Paradise Lost: Book VIII (1674)

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Adam inquires concerning celestial Motions, is doubtfully answer'd, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of knowledg: Adam assents, and still desirous to detain Raphael, relates to him what he remember'd since his own Creation, his placing in Paradise, his talk with God concerning solitude and fit society, his first meeting and Nuptuals with Eve, his discourse with the Angel thereupon; who after admonitions repeated departs.

THE Angel ended, and in Adams EareSo Charming left his voice, that he a whileThought him still speaking, still stood fixt to hear;Then as new wak't thus gratefully repli'd.What thanks sufficient, or what recompenceEqual have I to render thee, DivineHystorian, who thus largely hast allaydThe thirst I had of knowledge, and voutsaf'tThis friendly condescention to relateThings else by me unsearchable, now heardWith wonder, but delight, and, as is due,With glorie attributed to the highCreator; something yet of doubt remaines,Which onely thy solution can resolve.When I behold this goodly Frame, this WorldOf Heav'n and Earth consisting, and compute,Thir magnitudes, this Earth a spot, a graine,An Atom, with the Firmament compar'dAnd all her numberd Starrs, that seem to rowleSpaces incomprehensible (for suchThir distance argues and thir swift returnDiurnal) meerly to officiate lightRound this opacous Earth, this punctual spot,One day and night; in all thir vast surveyUseless besides, reasoning I oft admire,How Nature wise and frugal could commitSuch disproportions, with superfluous handSo many nobler Bodies to create,Greater so manifold to this one use,For aught appeers, and on thir Orbs imposeSuch restless revolution day by dayRepeated, while the sedentarie Earth,That better might with farr less compass move,Serv'd by more noble then her self, attainesHer end without least motion, and receaves,As Tribute such a sumless journey broughtOf incorporeal speed, her warmth and light;Speed, to describe whose swiftness Number failes.

So spake our Sire, and by his count'nance seemdEntring on studious thoughts abstruse, which EvePerceaving where she sat retir'd in sight,With lowliness Majestic from her seat,And Grace that won who saw to wish her stay,Rose, and went forth among her Fruits and Flours,To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom,Her Nurserie; they at her coming sprungAnd toucht by her fair tendance gladlier grew.Yet went she not, as not with such discourseDelighted, or not capable her eareOf what was high: such pleasure she reserv'd,Adam relating, she sole Auditress;Her Husband the Relater she preferr'dBefore the Angel, and of him to askChose rather; hee, she knew would intermixGrateful digressions, and solve high disputeWith conjugal Caresses, from his LipNot Words alone pleas'd her. O when meet nowSuch pairs, in Love and mutual Honour joyn'd?With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went;Not unattended, for on her as QueenA pomp of winning Graces waited still,And from about her shot Darts of desireInto all Eyes to wish her still in sight.And Raphael now to Adam's doubt propos'dBenevolent and facil thus repli'd.

To ask or search I blame thee not, for Heav'nIs as the Book of God before thee set,Wherein to read his wondrous Works, and learneHis Seasons, Hours, or Dayes, or Months, or Yeares:This to attain, whether Heav'n move or Earth,Imports not, if thou reck'n right, the restFrom Man or Angel the great ArchitectDid wisely to conceal, and not divulgeHis secrets to be scann'd by them who oughtRather admire; or if they list to tryConjecture, he his Fabric of the Heav'nsHath left to thir disputes, perhaps to moveHis laughter at thir quaint Opinions wideHereafter, when they come to model Heav'nAnd calculate the Starrs, how they will weildThe mightie frame, how build, unbuild, contriveTo save appeerances, how gird the SphearWith Centric and Eccentric scribl'd o're,Cycle and Epicycle, Orb in Orb:Alreadie by thy reasoning this I guess,Who art to lead thy ofspring, and supposestThat bodies bright and greater should not serveThe less not bright, nor Heav'n such journies run,Earth sitting still, when she alone receavesThe benefit: consider first, that GreatOr Bright inferrs not Excellence: the EarthThough, in comparison of Heav'n, so small,Nor glistering, may of solid good containeMore plenty then the Sun that barren shinesWhose vertue on it self workes no effect,But in the fruitful Earth; there first receavdHis beams, unactive else, thir vigour find.Yet not to Earth are those bright LuminariesOfficious, but to thee Earths habitant.And for the Heav'ns wide Circuit, let it speakThe Makers high magnificence, who builtSo spacious, and his Line stretcht out so farr;That Man may know he dwells not in his own;An Edifice too large for him to fill,Lodg'd in a small partition, and the restOrdain'd for uses to his Lord best known.The swiftness of those Circles attributeThough numberless, to his Omnipotence,That to corporeal substances could addeSpeed almost Spiritual; mee thou thinkst not slow,Who since the Morning hour set out from Heav'nWhere God resides, and ere mid-day arriv'dIn Eden, distance inexpressibleBy Numbers that have name. But this I urge,Admitting Motion in the Heav'ns, to shewInvalid that which thee to doubt it mov'd;Not that I so affirm, though so it seemTo thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth.God to remove his wayes from human sense,Plac'd Heav'n from Earth so farr, that earthly sight,If it presume, might erre in things too high,And no advantage gaine. What if the SunBe Center to the World, and other StarrsBy his attractive vertue and thir ownIncited, dance about him various rounds?Thir wandring course now high, now low, then hid,Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,In six thou seest, and what if sev'nth to theseThe Planet Earth, so stedfast though she seem,Insensibly three different Motions move?Which else to several Sphears thou must ascribe,Mov'd contrarie with thwart obliquities,Or save the Sun his labour, and that swiftNocturnal and Diurnal rhomb suppos'd,Invisible else above all Starrs, the WheeleOf Day and Night; which needs not thy beleefe,If Earth industrious of her self fetch DayTravelling East, and with her part averseFrom the Suns beam meet Night, her other partStill luminous by his ray. What if that lightSent from her through the wide transpicuous aire,To the terrestrial Moon be as a StarrEnlightning her by Day, as she by NightThis Earth? reciprocal, if Land be there,Feilds and Inhabitants: Her spots thou seestAs Clouds, and Clouds may rain, and Rain produceFruits in her soft'nd Soile, for some to eateAllotted there; and other Suns perhapsWith thir attendant Moons thou wilt descrieCommunicating Male and Femal Light,Which two great Sexes animate the World,Stor'd in each Orb perhaps with some that live.For such vast room in Nature unpossestBy living Soule, desert and desolate,Onely to shine, yet scarce to contributeEach Orb a glimps of Light, conveyd so farrDown to this habitable, which returnesLight back to them, is obvious to dispute.But whether thus these things, or whether not,Whether the Sun predominant in Heav'nRise on the Earth, or Earth rise on the SunHee from the East his flaming rode begin,Or Shee from West her silent course advanceWith inoffensive pace that spinning sleepsOn her soft Axle, while she paces Eev'n,And beares thee soft with the smooth Air along,Sollicit not thy thoughts with matters hid,Leave them to God above, him serve and feare;Of other Creatures, as him pleases best,Wherever plac't, let him dispose: joy thouIn what he gives to thee, this ParadiseAnd thy faire Eve; Heav'n is for thee too highTo know what passes there; be lowlie wise:.Think onely what concernes thee and thy being;Dream not of other Worlds, what Creatures thereLive, in what state, condition or degree,Contented that thus farr hath been reveal'dNot of Earth onely but of highest Heav'n.

To whom thus Adam cleerd of doubt, repli'd.How fully hast thou satisfi'd mee, pureIntelligence of Heav'n, Angel serene,And freed from intricacies, taught to live,The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughtsTo interrupt the sweet of Life, from whichGod hath bid dwell farr off all anxious cares,And not molest us, unless we our selvesSeek them with wandring thoughts, and notions vain.But apt the Mind or Fancie is to roaveUncheckt, and of her roaving is no end;Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learne,That not to know at large of things remoteFrom use, obscure and suttle, but to knowThat 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 concerneUnpractis'd, unprepar'd, and still to seek.Therefore from this high pitch let us descendA lower flight, and speak of things at handUseful, whence haply mention may ariseOf somthing not unseasonable to askBy sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign'd.Thee I have heard relating what was donEre my remembrance: now hear mee relateMy Storie, which perhaps thou hast not heard;And Day is yet not spent; till then thou seestHow suttly to detaine 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 Heav'n,And sweeter thy discourse is to my eareThen Fruits of Palm-tree pleasantest to thirstAnd hunger both, from labour, at the houreOf sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill,Though pleasant, but thy words with Grace DivineImbu'd, bring to thir sweetness no satietie.To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek.

Nor are thy lips ungraceful, Sire of men,Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on theeAbundantly his gifts hath also pour'dInward and outward both, his image faire:Speaking or mute all comliness and graceAttends thee, and each word, each motion formes,Nor less think wee in Heav'n of thee on EarthThen of our fellow servant, and inquireGladly into the wayes of God with Man:For God we see hath honour'd thee, and setOn Man his Equal Love: say therefore on;For I that Day was absent, as befell,Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure,Farr on excursion toward the Gates of Hell;Squar'd in full Legion (such command we had)To see that none thence issu'd forth a spie,Or enemie, while God was in his work,Least hee incenst at such eruption bold,Destruction with Creation might have mixt.Not that they durst without his leave attempt,But us he sends upon his high behestsFor state, as Sovran King, and to enureOur prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shutThe dismal Gates, and barricado'd strong;But long ere our approaching heard withinNoise, other then the sound of Dance or Song,Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage.Glad we return'd up to the coasts of LightEre Sabbath Eev'ning: so we had in charge.But thy relation now; for I attend,Pleas'd with thy words no less then thou with mine.

So spake the Godlike Power, and thus our Sire.For Man to tell how human Life beganIs hard; for who himself beginning knew?Desire with thee still longer to converseInduc'd me. As new wak't from soundest sleepSoft on the flourie herb I found me laidIn Balmie Sweat, which with his Beames the SunSoon dri'd, and on the reaking moisture fed.Strait toward Heav'n my wondring Eyes I turnd,And gaz'd a while the ample Skie, till rais'dBy quick instinctive motion up I sprung,As thitherward endevoring, and uprightStood on my feet; about me round I sawHill, Dale, and shadie Woods, and sunnie Plaines,And liquid Lapse of murmuring Streams; by these,Creatures that livd, and movd, and walk'd, or flew,Birds on the branches warbling; all things smil'd,With fragrance and with joy my heart oreflow'd.My self I then perus'd, and Limb by LimbSurvey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ranWith supple joints, and lively vigour led:But who I was, or where, or from what cause,Knew not; to speak I tri'd, and forthwith spakeMy Tongue obey'd and readily could nameWhat e're I saw. Thou Sun, said I, faire Light,And thou enlight'nd Earth, so fresh and gay,Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods, and Plaines,And ye that live and move, fair Creatures, tell,Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?Not of my self; by some great Maker then,In goodness and in power praeeminent;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 then I know.While thus I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither,From where I first drew Aire, and first beheldThis happie Light, when answer none return'd,On a green shadie Bank profuse of FloursPensive I sate me down; there gentle sleepFirst found me, and with soft oppression seis'dMy droused sense, untroubl'd, though I thoughtI then was passing to my former stateInsensible, and forthwith to dissolve:When suddenly stood at my Head a dream,Whose inward apparition gently mov'dMy fancy to believe I yet had being,And livd: One came, methought, of shape Divine,And said, thy Mansion wants thee, Adam, rise,First Man, of Men innumerable ordain'dFirst Father, call'd by thee I come thy GuideTo the Garden of bliss, thy seat prepar'd.So saying, by the hand he took me rais'd,And over Fields and Waters, as in AireSmooth sliding without step, last led me upA woodie Mountain; whose high top was plaine,A Circuit wide, enclos'd, with goodliest TreesPlanted, with Walks, and Bowers, that what I sawOf Earth before scarce pleasant seemd. Each TreeLoad'n with fairest Fruit that hung to the EyeTempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetiteTo pluck and eate; whereat I wak'd, and foundBefore mine Eyes all real, as the dreamHad lively shadowd: Here had new begunMy wandring, had not hee who was my GuideUp hither, from among the Trees appeer'dPresence Divine. Rejoycing, but with awIn adoration at his feet I fellSubmiss: he rear'd me, and Whom thou soughtst I am,Said mildely, Author of all this thou seestAbove, or round about thee or beneath.This Paradise I give thee, count it thineTo Till and keep, and of the Fruit to eate:Of every Tree that in the Garden growesEate freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth:But of the Tree whose operation bringsKnowledg of good and ill, which I have setThe Pledge of thy Obedience and thy FaithAmid the Garden by the Tree of LifeRemember what I warne thee, shun to taste,And shun the bitter consequence: for know,The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole commandTransgrest, inevitably thou shalt dye;From that day mortal, and this happie StateShalt loose, expell'd from hence into a WorldOf woe and sorrow. Sternly he pronounc'dThe rigid interdiction, which resoundsYet dreadful in mine eare, though in my choiceNot to incur; but soon his cleer aspectReturn'd and gracious purpose thus renew'd.Not onely these fair bounds, but all the EarthTo thee and to thy Race I give; as LordsPossess it, and all things that therein live,Or live in Sea, or Aire, Beast, Fish, and Fowle.In signe whereof each Bird and Beast beholdAfter thir kindes; I bring them to receaveFrom thee thir Names, and pay thee fealtieWith low subjection; understand the sameOf Fish within thir watry residence,Not hither summond, since they cannot changeThir Element to draw the thinner Aire.As thus he spake, each Bird and Beast beholdApproaching two and two, These cowring lowWith blandishment, each Bird stoop'd on his wing.I nam'd them, as they pass'd, and understoodThir Nature, with such knowledg God endu'dMy sudden apprehension: but in theseI found not what me thought I wanted still;And to the Heav'nly vision thus presum'd.

O by what Name, for thou above all these,Above mankinde, or aught then mankinde higher,Surpassest farr my naming, how may IAdore thee, Author of this Universe,And all this good to man, for whose well beingSo amply, and with hands so liberalThou hast provided all things: but with meeI see not who partakes. In solitudeWhat happiness, who can enjoy alone,Or all enjoying, what contentment find?Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright,As with a smile more bright'nd, thus repli'd.What call'st thou solitude, is not the EarthWith various living creatures, and the AireReplenisht, and all these at thy commandTo come and play before thee, know'st thou notThir language and thir wayes, they also know,And reason not contemptibly; with theseFind pastime, and beare rule; thy Realm is large.So spake the Universal Lord, and seem'dSo ordering. I with leave of speech implor'd,And humble deprecation thus repli'd.

Let not my words offend thee, Heav'nly Power,My Maker, be propitious while I speak.Hast thou not made me here thy substitute,And these inferiour farr beneath me set?Among unequals what societieCan sort, what harmonie or true delight?Which must be mutual, in proportion dueGiv'n and receiv'd; but in disparitieThe one intense, the other still remissCannot well suite with either, but soon proveTedious alike: Of fellowship I speakSuch as I seek, fit to participateAll rational delight, wherein the bruteCannot be human consort; they rejoyceEach with thir kinde, Lion with Lioness;So fitly them in pairs thou hast combin'd;Much less can Bird with Beast, or Fish with FowleSo well converse, nor with the Ox the Ape;Wors then can Man with Beast, and least of all.Whereto th' Almighty answer'd, not displeas'd. A nice and suttle happiness I seeThou to thy self proposest, in the choiceOf thy Associates, Adam, and wilt tasteNo pleasure, though in pleasure, solitarie.What thinkst thou then of mee, and this my State,Seem I to thee sufficiently possestOf happiness, or not? who am aloneFrom all Eternitie, for none I knowSecond to me or like, equal much less.How have I then with whom to hold converseSave with the Creatures which I made, and thoseTo me inferiour, infinite descentsBeneath what other Creatures are to thee?He ceas'd, I lowly answer'd. To attaineThe highth and depth of thy Eternal wayesAll human thoughts come short, Supream of things;Thou in thy self art perfet, and in theeIs no deficience found; not so is Man,But in degree, the cause of his desireBy conversation with his like to help,Or solace his defects. No need that thouShouldst propagat, already infinite;And through all numbers absolute, though One;But Man by number is to manifestHis single imperfection, and begetLike of his like, his Image multipli'd,In unitie defective, which requiresCollateral love, and deerest amitie.Thou in thy secresie although alone,Best with thy self accompanied, seek'st notSocial communication, yet so pleas'd,Canst raise thy Creature to what highth thou wiltOf Union or Communion, deifi'd;I by conversing cannot these erectFrom prone, nor in thir wayes complacence find.Thus I embold'nd spake, and freedom us'dPermissive, and acceptance found, which gain'dThis answer from the gratious voice Divine.

Thus farr to try thee, Adam, I was pleas'd,And finde thee knowing not of Beasts alone,Which thou hast rightly nam'd, but of thy self,Expressing well the spirit within thee free,My Image, not imparted to the Brute,Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for theeGood reason was thou freely shouldst dislike,And be so minded still; I, ere thou spak'st,Knew it not good for Man to be alone,And no such companie as then thou saw'stIntended thee, for trial onely brought,To see how thou could'st judge of fit and meet:What next I bring shall please thee, be assur'd,Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self,Thy wish exactly to thy hearts desire.

Hee ended, or I heard no more, for nowMy earthly by his Heav'nly overpowerd,Which it had long stood under, streind to the highthIn that celestial Colloquie sublime,As with an object that excels the sense,Dazl d and spent, sunk down, and sought repairOf sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'dBy Nature as in aide, and clos'd mine eyes.Mine eyes he clos'd, but op'n left the CellOf Fancie my internal sight, by whichAbstract as in a transe methought I saw,Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shapeStill glorious before whom awake I stood;Who stooping op'nd my left side, and tookFrom thence a Rib, with cordial spirits warme,And Life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound,But suddenly with flesh fill'd up and heal'd:The Rib he formd and fashond with his hands;Under his forming hands a Creature grew,Manlike, but different Sex, so lovly faire,That what seemd fair in all the World, seemd nowMean, or in her summd up, in her containdAnd in her looks, which from that time infus'dSweetness into my heart, unfelt before,And into all things from her Aire inspir'dThe spirit of love and amorous delight.Shee disappeerd, and left me dark, I wak'dTo find her, or for ever to deploreHer loss, and other pleasures all abjure:When out of hope, behold her, not farr off,Such as I saw her in my dream, adorndWith what all Earth or Heaven could bestowTo make her amiable: On she came,Led by her Heav'nly Maker, though unseen,And guided by his voice, nor uninformdOf nuptial Sanctitie and marriage Rites:Grace was in all her steps, Heav'n in her Eye,In every gesture dignitie and love.I overjoyd could not forbear aloud.

This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfill'dThy words, Creator bounteous and benigne,Giver of all things faire, but fairest thisOf all thy gifts, nor enviest. I now seeBone of my Bone, Flesh of my Flesh, my SelfBefore me; Woman is her Name, of ManExtracted; for this cause he shall forgoeFather and Mother, and to his Wife adhere;And they shall be one Flesh, one Heart, one Soule.

She heard me thus, and though divinely brought,Yet Innocence and Virgin Modestie,Her vertue and the conscience of her worth,That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won,Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retir'd,The more desirable, or to say all,Nature her self, though pure of sinful thought,Wrought in her so, that seeing me, she turn'd;I follow'd her, she what was Honour knew,And with obsequious Majestie approv'dMy pleaded reason. To the Nuptial BowreI led her blushing like the Morn: all Heav'n,And happie Constellations on that houreShed thir selectest influence; the EarthGave sign of gratulation, and each Hill;Joyous the Birds; fresh Gales and gentle AiresWhisper'd it to the Woods, and from thir wingsFlung Rose, flung Odours from the spicie Shrub,Disporting, till the amorous Bird of NightSung Spousal, and bid haste the Eevning StarrOn his Hill top, to light the bridal Lamp.Thus I have told thee all my State, and broughtMy Storie to the sum of earthly blissWhich I enjoy, and must confess to findIn all things else delight indeed, but suchAs us'd or not, works in the mind no change,Nor vehement desire, these delicaciesI mean of Taste, Sight, Smell, Herbs, Fruits, and Flours,Walks, and the melodie of Birds; but hereFarr otherwise, transported I behold,Transported touch; here passion first I felt,Commotion strange, in all enjoyments elseSuperiour and unmov'd, here onely weakeAgainst the charm of Beauties powerful glance.Or Nature faild in mee, and left some partNot proof enough such Object to sustain,Or from my side subducting, took perhapsMore then enough; at least on her bestow'dToo much of Ornament, in outward shewElaborate, of inward less exact.For well I understand in the prime endOf Nature her th' inferiour, in the mindAnd inward Faculties, which most excell,In outward also her resembling lessHis Image who made both, and less expressingThe character of that Dominion giv'nO're other Creatures; yet when I approachHer loveliness, so absolute she seemsAnd in her self compleat, so well to knowHer own, that what she wills to do or say,Seems wisest, vertuousest, discreetest, best;All higher knowledge in her presence fallsDegraded, Wisdom in discourse with herLooses discount'nanc't, and like folly shewes;Authority and Reason on her waite,As one intended first, not after madeOccasionally; and to consummate all,Greatness of mind and nobleness thir seatBuild in her loveliest, and create an aweAbout her, as a guard Angelic plac't.To whom the Angel with contracted brow.

Accuse not Nature, she hath don her part;Do thou but thine, and be not diffidentOf Wisdom, she deserts thee not, if thouDismiss not her, when most thou needst her nigh,By attributing overmuch to thingsLess excellent, as thou thy self perceav'st.For what admir'st thou, what transports thee so,An outside? fair no doubt, and worthy wellThy cherishing, thy honouring, and thy love,Not thy subjection: weigh with her thy self;Then value: Oft times nothing profits moreThen self esteem, grounded on just and rightWell manag'd; of that skill the more thou know'st,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 maist loveThy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise.But if the sense of touch whereby mankindIs propagated seem such dear delightBeyond all other, think the same voutsaf'tTo Cattel and each Beast; which would not beTo them made common and divulg'd, if aughtTherein enjoy'd were worthy to subdueThe Soule of Man, or passion in him move.What higher in her societie thou findstAttractive, human, rational, love still;In loving thou dost well, in passion not,Wherein true Love consists not; love refinesThe thoughts, and heart enlarges, hath his seatIn Reason, and is judicious, is the scaleBy which to heav'nly Love thou maist ascend,Not sunk in carnal pleasure, for which causeAmong the Beasts no Mate for thee was found.

To whom thus half abash't Adam repli'd.Neither her out-side formd so fair, nor aughtIn procreation common to all kindes(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 flowFrom all her words and actions mixt with LoveAnd sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'dUnion of Mind, or in us both one Soule;Harmonie to behold in wedded pairMore grateful then harmonious sound to the eare.Yet these subject not; I to thee discloseWhat inward thence I feel, not therefore foild,Who meet with various objects, from the senseVariously representing; yet still freeApprove the best, and follow what I approve.To love thou blam'st me not, for love thou saistLeads up to Heav'n, is both the way and guide;Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask;Love not the heav'nly Spirits, and how thir LoveExpress they, by looks onely, or do they mixIrradiance, virtual or immediate touch?

To whom the Angel with a smile that glow'dCelestial rosie red, Loves proper hue,Answer'd. Let it suffice thee that thou know'stUs happie, and without Love no happiness.Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy'st(And pure thou wert created) we enjoyIn eminence, and obstacle find noneOf membrane, joynt, or limb, exclusive barrs:Easier then Air with Air; if Spirits embrace,Total they mix, Union of Pure with PureDesiring; nor restrain'd conveyance needAs Flesh to mix with Flesh, or Soul with Soul.But I can now no more; the parting SunBeyond the Earths green Cape and verdant IslesHesperean sets, my Signal to depart.Be strong, live happie, and love, but first of allHim whom to love is to obey, and keepHis great command; take heed least Passion swayThy judgement to do aught, which else free WillWould not admit; thine and of all thy SonsThe weal or woe in thee is plac't; beware.I in thy persevering shall rejoyce,And all the Blest: stand fast; to stand or fallFree in thine own Arbitrement it lies.Perfet within, no outward aid require;And all temptation to transgress repel.

So saying, he arose; whom Adam thusFollow'd with benediction. Since to part,Go heavenly Guest, Ethereal Messenger,Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore.Gentle to me and affable hath beenThy condescension, and shall be honour'd everWith grateful Memorie: thou to mankindBe good and friendly still, and oft return.

So parted they, the Angel up to Heav'nFrom the thick shade, and Adam to his Bowre.

© John Milton