Charm'd with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed
Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Meanwhile
To resalute the world with sacred light,
Leucotheaf waked, and with fresh dews embalm'd
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 link'd;
Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd:
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
Ev'n to the seat of God: for since I sought
By prayer the offended Deity to appease,
Kneel'd, 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 return'd
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 call'd 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 transgressour; who, for thee ordain'd
A help, became thy snare; to me reproach
Rather belong, 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 unconcern'd with our unrest, begins
The white goddess, as the name in Greek imports: the same with Matuta in Latin. Matuta is the early morning, that ushers in the Aurora rosy with the sunbeams, according to Lucretius, v. 655; and from Matuta is derived matutinus, "early in the morning." This is the last morning in the poem; the morning of the fatal day wherein our first parents were expelled out of Paradise.-NEWTON.
Her rosy progress smiling: let us forth;
I never from thy side henceforth to stray,
Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoin'd
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.
So spake, so wish'd, much-humbled Eve; but fate
Subscribed not: nature first gave signs, impress'd
On bird, beast, air; air suddenly eclipsed,
After short blush of morn: nigh in her sight
The bird of Jove, stoop'd 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 farther 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,
One way the self-same hour? why in the east
Darkness ere day's mid-course, and morning-light
More orient in yon western cloud, that draws
O'er the blue firmament a radiant white,
And slow descends with something heavenly fraught?
A glorious apparition, had not doubt
And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adam's eye.
Not that more glorioush, when the angels met
Two birds of gayest plume.
Such omens are not unusual in the poets; see Virg. Æn. i. 393; and Æn. xii. 247. But these omens have a singular beauty here, as they show the change that is going to be made in the condition of Adam and Eve; and nothing could be invented more apposite and proper for this purpose ;-an eagle pursuing two beautiful birds, and a lion chasing a fine hart and hind; and both to the eastern gate of Paradise; as Adam and Eve were to be driven out by the angel at that gate.-NEWTON. These two incidents are indeed inimitably beautiful and affecting.
h Not that more glorious.
That was not a more glorious apparition of the angels, which appeared to Jacob in Mahanaim, Gen. xxxii. 1, 2; nor that which appeared on the flaming mount in Dothan,
Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw
The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright;
Nor that, which on the flaming mount appear'd
In Dothan, cover'd with a camp of fire,
Against the Syrian king, who to surprise
One man, assassin-like, had levied war,
War unproclaim'di. The princely hierarch
In their bright stand there left his powers, to seize
Possession of the garden: he alone,
To find where Adam shelter'd, took his way,
Not unperceived of Adam; who to Eve,
While the great visitant approach'd, thus spake :
Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps
Of us will soon determine, or impose
New laws to be observed: for I descry,
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill,
One of the heavenly host; and, by his gait,
None of the meanest : some great potentate,
Or of the thrones above; such majesty
Invests him coming: yet not terrible,
That I should fear; nor sociably mild,
As Raphael, that I should much confide;
But solemn and sublime; whom, not to offend,
With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.
He ended; and the archangel soon drew nigh,
Not in his shape celestial, but as man
Clad to meet man: over his lucid arms
A military vest of purple flow'd,
Livelier than Meliboan3, or the grain
Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old
In time of truce; Iris had dipt the woof:
His starry helm unbuckled show'd him prime
In manhood where youth ended: by his side,
As in a glistering zodiac, hung the sword,
Satan's dire dread; and in his hand the spear.
Adam bow'd low: he, kingly, from his state
Inclined not, but his coming thus declared:
Adam, Heaven's high behest no preface needs:
Sufficient that thy prayers are heard; and Death,
against the king of Syria, when he levied war against a single man, not like a generous enemy, but, like a base assassin, endeavoured to take him by surprise; namely, Elisha, for having disclosed the designs of the king of Syria to the king of Israel, 2 Kings, vi. 13, &c.-NEWTON.
The severe censure on this makes me fancy that Milton hinted at the war with Holland, which broke out in 1664, when we surprised and took the Dutch Bordeaux fleet before war was proclaimed; which the whigs much exclaimed against.—WARBURTON.
J Livelier than Melibaan.
Melibœa, a city of Thessaly, famous for its dyeing the noblest purple. dye of Tyre.-HUME.
Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress,
Defeated of his seizure many days,
Given thee of grace; wherein thou mayst repent,
And one bad act with many deeds well done
Mayst cover well may then thy Lord, appeased,
Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim;
But longer in this Paradise to dwell
Permits not to remove thee I am come,
And send thee from the garden forth, to till
The ground whence thou wast taken, fitter soil.
He added not; for Adam, at the news
Heart-struck, with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,
That all his senses bound: Eve, who unseen,
Yet all had heard, with audible lament
Discover'd soon the place of her retire:
O unexpected stroke, worse than of death!
Must I thus leave theek, Paradise? thus leave
Thee, native soil! these happy walks and shades,
Fit haunt of gods? where I had hope to spend,
Quiet though sad, the respite of that day
That must be mortal to us both. O flowers,
That never will in other climate grow,
My early visitation, and my last
At even, which I bred up with tender hand
From the first opening bud, and gave ye names!
Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank
Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount?
Thee lastly, nuptial bower! by me adorn'd
With what to sight or smell was sweet! from thee
How shall I part, and whither wander down
Into a lower world, to this obscure
And wild? how shall we breathe in other air
Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits?
Whom thus the angel interrupted mild:
Lament not, Eve; but patiently resign
What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart,
Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine:
Thy going is not lonely; with thee goes
Thy husband; him to follow thou art bound:
Where he abides, think there thy native soil.
Adam, by this from the cold sudden damp
Recovering, and his scatter'd spirits return'd,
To Michael thus his humble words address'd:
Celestial, whether among the thrones, or named
Of them the highest; for such of shape may seem
k Must I thus leave thee?
These sentiments of Eve exceed, both in pathos and variety, the farewell of Philoctetes to his cave, which Milton probably had in view. Sophoc. Philoct. v. 1487; ed. P. Stephan. There is nothing in all poetry more beautiful and affecting than this passage.
Prince above princes! gently hast thou told
Thy message, which might else in telling wound,
And in performing end us; what besides
Of sorrow, and dejection, and despair,
Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring;
Departure from this happy place, our sweet
Recess, and only consolation left
Familiar to our eyes: all places else
Inhospitable appear, and desolate;
Nor knowing us, nor known: and, if by prayer
Incessant I could hope to change the will
Of Him who all things can, I would not cease
To weary him with my assiduous cries:
But prayer against his absolute decree
No more avails than breath against the wind,
Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth :
Therefore to his great bidding I submit.
This most afflicts me; that departing hence,
As from his face I shall be hid, deprived
His blessed countenance: here I could frequent
With worship place by place where he vouchsafed
Presence Divine; and to my sons relate ;-
On this mount he appear'd; under this tree
Stood visible; among these pines his voice
I heard; here with him at this fountain talk'd:
So many grateful altars1 I would rear
Of grassy turf, and pile up every stone
Of lustre from the brook, in memory
Or monument to ages; and thereon
Offer sweet-smelling gums, and fruits, and flowers.
In yonder nether world where shall I seek
His bright appearances, or footstep trace?
For though I fled him angry, yet, recall'd
To life prolong'd and promised race, I now
Gladly behold though but his utmost skirts
Of glory; and far off his steps adore.
To whom thus Michael with regard benign:
Adam, thou know'st heaven his, and all the earth;
Not this rock only; his omnipresence fills
Besides the beauty of the sentiments, there seems to be a propriety in this passage which the commentators have not remarked. From the desire which mankind have had in all ages of preserving the memory of important and interesting transactions, many expedients were employed to transmit knowledge to succeeding ages, before the invention of writing: groves and altars, tombs, pillars, and heaps of stones, were the representative symbols of past transactions, and memorials to instruct posterity. Without mentioning many other particular instances, which are enumerated by different writers, we find from various parts of the book of Genesis, that the patriarchs raised altars where God had appeared to them. See ch. xi. 7, xxv. 25.-To this custom of the primitive and patriarchal ages Milton seems to have alluded.-BISHOP BURGESS.
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