But that from us aught should ascend to heav'n
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 pray'r th' offended Deity, t' 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 transgressor, who for thee ordain'd
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 grac'd
The source of life; next favourable thou,
Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf'st,
Far other name deserving. But the field
To labour calls us now with sweat impos'd,
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 enjoin'
Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell,
What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks?
Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content.

So spake, so wish'd much humbled Eve, but fate Subscrib'd not; Nature first gave signs, impress'd On bird, beast, air, air suddenly eclips'd After short blush of morn; nigh in her sight The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his airy tour, Two birds of gayest plume before him drove : Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, First hunter then, pursu'd a gentle brace, Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind; Direct to th' eastern gate was bent their flight. Adam observ'd, and with his eye the chace Pursuing, not unmov'd to Eve thus spake :

O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh, Which heav'n 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 releas'd

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 pursu'd in th' 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 heav'nly fraught?
He err'd not, for by this the heav'nly bands
Down from a sky of jasper lighted now

In Paradise, and on a hill made halt,
A glorious apparition, had not doubt

And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adam's eye.
Not that more glorious, when the angels met
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'd. The princely hierach

In their bright stand there left his pow'rs to seize
Possession of the garden; he alone,

To find where Adam shelter'd took his way,
Not unperceiv'd 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 observ'd; for I descry
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hills,
One of the heav'nly 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 t' offend,
With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.
He ended; and th' 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 Melibœan, 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 glist'ring zodiac hung the sword,
Satan's dire dread, and in his hand the spear.
Adam bow'd low; he kingly from his state
Inclin'd not, but his coming thus declar'd:

Adam, heav'n's high behest no preface needs; Sufficient that thy pray'rs are heard, and Death, Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress, Defeated of his seizure, many days

Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou mayst repent, And one bad act, with many deeds well done, Mayst cover well may then thy Lord appeas'd, Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim;

Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.

END OF THE TENTH BOOK.

THE

ELEVENTH BOOK,

OF

PARADISE LOST.