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    Chapter 8

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    Chapter 8
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    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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