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Charmed with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed

Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Meanwhile,

To re-salute the world with sacred light,

Leucothea¹ waked, and with fresh dews embalmed

The earth; when Adam and first matron Eve

Had ended now their orisons, and found

Strength added from above, new hope to spring

Out of despair, joy, but with fear yet linked;

Which thus to Eve his welcome words renewed:

Eve, easily may faith admit that all The good which we enjoy from heaven descends; But that from us aught should ascend to Heaven So prevalent, as to concern the mind Of God, high-blest, or to incline His will, Hard to belief may seem; yet this will prayer, Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne Even to the seat of God. For since I sought By prayer the offended Deity to appease, Kneeled, and before him humbled all my heart, Methought I saw him placable and mild, Bending his ear; persuasion in me grew That I was heard with favour; peace returned Home to my breast, and to my memory His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe; Which, then not minded in dismay, yet now Assures me that the bitterness of death Is past, and we shall live. Whence, hail to thee, Eve, rightly called Mother of all Mankind, Mother of all things living, since by thee Man is to live, and all things live for Man.

To whom thus Eve, with sad demeanour, meek:

Ill-worthy I such title should belong

To me, transgressor, who, for thee ordained

A help, became thy snare: to me reproach

Rather belongs, distrust, and all dispraise.

But infinite in pardon was my Judge,

That I, who first brought death on all, am graced

The source of life; next favourable thou,

Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsafest,

Far other name deserving. But the field

To labour calls us, now with sweat imposed,

Though after sleepless night; for see! the Morn,

All unconcerned with our unrest, begins

Her rosy progress, smiling. Let us forth,

I never from thy side henceforth to stray,

Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoined

Laborious till day droop. While here we dwell,

What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks?

Here let us live, though in fallen state, content.

PARADISE LOST.

So spake, so wished, much-humbled Eve; but fate

Subscribed not. Nature first gave signs, impressed

On bird, beast, air—air suddenly eclipsed,

After short blush of morn. Nigh, in her sight,

The bird of Jove, stooped from his aery tour,

Two birds of gayest plume before him drove;

Down from a hill, the beast that reigns in woods,

First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace,

Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind;

Direct to the eastern gate was bent their flight.

Adam observed, and, with his eye the chase.

Pursuing, not unmoved, to Eve thus spake:

O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh,

Which Heaven, by these mute signs in Nature, shows,

Forerunners of His purpose; or to warn

Us, haply too secure of our discharge

From penalty, because from death released

Some days; how long, and what till then our life,

Who knows? or more than this, that we are dust,

And thither must return, and be no more?

Why else this double object in our sight,

Of flight pursued in the air, and o'er the ground,

Leucothea.—A Grecian divinity—a goddess of the morning and of the sea.