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Воок VIII.—168-203]

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.

PARADISE LOST.

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

Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb1 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 terrestial 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 unpossesed By living soul, desert 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; 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 air along, Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid.

Diurnal rhomb.—A term in geometry denoting obliqueness.

For such vast room in nature.—For that such vast room there is in nature.