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THE

FIFTH

O F

BOOK

PARADISE LOST.

THE ARGUMENT.

Morning approach'd, Eve relates to Adam her troublefome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts her : They come forth to their day labors: Their morning hymn at the door of their bower. God to render man inexcufable fends Raphael to admonish him of his obedience, of his free eftate, of his enemy near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever elfe may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Paradife, his appearance defcrib'd, his coming difcern'd by Adam afar off fitting at the door of his bower; he goes out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him with the choiceft fruits of Paradife got together by Eve; their discourse at table: Raphael performs his meffage, minds Adam of his ftate and of his enemy; relates at Adam's request who that enemy is, and how he came to be fo, beginning from his firft revolt in Heaven, and the occafion thereof; how he drew his legions after him to the parts of the north, and there incited them to rebel with him, perfuading all but only Abdiel a Seraph, who in argument diffuades and opposes him, then forfakes him.

PARADISE

N

LOST.

BOOK V.

OW morn her rofy steps in th' eastern clime
Advancing, fow'd the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam wak'd, fo custom'd, for his fleep
Was aery light from pure digeftion bred,
And temp'rate vapors bland, which th' only found
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
Lightly difpers'd, and the shrill matin fong
Of birds on every bough; fo much the more
His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve
With treffes difcompos'd, and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet reft: he on his fide

Leaning half rais'd, with looks of cordial love
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her hand foft touching, whifper'd thus. Awake
My faireft, my efpous'd, my latest found,
Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight,
Awake; the morning fhines, and the freth field
Calls us; we lofe the prime, to mark how fpring
Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove,

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What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,
How nature paints her colors, how the bee
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.

Such whisp'ring wak'd her, but with startled eye
On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake.

O fole in whom my thoughts find all repofe, My glory, my perfection, glad I fee

Thy face, and morn return'd; for I this night

(Such night till this I never pass'd) have dream'd,
If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee,
Works of day past, or morrow's next design,
But of offenfe and trouble, which my mind
Knew never till this irkfome night: methought
Clofe at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk.
With gentle voice, I thought it thine; it said,
Why fleep'ft thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time,
The cool, the filent, fave where filence yields
To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
Tunes fweeteft his love-labor'd fong; now reigns
Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light
Shadowy fets off the face of things; in vain,
If none regard; Heav'n wakes with all his eyes,
Whom to behold but thee, Nature's defire?
In whofe fight all things joy, with ravishment
Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.

I rofe as at thy call, but found thee not;
To find thee I directed then my walk;

And on, methought, alone I pafs'd through ways
That brought me on a sudden to the tree
Of interdicted knowledge; fair it feem'd,

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