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Воок Х.—1069-1104]

The serpent's head—piteous amends! unless Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe, Satan, who, in the serpent, hath contrived Against us this deceit—to crush his head Would be revenge indeed! which will be lost, By death brought on ourselves, or childless days Resolved, as thou proposest; so our foe Shall 'scape his punishment ordained, and we, Instead, shall double ours upon our heads. No more be mentioned then, of violence Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness That cuts us off from hope, and savours only Rancour and pride, impatience and despite, Reluctance against God, and his just yoke Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild And gracious temper he both heard and judged, Without wrath or reviling. We expected Immediate dissolution, which we thought Was meant by death that day; when lo! to thee Pains only in child-bearing were foretold, And bringing forth, soon recompensed with joy, Fruit of thy womb. On me the curse aslope Glanced on the ground; with labour I must earn My bread-what harm? Idleness had been worse; My labour will sustain me; and lest cold Or heat should injure us, his timely care Hath, unbesought, provided, and his hands Clothed us, unworthy, pitying while he judged How much more, if we pray him, will his ear Be open, and his heart to pity incline, And teach us further by what means to shun The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow! Which now the sky, with various face, begins To show us in this mountain; while the winds Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks Of these fair-spreading trees; which bids us seek Some better shroud, some better warmth, to cherish Our limbs benumbed, ere this diurnal star Leave cold the night, how we his gathered beams Reflected may with matter sere foment; Or, by collision of two bodies, grind The air attrite to fire: as late the clouds Justling, or pushed with winds, rude in their shock, Tine1 the slant lightning, whose thwart flame, driven down, Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine, And sends a comfortable heat from far, Which might supply the sun: such fire to use, And what may else be remedy or cure To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, He will instruct us praying, and of grace Beseeching him. So as we need not fear To pass commodiously this life, sustained By him with many comforts, till we end In dust, our final rest and native home. What better can we do, than, to the place Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall Before him, reverent; and there confess Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air Frequenting,2 sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek? Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn From his displeasure; in whose look serene, When angry most he seemed, and most severe, What else but favour, grace, and mercy, shone?

PARADISE LOST.

So spake our father, penitent; nor Eve

Felt less remorse: they, forthwith to the place

Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell

Before him, reverent, and both confessed

Humbly their faults, and pardon begged, with tears

Watering the ground; and with their sighs the air

Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign

Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek.

1 Tine. - Kindle. Anglo-Saxon. 1 Frequenting. - Filling.