mind
    Knew never till this irksome night: Methought,
    Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk
    With gentle voice; I thought it thine: It said,
    'Why sleepest thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time,
    'The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
    'To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
    'Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song; now reigns
    'Full-orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light
    'Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain,
    'If none regard; Heaven wakes with all his eyes,
    'Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire?
    'In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment
    'Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.'
    I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;
    To find thee I directed then my walk;

    And on, methought, alone I passed through ways
    That brought me on a sudden to the tree
    Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seemed,
    Much fairer to my fancy than by day:
    And, as I wondering looked, beside it stood
    One shaped and winged like one of those from Heaven
    By us oft seen; his dewy locks distilled
    Ambrosia; on that tree he also gazed;
    And 'O fair plant,' said he, 'with fruit surcharged,
    'Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet,
    'Nor
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