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With heav'nly spoils, our spoils: what he decreed
He effected; man he made, and for him built
Magnificent this world, and earth his feat,
Him lord pronounc'd, and, O indignitie !
Subjected to his fervice angel wings,
And flaming ministers to watch and tend
Their earthie charge of these the vigilance
I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist
Of midnight vapour glide obscure, and prie
-In every bush and brake, where hap may find
The ferpent fleeping, in whofe mazie foulds
To hide me, and the dark intent I bring.
O foul descent! that I who erft contended
With gods to fit the highest, am now constrain'd
Into a beaft, and mixt with bestial slime,

This effence to incarnate and imbrute,
That to the highth of deitie afpir'd;

But what will not ambition and revenge
Defcend to? who afpires must down as low
As high he foar'd, obnoxious first or laft

To bafest things. Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoiles ;

Let it ;
I reck not, fo it light well aim'd;
Since higher I fall short, on him who next
Provokes my envie, this new favourite
Of heav'n, this man of clay, fon of despite,
Whom us the more to fpite his maker rais'd
From duft: fpite then with spite is best repaid.
So faying, through each thicket dank or drie,
Like a black mift low creeping, he held on
His midnight search, where soonest he might find

The serpent: him fast sleeping soon he found
In labyrinth of many a round self rowl'd,

His head the midft, well ftor'd with futtle wiles :
Not yet in horrid shade or difmal den,
Nor nocent yet, but on the graffie herb
Fearless unfear'd he slept in at his mouth
The devil enter'd, and his brutal sense,
In heart or head, poffeffing foon inspir'd`
With act intelligential; but his fleep
Disturb'd not, waiting close th'approach of morn.
Now when as facred light began to dawn

In Eden on the humid flours, that breath'd

Their morning incenfe, when all things that breathe,
From th’earth's great altar send up filent praise
To the creator, and his noftrils fill
With grateful smell, forth came the human pair
And join'd their vocal worship to the quire
Of creatures wanting voice, that done, partake
The feason, prime for sweetest fcents and aires :
Then commune how that day they beft may ply
Their growing work: for much their work outgrew
The hands difpatch of two gardning so wide.
And Eve first to her husband thus began.

Adam, well may we labour still to dress
This garden, still to tend plant, herb and flour,
Our pleasant task enjoyn'd, but till more hands
Aid us, the work under our labour grows,
Luxurious by restraint; what we by day
Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind,
One night or two with wanton growth derides
Tending to wilde. Thou therefore now advise

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Or hear what to my mind first thoughts present,
Let us divide our labours, thou where choice
Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind
The woodbine round this arbour, or direct
The clasping ivie where to climb, while I
In younder fpring of roses intermixt

With myrtle, find what to redress till noon:
For while fo near each other thus all day
Our task we choose, what wonder if so near
Looks intervene and fmiles, or object new
Cafual difcourfe draw on, which intermits
Our days work brought to little, though begun
Early, and th'hour of supper comes unearn'd.
To whom mild answer Adam thus return'd.
Sole Eve, affociate fole, to me beyond
Compare above all living creatures deare,

Well haft thou motion'd, well thy thoughts imploy'd
How we might best fulfil the work which here
God hath affign'd us, nor of me fhalt pass
Unprais'd: for nothing lovelier can be found
In woman, than to studie houshold good,
And good works in her husband to promote.
Yet not fo strictly hath our Lord impos'd
Labour, as to debar us when we need
Refreshment, whether food, or talk between,
Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse
Of looks and smiles, for fmiles from reason flow,
To brute deni'd, and are of love the food,
Love not the lowest end of human life.
For not to irkfom toil, but to delight
He made us, and delight to reason join’d.

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Thefe paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands
Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide
As we need walk, till younger hands ere long
Affift us: but if much converse perhaps
Thee fatiate, to short abfence I could yield.
For folitude fometimes is best societie,
And short retirement urges fweet return.
But other doubt poffeffes me, least harm
Befall thee fever'd from me; for thou know'ft
What hath been warn'd us, what malicious foe
Envying our happiness, and of his own
Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame
By fly affault; and somewhere nigh at hand
Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find
His wish and beft advantage, us afunder,
Hopeless to circumvent us join'd, where each
To other speedie aid might lend at need;
Whether his first design be to withdraw
Our fealtie from God, or to disturb
Conjugal love, than which perhaps no bliss
Enjoy'd by us excites his envie more;
Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful fide
That gave thee being, still shades thee and protects.
The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks,

Safest and seemliest by her husband staies,
Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
To whom the virgin majestie of Eve,

As one who loves, and some unkindness meets,
With sweet aufteer composure thus reply'd.

Off-spring of heav'n and earth, and all earth's lord, That fuch an enemie we have, who seeks

Our ruin, both by thee inform'd I learn,
And from the parting angel over-heard
As in a fhadie nook I ftood behind,

Just then return'd at shut of evening flours.
But that thou shouldft my firmness therefore doubt
To God or thee, because we have a foe
May tempt it, I expected not to hear.
His violence thou fearft not, being such,
As we, not capable of death or paine,
Can either not receave, or can repell.
His fraud is then thy fear, which plain inferrs
Thy equal fear that my firm faith and love
Can by his fraud be shak'n or seduc't;

Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy breast,
Adam, missthought of her to thee so dear?

To whom with healing words Adam repli'd; Daughter of God and man, immortal Eve, For fuch thou art, from fin and blame intire; Not diffident of thee do I diffuade

Thy abfence from my fight, but to avoid

Th'attempt itself, intended by our foe.

For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperfes
The tempted with difhonour foul, fuppos'd
Not incorruptible of faith, not proof

Against temptation: thou thyself with scorn
And anger wouldft refent the offer'd wrong,
Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then,
If fuch affront I labour to avert

From thee alone, which on us both at once
The enemie, though bold, will hardly dare,
Or daring, first on me th'affault shall light.

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