Mean while in utmost longitude, where heav'n
With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun
Slowly descended, and with right aspect
Against the eastern gate of paradise
Level'd his ev'ning rays: it was a rock
Of alablaster, pil'd up to the clouds,
Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent
Accessible from earth, one entrance high;
The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung
Still as it rose, impossible to climb.
Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel sat,
Chief of the angelic guards, awaiting night; 550
About him exercis'd heroic games
Th' unarmed youth of heav'n; but nigh at hand
Celestial armoury, shields, helms, and spears,
Hung high with diamond flaming and with gold.
Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even 555
On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star
In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fir'd
Impress the air, and show the mariner
From what point of his compass to beware
Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste.
542 eastern] The sun setting shined on the eastern gate; 'tis well it was higher than all the rest of Paradise.'
544 alablaster] Thus spelt in both Milton's own editions. 554 with diamond] See Prose Works, 1. 232. (Apol. for Smectymnus.) Their zeal, whose substance is ethereal, arming in complete diamond.'
558 as a shooting] See Dante Il Paradiso, c. xv. 16.
E pare stella, che tramuti loco.
Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath giv'n Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place No evil thing approach or enter in :
This day at highth of noon came to my sphere
A spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know
More of the Almighty's works, and chiefly man
God's latest image: I describ'd his way
Bent all on speed, and mark'd his aery gait :
But in the mount that lies from Eden north,
Where he first lighted, soon discern'd his looks 57c
Alien from heav'n, with passions foul obscur'd:
Mine eye pursu'd him still, but under shade
Lost sight of him; one of the banish'd crew,
I fear, hath ventur'd from the deep to raise
New troubles; him thy care must be to find. 575
To whom the winged warrior thus return'd:
Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight,
Amid the sun's bright circle where thou sitt'st,
See far and wide: in at this gate none pass
The vigilance here plac'd, but such as come
Well known from heav'n; and since meridian hour
No creature thence. If spirit of other sort,
561 to thee] It has been proposed to read these lines with the insertion of a parenthesis:
'Gabriel (to thee thy course by lot hath given
Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place
No evil thing approach or enter in)
This day at highth of noon,' &c.
567 describ'd] Some read descry'd.' Newton.
576 winged] See Marino's Sl. of the Innocents, p. 23. (Transl.)
Shining troops of winged armies ride.
So minded, have o'erleap'd these earthy bounds
On purpose, hard thou know'st it to exclude
Spiritual substance with corporeal bar.
But if within the circuit of these walks
In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom
Thou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know.
So promis'd he, and Uriel to his charge
Return'd on that bright beam, whose point now rais'd
Bore him slope downward to the sun, now fall'n
Beneath th' Azores; whether the prime orb,
Incredible how swift, had thither roll'd
Diurnal, or this less volubil earth,
By shorter flight to th' east, had left him there, 595
Arraying with reflected purple and gold
The clouds that on his western throne attend.
Now came still evening on, and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad;
Silence accompany'd; for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale;
She all night long her amorous descant sung;
Silence was pleas'd: now glow'd the firmament
592 whether] whither.' Milton's own ed.
594 volubil] volúbil,' with the second syllable long, as in the Latin volubilis; when it is short, Milton writes it 'voluble.' Newton.
599 livery] Fletch. P. Isl. vi. st. 54.
'The world late clothed in night's black livery.' Todd. 600 Silence] See this personification in Beaumont's Psyche, c. vi. st. 174. 'Silence for porter stood. c. xix. st. 160. Whilst Silence sate upon his lips.'
602 all but] Not all. Owls. Bubones. Bentl. MS.
With living saphirs; Hesperus that led
The starry host rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length
Apparent queen unvail'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
When Adam thus to Eve: Fair consort, th' hour
Of night and all things now retir'd to rest
Mind us of like repose, since God hath set
Labour and rest, as day and night, to men
Successive, and the timely dew of sleep
Now falling with soft slumbrous weight inclines
Our eyelids other creatures all day long
Rove idle, unemploy'd, and less need rest:
Man hath his daily work of body or mind
Appointed, which declares his dignity,
And the regard of heaven on all his ways;
While other animals unactive range,
And of their doings GoD takes no account.
To-morrow ere fresh morning streak the east
With first approach of light we must be ris'n,
And at our pleasant labour, to reform
Yon flowery arbours, yonder allies green,
Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown,
That mock our scant manuring, and require
More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth:
Those blossoms also and those dropping gums, 630
That lie bestrown unsightly and unsmooth,
627 walk] In the first ed. 'walks.' Newton.
629 manuring] This is to be understood as in the French manœuvre, or working with hands. Richardson.
Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease: Mean while, as nature wills, night bids us rest.
To whom thus Eve with perfect beauty adorn'd. My author and disposer, what thou bidd'st Unargu'd I obey, so GoD ordains;
GOD is thy law, thou mine; to know no more
Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise.
With thee conversing I forget all time,
All seasons and their change, all please alike: 640
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet.
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glist'ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth 645
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful ev'uing mild; then silent night
With this her solemn bird and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heav'n, her starry train :
But neither breath of morn when she ascends 650
With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun
On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glist'ring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful evening mild, nor silent night;
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon,
Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet.
But wherefore all night long shine these? for
whom
This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?
To whom our general ancestor reply'd.
Daughter of GoD and man, accomplish'd Eve, 660
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