| |
| DESCEND from Heaven, Urania, by that name | |
| If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine | |
| Following, above the Olympian hill I soar, | |
| Above the flight of Pegasean wing! | |
| The meaning, not the name, I call; for thou | 5 |
| Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top | |
| Of old Olympus dwellst; but, heavenlyborn, | |
| Before the hills appeared or fountain flowed, | |
| Thou with Eternal Wisdom didst converse, | |
| Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play | 10 |
| In presence of the Almighty Father, pleased | |
| With thy celestial song. Up led by thee, | |
| Into the Heaven of Heavens I have presumed, | |
| An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air, | |
| Thy tempering. With like safety guided down, | 15 |
| Return me to my native element; | |
| Lest, from this flying steed unreined (as once | |
| Bellerophon, though from a lower clime) | |
| Dismounted, on the Aleian field I fall, | |
| Erroneous there to wander and forlorn. | 20 |
| Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound | |
| Within the visible Diurnal Sphere. | |
| Standing on Earth, not rapt above the pole, | |
| More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged | |
| To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days, | 25 |
| On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues, | |
| In darkness, and with dangers compassed round, | |
| And solitude; yet not alone, while thou | |
| Visitst my slumbers nightly, or when Morn | |
| Purples the East. Still govern thou my song, | 30 |
| Urania, and fit audience find, though few. | |
| But drive far off the barbarous dissonance | |
| Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race | |
| Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian Bard | |
| In Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears | 35 |
| To rapture, till the savage clamour drowned | |
| Both harp and voice; nor could the Muse defend | |
| Her son. So fail not thou who thee implores; | |
| For thou art heavenly, she an empty dream. | |
| Say, Goddess, what ensued when Raphael, | 40 |
| The affable Archangel, had forewarned | |
| Adam, by dire example, to beware | |
| Apostasy, by what befell in Heaven | |
| To those apostates, lest the like befall | |
| In Paradise to Adam or his race, | 45 |
| Charged not to touch the interdicted Tree, | |
| If they transgress, and slight that sole command, | |
| So easily obeyed amid the choice | |
| Of all tastes else to please their appetite, | |
| Though wandering. He, with his consorted Eve, | 50 |
| The story heard attentive, and was filled | |
| With admiration and deep muse, to hear | |
| Of things so high and strangethings to their thought | |
| So unimaginable as hate in Heaven, | |
| And was so near the peace of God in bliss, | 55 |
| With such confusion; but the evil, soon | |
| Driven back, redounded as a flood on those | |
| From whom it sprung, impossible to mix | |
| With blessedness. Whence Adam soon repealed | |
| The doubts that in his heart arose; and, now | 60 |
| Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know | |
| What nearer might concern himhow this World | |
| Of heaven and earth conspicuous first began; | |
| When, and whereof, created; for what cause; | |
| What within Eden, or without, was done | 65 |
| Before his memoryas one whose drouth, | |
| Yet scarce allayed, still eyes the current stream, | |
| Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, | |
| Proceeded thus to ask his Heavenly Guest: | |
| Great things, and full of wonder in our ears, | 70 |
| Far differing from this World, thou hast revealed, | |
| Divine Interpreter! by favour sent | |
| Down from the Empyrean to forewarn | |
| Us timely of what might else have been our loss, | |
| Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach; | 75 |
| For which to the infinitely Good we owe | |
| Immortal thanks, and his admonishment | |
| Receive with solemn purpose to observe | |
| Immutably his sovran will, the end | |
| Of what we are. But, since thou hast voutsafed | 80 |
| Gently, for our instruction, to impart | |
| Things above Earthly thought, which yet concerned | |
| Our knowing, as to highest Wisdom seemed, | |
| Deign to descend now lower, and relate | |
| What may no less perhaps avail us known | 85 |
| How first began this Heaven which we behold | |
| Distant so high, with moving fires adorned | |
| Innumerable; and this which yields or fills | |
| All space, the ambient Air, wide interfused, | |
| Imbracing round this florid Earth; what cause | 90 |
| Moved the Creator, in his holy rest | |
| Through all eternity, so late to build | |
| In Chaos; and, the work begun, how soon | |
| Absolved: if unforbid thou mayst unfold | |
| What we not to explore the secrets ask | 95 |
| Of his eternal empire, but the more | |
| To magnify his works the more we know. | |
| And the great Light of Day yet wants to run | |
| Much of his race, though steep. Suspense in heaven | |
| Held by thy voice, thy potent voice he hears | 100 |
| And longer will delay, to hear thee tell | |
| His generation, and the rising birth | |
| Of Nature from the unapparent Deep: | |
| Or, if the Star of Evening and the Moon | |
| Haste to thy audience, Night with her will bring | 105 |
| Silence, and Sleep listening to thee will watch; | |
| Or we can bid his absence till thy song | |
| End, and dismiss thee ere the morning shine. | |
| Thus Adam his illustrious guest besought; | |
| And thus the godlike Angel answered mild: | 110 |
| This also thy request, with caution asked, | |
| Obtain; though to recount Almighty works | |
| What words or tongue of Seraph can suffice, | |
| Or heart of man suffice to comprehend? | |
| Yet what thou canst attain, which best may serve | 115 |
| To glorify the Maker, and infer | |
| Thee also happier, shall not be withheld | |
| Thy hearing. Such commission from above | |
| I have received, to answer thy desire | |
| Of knowledge within bounds; beyond abstain | 120 |
| To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope | |
| Things not revealed, which the invisible King, | |
| Only Omniscient, hath suppressed in night, | |
| To none communicable in Earth or Heaven, | |
| Enough is left besides to search and know; | 125 |
| But Knowledge is as food, and needs no less | |
| Her temperance over appetite, to know | |
| In measure what the mind may well contain; | |
| Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns | |
| Wisdom to folly, as nourishment to wind. | 130 |
| Know then that, after Lucifer from Heaven | |
| (So call him, brighter once amidst the host | |
| Of Angels then that star the stars among) | |
| Fell with his flaming Legions through the Deep | |
| Into his place, and the great Son returned | 135 |
| Victorious with his Saints, the Omnipotent | |
| Eternal Father from his Throne beheld | |
| Their multitude, and to his Son thus spake: | |
| At least our envious foe hath failed, who thought | |
| All like himself rebellious; by whose aid | 140 |
| This inaccessible high strength, the seat | |
| Of Deity supreme, us dispossessed, | |
| He trusted to have seized, and into fraud | |
| Drew many whom their place knows here no more. | |
| Yet far the greater part have kept, I see, | 145 |
| Their station; Heaven, yet populous, retains | |
| Number sufficient to possess her realms, | |
| Though wide, and this high temple to frequent | |
| With ministeries due and solemn rites. | |
| But, lest his heart exalt him in the harm | 150 |
| Already done, to have dispeopled Heaven | |
| My damage fondly deemedI can repair | |
| That detriment, if such it be to lose | |
| Self-lost, and in a moment will create | |
| Another world; out of one man a race | 155 |
| Of men innumerable, there to dwell, | |
| Not here, till, by degrees of merit raised, | |
| They open to themselves at length the way | |
| Up hither, under long obedience tried, | |
| And Earth be changed to Heaven, and Heaven to Earth, | 160 |
| One kingdom, joy and union without end. | |
| Meanwhile inhabit lax, ye Powers of Heaven; | |
| And thou, my Word, begotten Son, by thee | |
| This I perform; speak thou, and be it done! | |
| My overshadowing Spirit and might with thee | 165 |
| I send along; ride forth, and bid the Deep | |
| Within appointed bounds be heaven and earth. | |
| Boundless the Deep, because I am who fill | |
| Infinitude; nor vacuous the space, | |
| Though I, uncircumscribed, myself retire, | 170 |
| And put not forth my goodness, which is free | |
| To act or not. Necessity and Chance | |
| Approach not me, and what I will is Fate. | |
| So spake the Almighty; and to what he spake | |
| His Word, the Filial Godhead, gave effect. | 175 |
| Immediate are the acts of God, more swift | |
| Than time or motion, but to human ears | |
| Cannot without process of speech be told, | |
| So told as earthly notion can receive. | |
| Great triumph and rejoicing was in Heaven | 180 |
| When such was heard declared the Almightys will. | |
| Glory they sung to the Most High, goodwill | |
| To future men, and in their dwellings peace | |
| Glory to Him whose just avenging ire | |
| Had driven out the ungodly from his sight | 185 |
| And the habitations of the just; to Him | |
| Glory and praise whose wisdom had ordained | |
| Good out of evil to createinstead | |
| Of Spirits malign, a better Race to bring | |
| Into their vacant room, and thence diffuse | 190 |
| His good to worlds and ages infinite. | |
| So sang the Hierarchies. Meanwhile the Son | |
| On his great expedition now appeared, | |
| Girt with omnipotence, with radiance crowned | |
| Of majesty divine, sapience and love | 195 |
| Immense; and all his Father in him shon. | |
| About his chariot numberless were poured | |
| Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones, | |
| And Virtues, winged Spirits, and chariots winged | |
| From the armoury of God, where stand of old | 200 |
| Myriads, between two brazen mountains lodged | |
| Against a solemn day, harnessed at hand, | |
| Celestial equipage; and now came forth | |
| Spontaneous, for within them Spirit lived, | |
| Attendant on their Lord. Heaven opened wide | 205 |
| Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound | |
| On golden hinges moving, to let forth | |
| The King of Glory, in his powerful Word | |
| And Spirit coming to create new worlds. | |
| On Heavenly ground they stood, and from the shore | 210 |
| They viewed the vast immeasurable Abyss, | |
| Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, | |
| Up from the bottom turned by furious winds | |
| And surging waves, as mountains to assault | |
| Heavens highth, and with the centre mix the pole. | 215 |
| Silence, ye troubled waves, and, thou Deep, peace! | |
| Said then the omnific Word: your discord end! | |
| Nor stayed; but, on the wings of Cherubim | |
| Uplifted, in paternal glory rode | |
| Far into Chaos and the World unborn; | 220 |
| For Chaos heard his voice. Him all his train | |
| Followed in bright procession, to behold | |
| Creation, and the wonders of his might. | |
| Then stayed the fervid wheels, and in his hand | |
| He took the golden compasses, prepared | 225 |
| In Gods eternal store, to circumscribe | |
| This Universe, and all created things. | |
| One foot he centred, and the other turned | |
| Round through the vast profundity obscure, | |
| And said, Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds; | 230 |
| This be thy just circumference, O World! | |
| Thus God the Heaven created, thus the Earth, | |
| Matter unformed and void. Darkness profound | |
| Covered the Abyss; but on the watery calm | |
| His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspread, | 235 |
| And vital virtue infused, and vital warmth, | |
| Throughout the fluid mass, but downward purged | |
| The black, tartareous, cold, infernal dregs, | |
| Adverse to life; then founded, then conglobed, | |
| Like things to like, the rest to several place | 240 |
| Disparted, and between spun out the Air, | |
| And Earth, self-balanced, on her centre hung. | |
| Let there be Light! said God; and forthwith Light | |
| Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, | |
| Sprung from the Deep, and from her native East | 245 |
| To journey through the aery gloom began, | |
| Sphered in a radiant cloudfor yet the Sun | |
| Was not; she in a cloudy tabernacle | |
| Sojourned the while. God saw the Light was good; | |
| And light from darkness by the hemisphere | 250 |
| Divided: Light the Day, and Darkness Night, | |
| He named. Thus was the first Day even and morn; | |
| Nor passed uncelebrated, nor unsung | |
| By the celestial quires, when orient light | |
| Exhaling first from darkness they beheld, | 255 |
| Birth-day of Heaven and Earth. With joy and shout | |
| The hollow universal orb they filled, | |
| And touched their golden harps, and hymning praised | |
| God and his works; Creator him they sung, | |
| Both when first evening was, and when first morn. | 260 |
| Again God said, Let there be firmament | |
| Amid the waters, and let it divide | |
| The waters from the waters! And God made | |
| The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure, | |
| Transparent, elemental air, diffused | 265 |
| In circuit to the uttermost convex | |
| Of this great roundpartition firm and sure, | |
| The waters underneath from those above | |
| Dividing; for as Earth, so he the World | |
| Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide | 270 |
| Crystallin ocean, and the loud misrule | |
| Of Chaos far removed, lest fierce extremes | |
| Contiguous might distemper the whole frame: | |
| And Heaven he named the Firmament. So even | |
| And morning chorus sung the second Day. | 275 |
| The Earth was formed, but, in the womb as yet | |
| Of waters, embryon immature, involved, | |
| Appeared not; over all the face of Earth | |
| Main ocean flowed, not idle, but, with warm | |
| Prolific humour softening all her globe, | 280 |
| Fermented the great Mother to conceive, | |
| Satiate with genial moisture; when God said, | |
| Be gathered now, ye waters under heaven, | |
| Into one place, and let dry land appear! | |
| Immediately the mountains huge appear | 285 |
| Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave | |
| Into the clouds; their tops ascend the sky. | |
| So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low | |
| Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, | |
| Capacious bed of waters. Thither they | 290 |
| Hasted with glad precipitance, uprowled, | |
| As drops on dust conglobing, from the dry: | |
| Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct, | |
| For haste; such flight the great command impressed | |
| On the swift floods. As armies at the call | 295 |
| Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard) | |
| Troop to their standard, so the watery throng, | |
| Wave rowling after wave, where way they found | |
| If steep, with torrent rapture, if through plain, | |
| Soft-ebbing; nor withstood them rock or hill; | 300 |
| But they, or underground, or circuit wide | |
| With serpent error wandering, found their way, | |
| And on the washy ooze deep channels wore: | |
| Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, | |
| All but within those banks where rivers now | 305 |
| Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. | |
| The dry land Earth, and the great receptacle | |
| Of congregated waters he called Seas; | |
| And saw that it was good, and said, Let the Earth | |
| Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed, | 310 |
| And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind, | |
| Whose seed is in herself upon the Earth! | |
| He scarce had said when the bare Earth, till then | |
| Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorned, | |
| Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad | 315 |
| Her universal face with pleasant green; | |
| Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flowered, | |
| Opening their various colours, and made gay | |
| Her bosom, smelling sweet; and, these scarce blown, | |
| Forth flourished thick the clustering vine, forth crept | 320 |
| The smelling gourd, up stood the corny reed | |
| Imbattled in her field: add the humble shrub, | |
| And bush with frizzled hair implicit: last | |
| Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread | |
| Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemmed | 325 |
| Their blossoms. With high woods the hills were crowned, | |
| With tufts the valleys and each fountain-side, | |
| With borders long the rivers, that Earth now | |
| Seemed like to Heaven, a seat where gods might dwell, | |
| Or wander with delight, and love to haunt | 330 |
| Her sacred shades; though God had yet not rained | |
| Upon the Earth, and man to till the ground | |
| None was, but from the Earth a dewy mist | |
| Went up and watered all the ground, and each | |
| Plant of the field, which ere it was in the Earth | 335 |
| God made, and every herb before it grew | |
| On the green stem. God saw that it was good; | |
| So even and morn recorded the third Day. | |
| Again the Almighty spake, Let there be Lights | |
| High in the expanse of Heaven, to divide | 340 |
| The Day from Night; and let them be for signs, | |
| For seasons, and for days, and circling years; | |
| And let them be for lights, as I ordain | |
| Their office in the firmament of heaven, | |
| To give light on the Earth! and it was so. | 345 |
| And God made two great Lights, great for their use | |
| To Man, the greater to have rule by day, | |
| The less by night, alternor; and made the Stars, | |
| And set them in the firmament of heaven | |
| To illuminate the Earth, and rule the day | 350 |
| In their vicissitude, and rule the night, | |
| And light from darkness to divide. God saw, | |
| Surveying his great work, that it was good: | |
| For, of celestial bodies, first the Sun | |
| A mighty sphere he framed, unlightsome first, | 355 |
| Though of ethereal mould; then formed the Moon | |
| Globose, and every magnitude of Stars, | |
| And sowed with stars the heaven thick as a field. | |
| Of light by far the greater part he took, | |
| Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed | 360 |
| In the Suns orb, made porous to receive | |
| And drink the liquid light, firm to retain | |
| Her gathered beams, great palace now of Light. | |
| Hither, as to their fountain, other stars | |
| Repairing, in their golden urns draw light, | 365 |
| And hence the morning planet gilds her horns; | |
| By tincture or reflection they augment | |
| Their small peculiar, though, from human sight | |
| So far remote, with diminution seen. | |
| First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, | 370 |
| Regent of day, and all the horizon round | |
| Invested with bright rays, jocond to run | |
| His longitude through heavens high-road; the grey | |
| Dawn, and the Pleiades, before him danced, | |
| Shedding sweet influence. Less bright the Moon, | 375 |
| But opposite in levelled west, was set, | |
| His mirror, with full face borrowing her light | |
| From him; for other light she needed none | |
| In that aspect, and still that distance keeps | |
| Till night; then in the east her turn she shines, | 380 |
| Revolved on heavens great axle, and her reign | |
| With thousand lesser lights dividual holds, | |
| With thousand thousand stars, that then appeared | |
| Spangling the hemisphere. Then first adorned | |
| With her bright luminaries, that set and rose, | 385 |
| Glad evening and glad morn crowned the fourth Day. | |
| And God said, Let the waters generate | |
| Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul; | |
| And let Fowl fly above the earth, with wings | |
| Displayed on the open firmament of Heaven! | 390 |
| And God created the great Whales, and each | |
| Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously | |
| The waters generated by their kinds, | |
| And every bird of wing after his kind, | |
| And saw that it was good, and blessed them, saying, | 395 |
| Be fruitful, multiply, and, in the seas, | |
| And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill; | |
| And let the fowl be multiplied on the earth! | |
| Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay, | |
| With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals | 400 |
| Of fish that, with their fins and shining scales, | |
| Glide under the green wave in sculls that oft | |
| Bank the mid-sea. Part, single or with mate, | |
| Graze the sea-weed, their pasture, and through groves | |
| Of coral stray, or, sporting with quick glance, | 405 |
| Shew to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold, | |
| Or, in their pearly shells at ease, attend | |
| Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food | |
| In jointed armour watch; on smooth the seal | |
| And bended dolphins play; part, huge of bulk, | 410 |
| Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, | |
| Tempest the ocean. There Leviathan, | |
| Hugest of living creatures, on the deep | |
| Stretched like a promontory, sleeps or swims, | |
| And seems a moving land, and at his gills | 415 |
| Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea. | |
| Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shores, | |
| Their brood as numerous hatch from the egg, that soon, | |
| Bursting with kindly rupture, forth disclosed | |
| Their callow young; but feathered soon and fledge | 420 |
| They summed their pens, and, soaring the air sublime, | |
| With clang despised the ground, under a cloud | |
| In prospect. There the eagle and the stork | |
| On cliffs and cedar-tops their eyries build. | |
| Part loosely wing the Region; part, more wise, | 425 |
| In common, ranged in figure, wedge their way, | |
| Intelligent of seasons, and set forth | |
| Their aerie caravan, high over seas | |
| Flying, and over lands, with mutual wing | |
| Easing their flight: so steers the prudent crane | 430 |
| Her annual voyage, borne on winds: the air | |
| Floats as they pass, fanned with unnumbered plumes. | |
| From branch to branch the smaller birds with song | |
| Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings, | |
| Till even; nor then the solemn nightingale | 435 |
| Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays. | |
| Others, on silver lakes and rivers, bathed | |
| Their downy breast; the swan, with arched neck | |
| Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows | |
| Her state with oary feet; yet oft they quit | 440 |
| The dank, and, rising on stiff pennons, tower | |
| The mid aerial sky. Others on ground | |
| Walked firmthe crested cock, whose clarion sounds | |
| The silent hours, and the other, whose gay train | |
| Adorns him, coloured with the florid hue | 445 |
| Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus | |
| With Fish replenished, and the air with Fowl, | |
| Evening and morn solemnized the fifth Day. | |
| The sixth, and of Creation last, arose | |
| With evening harps and matin; when God said, | 450 |
| Let the Earth bring forth soul living in her kind, | |
| Cattle, and creeping things, and beast of the earth, | |
| Each in their kind! The Earth obeyed, and, straight | |
| Opening her fertile womb, teemed at a birth | |
| Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms, | 455 |
| Limbed and full-grown. Out of the ground up rose, | |
| As from his lair, the wild beast, where he wons | |
| In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den | |
| Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walked; | |
| The cattle in the fields and meadows green: | 460 |
| Those rare and solitary, these in flocks | |
| Pasturing at once and in broad herds, upsprung. | |
| The grassy clods now calved; now half appeared | |
| The tawny Lion, pawing to get free | |
| His hinder partsthen springs, as broke from bonds, | 465 |
| And rampant shakes his brinded mane; the Ounce, | |
| The Libbard, and the Tiger, as the Mole | |
| Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw | |
| In hillocks; the swift Stag from underground | |
| Bore up his branching head; scarce from his mould | 470 |
| Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved | |
| His vastness; fleeced the flocks and bleating rose, | |
| As plants; ambiguous between sea and land, | |
| The River-horse and scaly Crocodile. | |
| At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, | 475 |
| Insect or worm. Those waved their limber fans | |
| For wings, and smallest lineaments exact | |
| In all the liveries decked of summers pride, | |
| With spots of gold and purple, azure and green; | |
| These as a line their long dimension drew, | 480 |
| Streaking the ground with sinuous trace: not all | |
| Minims of nature; some of serpent kind, | |
| Wondrous in length and corpulence, involved | |
| Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept | |
| The parsimonious Emmet, provident | 485 |
| Of future, in small room large heart enclosed | |
| Pattern of just equality perhaps | |
| Hereafterjoined in her popular tribes | |
| Of commonalty. Swarming next appeared | |
| The female Bee, that feeds her husband drone | 490 |
| Deliciously, and builds her waxen cells | |
| With honey stored. The rest are numberless, | |
| And thou their natures knowst, and gavst them names | |
| Needless to thee repeated; nor unknown | |
| The Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, | 495 |
| Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes | |
| And hairy mane terrific, though to thee | |
| Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. | |
| Now Heaven in all her glory shon, and rowled | |
| Her motions, as the great First Movers hand | 500 |
| First wheeled their course; Earth, in her rich attire | |
| Consummate, lovely smiled; Air, Water, Earth, | |
| By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walked | |
| Frequent; and of the sixth Day yet remained. | |
| There wanted yet the master-work, the end | 505 |
| Of all yet donea creature who, not prone | |
| And brute as other creatures, but endued | |
| With sanctity of reason, might erect | |
| His stature, and, upright with front serene | |
| Govern the rest, self-knowing, and from thence | 510 |
| Magnanimous to correspond with Heaven, | |
| But grateful to acknowledge whence his good | |
| Descends; thither with heart, and voice, and eyes | |
| Directed in devotion, to adore | |
| And worship God Supreme, who made him chief | 515 |
| Of all his works. Therefore the Omnipotent | |
| Eternal Father (for where is not He | |
| Present?) thus to his Son audibly spake: | |
| Let us make now Man in our image, Man | |
| In our Timilitude, and let them rule | 520 |
| Over the fish and fowl of sea and air, | |
| Beast of the field, and over all the earth, | |
| And every creeping thing that creeps the ground! | |
| This said, he formed thee, Adam, thee, O Man, | |
| Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breathed | 525 |
| The breath of life; in his own image he | |
| Created thee, in the image of God | |
| Express, and thou becamst a living Soul. | |
| Male he created thee, but thy consort | |
| Female, for race; then blessed mankind, and said, | 530 |
| Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the Earth; | |
| Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold | |
| Over fish of the sea and fowl of the air, | |
| And every living thing that moves on the Earth! | |
| Wherever thus createdfor no place | 535 |
| Is yet distinct by namethence, as thou knowst, | |
| He brought thee into this delicious grove, | |
| This Garden, planted with the tress of God, | |
| Delectable both to behold and taste, | |
| And freely all their pleasant fruit for food | 540 |
| Gave thee. All sorts are here that all the earth yields, | |
| Variety without end; but of the tree | |
| Which tasted works knowledge of good and evil | |
| Thou mayst not; in the day thou eatst, thou diest. | |
| Death is the penalty imposed; beware, | 545 |
| And govern well thy appetite, least Sin | |
| Surprise thee, and her black attendant, Death. | |
| Here finished He, and all that he had made | |
| Viewed, and behold! all was entirely good. | |
| So even and morn accomplished the sixth Day; | 550 |
| Yet not till the Creator, from his work | |
| Desisting, though unwearied, up returned, | |
| Up to the Heaven of Heavens, his high abode, | |
| Thence to behold this new-created World, | |
| The addition of his empire, how it shewed | 555 |
| In prospect from his Throne, how good, how fair, | |
| Answering his great Idea. Up he rode, | |
| Followed with acclamation, and the sound | |
| Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that tuned | |
| Angelic harmonies. The Earth, the Air | 560 |
| Resounded (thou rememberst, for thou heardst), | |
| The heavens and all the constellations rung, | |
| The planets in their stations listening stood, | |
| While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. | |
| Open, ye everlasting gates! they sung; | 565 |
| Open, ye Heavens, your living doors! let in | |
| The great Creator, from his work returned | |
| Magnificent, his six days work, a World! | |
| Open, and henceforth oft; for God will deign | |
| To visit oft the dwellings of just men | 570 |
| Delighted, and with frequent intercourse | |
| Thither will send his winged messengers | |
| On errands of supernal grace. So sung | |
| The glorious train ascending. He through Heaven, | |
| That opened wide her blazing portals, led | 575 |
| To Gods eternal house direct the way | |
| A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, | |
| And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear | |
| Seen in the Galaxy, that milky way | |
| Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest | 580 |
| Powdered with stars. And now on Earth the seventh | |
| Evening arose in Edenfor the sun | |
| Was set, and twilight from the east came on, | |
| Forerunning nightwhen at the holy mount | |
| Of Heavens high-seated top, the imperial throne | 585 |
| Of Godhead, fixed for ever firm and sure, | |
| The Filial Power arrived, and sat him down | |
| With his great Father; for He also went | |
| Invisible, yet stayed (such privilege | |
| Hath Omnipresence) and the work ordained, | 590 |
| Author and end of all things, and from work | |
| Now resting. Blessed and hallowed the seventh Day, | |
| As resting on that day from all his work; | |
| But not in silence holy kept: the harp | |
| Had work, and rested not; the solemn pipe | 595 |
| And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, | |
| All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, | |
| Tempered soft tunings, intermixed with voice | |
| Choral or unison; of incense clouds, | |
| Fuming from golden censers, hid the Mount. | 600 |
| Creation and the Six Days acts they sung: | |
| Great are thy works, Jehovah! infinite | |
| Thy power! what thought can measure thee, or tongue | |
| Relate theegreater now in thy return | |
| Than from the Giant-angels? Thee that day | 605 |
| Thy thunders magnified; but to create | |
| Is greater than created to destroy. | |
| Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound | |
| Thy empire? Easily the proud attempt | |
| Of Spirits apostate, and their counsels vain, | 610 |
| Thou hast repelled, while impiously they thought | |
| Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw | |
| The number of thy worshipers. Who seeks | |
| To lessen thee, against his purpose, serves | |
| To manifest the more thy might; his evil | 615 |
| Thou usest, and from thence creatst more good. | |
| Witness this new-made World, another Heaven | |
| From Heaven-gate not far, founded in view | |
| On the clear hyalin, the glassy sea; | |
| Of amplitude almost immense, with stars | 620 |
| Numerous, and every star perhaps a world | |
| Of destined habitationbut thou knowst | |
| Their seasons; among these the seat of men, | |
| Earth, with her nether ocean circumfused, | |
| Their pleasant dwellingplace. Thrice happy men, | 625 |
| And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanced, | |
| Created in his image, there to dwell | |
| And worship him, and in reward to rule | |
| Over his works, on earth, in sea, or air, | |
| And multiply a race of worshipers | 630 |
| Holy and just! thrice happy, if they know | |
| Their happiness, and persevere upright! | |
| So sung they, and the Empyrean rung | |
| With halleluiahs. Thus was Sabbath kept. | |
| And thy request think now fulfilled that asked | 635 |
| How first this World and face of things began, | |
| And what before thy memory was done | |
| From the beginning, that posterity, | |
| Informed by thee, might know. If else thou seekst | |
| Aught, not surpassing human measure, say. | 640 |
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