In Paradise of all things common else.
By thee adult'rous lust was driv'n from men
Among the bestial herds to range; by thee,
Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure,
Relations dear and all the charities

Of father, son, and brother, first were known.
Far be it, that I should write thee sin or blame,
Or think thee unbefitting holiest place,
Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets,
Whose bed is undefil'd and chaste pronounc'd,
Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs us'd.
Here love his golden shafts employs, here lights
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings,
Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile
Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd,
Casual fruition; nor in court amours,

Mix'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball,
Or serenade, which the starved lover sings
To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain.
These lull'd by nightingales embracing slept,
And on their naked limbs the flow'ry roof
Shower'd roses which the morn repair'd. Sleep on,
Blest pair; and O yet happiest, if ye seek
No happier state, and know to know no more.

EVE'S DREAM.

Now morn her rosy steps in th' eastern clime Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, When Adam wak'd, so custom'd; for his sleep Was airy light, from pure digestion bred, And temp❜rate vapours bland, which th' only sound Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, Lightly dispers'd, and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough; so much the more His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve, With tresses discompos'd, and glowing cheek, As through unquiet rest: he on his side 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 soft touching, whisper'd thus: Awake, My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found, Heav'ns last best gift, my ever new delight, Awake; the morning shines and the fresh field Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How Nature paints her colours, 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 sole, in whom my thoughts find all repose,
My glory, my perfection, glad I see

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 offence and trouble, which my mind
Knew never till this irksome night: Methought

Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk
With gentle voice, I thought it thine; it said,
Why sleep'st thou, Eve? Now is the pleasant time,
The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd song; now reigns
Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light
Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain,
If none regard; Heav'n wakes with all his eyes,
Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire?
In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment
Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.

I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;
To find thee I directed then my walk;
And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways
That brought me on a sudden to the tree
Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seem'd,
Much fairer to my fancy than by day:
And as I wond'ring look'd, beside it stood
One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Hea-
By us oft seen; his dewy locks distill'd
Ambrosia; on that tree he also gaz'd;

[ven

And, O fair plant! said he, with fruit surcharg'd,
Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet,
Nor God, nor man? Is knowledge so despis'd?
Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste?
Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold
Longer thy offer'd good; why else set here?
Thus said, he paus'd not, but, with vent'rous arm,
He pluck'd, he tasted; me damp horror chill'd
At such bold words, vouch'd with a deed so bold:
But he thus, overjoy'd; O fruit divine!
Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt,
Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit

For Gods, yet able to make Gods of men:
And why not Gods of men, since good, the more
Communicated, more abundant grows,

The Author not impair'd, but honour'd more?
Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve,
Partake thou also, happy tho' thou art,
Happier thou may'st be, worthier canst not be:
Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods,
Thyself a Goddess, not to earth confin'd,
But sometimes in the air, as we sometimes
Ascend to Heav'n, by merit thine, and see
What life the Gods live there, and such live thou.

So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held,
Ev'n to my mouth of that same fruit held part,
Which he had pluck'd; the pleasant savoury smell
So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought,
Could not but taste. Forth with up to the clouds
With him I flew, and underneath beheld
The earth outstretch'd immense, a prospect wide
And various: wond'ring at my flight and change
To this high exaltation; suddenly

My guide was goue, and I, methought, sunk down,
And fell asleep; but O how glad I wak'd,
To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her night
Related, and thus Adam answer'd sad.

Best image of myself, and dearer half,
The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep
Affects me equally; nor can I like.

This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear;
Yet evil whence? In thee can harbour none,
Created pure. But know that in the soul
Are many lesser faculties, that serve
Reason as chief: among these fancy next
Her office holds; of all external things
Which the five watchful senses represent,
She forms imaginations, airy shapes,
Which reason joining or disjoining, frames
All that we affirm or what deny, and call
Our knowledge or opinion; then retires
Into her private cell when Nature rests.
Oft in her absence mimic fancy wakes
To imitate her; but misjoining shapes,
Wild works produces oft, and most in dreams,
Ill matching words and deeds long past or late.
Some such resemblances, methinks, I find
Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream,
But with addition strange; yet be not sad.
Evil into the mind of God or man

May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave
No spot or blame behind: which gives me hope
That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream,
Waking thou never wilt consent to do.

Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud those looks,
That wont to be more cheerful and serene,
Than when fair morning first smiles on the world;
And let us to our fresh employments rise
Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers
That open now their choicest bosom'd smells,
Reserv'd from night, and kept for thee in store.

So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd, But silently a gentle tear let fall

From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair;
Two other precious drops that ready stood,
Each in their chrystal sluice, he, ere they fell,
Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse
And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended.
So all was clear'd, and to the field they haste.
But first, from under shady arb'rous roof,
Soon as they forth were come to open sight
Of day-spring, and the sun, who scarce up risen,
With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean brim,
Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray,
Discovering in wide landskip all the east
Of Paradise, and Eden's happy plains,
Lowly they bow'd, adoring, and began
Their orisons, each morning duly paid
In various stile; for neither various stile
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise
Their Maker, in fit strains pronounc'd or sung
Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence

Flow'd from their lips, in prose or numerous verse,
More tuneable than needed lute or harp
To add more sweetness; and they thus began.
These are thy glorious works, Parent of Good,
Almighty; thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then!
Unspeakable, who sit'st above these Heavens
To us invisible, or dimly seen

In these thy lowest works; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine.

Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne, rejoicing; ye in Heaven, On earth join all ye creatures to extol

Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,

Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere,
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul,
Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou
fall'st.

Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st,
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies,
And ye five other wand'ring fires that move
In mystic dance, not without song, resound
His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix
And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mists and exhalations that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey,
Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rise,
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,
Rising or falling, still advance his praise.
His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices, all ye living souls: ye birds,
That, singing, up to Heaven gate ascend,
Bear on your wings, and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be silent, morn, or even,
To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail! universal Lord, be bounteous still
To give us only good; and the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.

THE ANGEL RAPHAEL SENT TO WARN
ADAM OF HIS DANGER.
So spake th' eternal Father, and fulfill'd
All justice: nor delay'd the winged Saint
After his charge receiv'd; but from among
Thousand celestial Ardors, where he stood
Veil'd with his gorgeous wings, up springing light,
Flew thro' the midst of Heav'n; th' angelic choirs,
On each hand parting, to his speed gave way
Through all th' empyreal road; till at the gate

Of Heav'n arriv'd, the gate self-open'd wide,
On golden hinges turning, as by work
Divine, the Sovereign architect had fram'd.
From hence no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight,
Star interpos'd, however small he sees,
Not unconform to other shining globes,

Earth, and the gard'n of God, with cedars crown'd
Above all hills. As when by night the glass

Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes
Imagin'd lands and regions in the moon;
Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades,
Delos or Samos, first appearing, keus,

A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight
He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky
Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing.
Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan
Winnows the buxom air; till within soar
Of tow'ring eagles, to all the fowls he seems
A phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole bird,
When to inshrine his reliques in the sun's
Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies.
At once on th' eastern cliff of Paradise
He lights, and to his proper shape returns
A Seraph wing'd; six wings he wore, to shade
His lineaments divine; the pair that clad
Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast
With regal ornament; the middle pair
Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round
Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold
And colours dipt in Heav'n; the third his feet
Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail,
Sky-tinctur'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood,
And shook his plumes, that heav'nly fragrance fill'd
The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands
Of angels under watch; and to his state
And to his message high in honour rise;
For on some message high they guess'd him bound.
Their glittering tents he pass'd, and now is come
Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh,
And flow'ring odours, cassia, nard, and balm;
A wilderness of sweets; for Nature here
Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will
Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet,
Wild above rule or art; enormous bliss.
Him through the spicy forest onward come
Adam discern'd, as in the door he sat

Of his cool bow'r, while now the mounted sun
Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm [needs:
Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam
And Eve within, due at her hour, prepar'd
For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please
True appetite, and not disrelish thirst
Of nect'rous draughts between, from milky stream,
Berry or grape: to whom thus Adam call'd:

Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight behold
Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape
Comes this way moving; seems another morn
Ris'n on mid-noon; some great behest from Heaven
To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe
This day to be our guest. But go with speed,
And what thy stores contain, bring forth, and pour
Abundance, fit to honour and receive

Our heav'nly stranger: well we may afford
Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow
From large bestow'd, where Nature multiplies
Her fertile growth, and by disburd'ning grows
More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare.

To whom thus Eve. Adam, earth's hallow'd
mould,

Of God inspir'd, small store will serve, where store,
All seasons, ripe for use, hangs on the stalk;
Save what by frugal storing firmness gains
To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes:
But I will haste, and from each bough and brake,
Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such choice
To entertain our Angel guest, as he

Beholding shall confess, that here on earth
God hath dispens'd his bounties as in Heaven.
So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent,
What choice to choose for delicacy best,
What order, so contriv'd as not to mix
Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change;
Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk
Whatever Earth, all-bearing mother, yields
In India East or West, or middle shore
In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where
Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kinds, in coat
Rough or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell,
She gathers, tribute large, and on the board
Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the grape
She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths
From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press'd
She tempers dulcet creams; nor these to hold
Wants her fit vessels pure; then strows the ground
With rose and odours from the shrub unfum'd.

Meanwhile our primitive great sire, to meet
His god-like guest, walks forth, without more train
Accompanied than with his own complete
Perfections; in himself was all his state,
More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits
On princes, when their rich retinue long
Of horses led, and grooms besmear'd with gold,
Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape.
Nearer his presence Adam, tho' not aw'd,
Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek,
As to a superior nature, bowing low,
Thus said. Native of Heav'n, for other place
None can than Heav'n such glorious shape contain;
Since by descending from the thrones above,
Those happy places thou hast deign'd a while
To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us
Two only, who yet by sov'reign gift possess
This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower
To rest, and what the garden choicest bears
To sit and taste, till this meridian heat
Be over, and the sun more cool decline.
Whom thus th' angelic Virtue answer'd mild:
Adam, I therefore came; nor art thou such
Created, or such place hast here to dwell,
As may not oft invite, tho' Spirits of Heaven,
To visit thee; lead on then where thy bower
O'ershades; for these mid-hours, till ev'ning rise,

I have at will. So to the sylvan lodge
They came, that like Pomona's arbour smil'd
With flow'rets deck'd and fragrant smells; but Eve
Undeck'd, save with herself, more lovely fair
Than Wood-Nymph, or the fairest Goddess feign'd
Of three that in mount Ida naked strove,

Stood to entertain her guest from Heav'n; no veil
She needed, virtue-proof; no thought infirm
Alter'd her cheek. On whom the Angel hail
Bestow'd, the holy salutation us'd

Long after to blest Mary, second Eve.

Hail Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful womb Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons Than with these various fruits the trees of God Have heap'd this table. Rais'd of grassy turf Their table was, and mossy seats had round, And on her ample square from side to side All autumn pil'd, tho' spring and autumn here Danc'd hand in hand. Awhile discourse they hold: No fear lest dinner cool; when thus began Our Author. Heav'nly stranger, please to taste These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom All perfect good, unmeasur'd out, descends, To us for food and for delight hath caus'd The earth to yield; unsavoury food perhaps To spiritual natures; only this I know, That one celestial Father gives to all.

To whom the Angel. Therefore what he gives (Whose praise be ever sung) to man in part Spiritual, may of purest Spirits be found

No ingrateful food: and food alike those pure
Intelligential substances require,

As doth your rational; and both contain
Within them every lower faculty

Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste,
Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate,

And corporeal to incorporeal turn.

For know, whatever was created, needs
To be sustain'd and fed; of elements
The grosser feeds the purer, earth the sea,
Earth and the sea feed air, the air those fires
Ethereal, and as lowest first the moon;
Whence in her visage round those spots unpurg'd
Vapours not yet into her substance turn'd.
Nor doth the moon no nourishments exhale
From her moist continent to higher orbs.
The sun, that light imparts to all, receives
from all his alimental recompense
I humid exhalations, and at even

Sups with the ocean. Though in Heav'n the trees
Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines
Yield nectar; though from off the boughs each morn
We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground
Cover'd with pearly grain: yet God hath here
Varied his bounty so with new delights,
As may compare with Heaven; and to taste
Think not I shall be nice. So down they sat,
And to their viands fell; nor seemingly
The Angel, nor in mist, the common gloss
Of theologians; but with keen dispatch
Of real hunger, and concoctive heat

To transubstantiate: what redounds, transpires

Through Spirits with ease; nor wonder, if by fire
Of sooty coal th' empiric alchemist
Can turn, or holds it possible to turn,
Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold

As from the mine. Mean while at table Eve
Minister'd naked, and their flowing cups
With pleasant liquors crown'd: O innocence
Deserving Paradise! if ever, then,

Then had the sons of God excuse to have been
Enamour'd at that sight; but in those hearts
Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousy
Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.

RAPHAEL'S ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION.

Let there be light, said God, and forthwith light
Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure,
Sprung from the deep, and from her native east
To journey through the airy gloom began,
Spher'd in a radiant cloud; for yet the sun
Was not; she in a cloudy tabernacle
Sojourn'd the while ; God saw the light was good;
And light from darkness by the hemisphere
Divided: light the day, and darkness night
He nam'd. Thus was the first day ev'n and morn:
Nor past uncelebrated, nor unsung

By the celestial quires, when orient light
Exhaling first from darkness, they beheld;
Birth-day of Heav'n and Earth; with joy and shout
The hollow universal orb they fill'd,

And touch'd their golden harps, and hymning prais'd
God and his works, Creator, him they sung,
Both when first evening was, and when first morn.
Again, said God, let there be firmament

Amid the waters, and let it divide

The waters from the waters: and God made
The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure,
Transparent, elemental air, diffus'd

In circuit to the uttermost convex

:

Of this great round: partition firm and sure,
The waters underneath from those above
Dividing for as Earth, so he the world
Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide
Christalline ocean, and the loud misrule
Of Chaos far remov'd, lest fierce extremes
Contiguous might distemper the whole frame:
And Heav'n he nam'd the firmament: so even
And morning chorus sung the second day.

The earth was form'd; but in the womb as yet
Of waters, embryon immature involv'd,
Appear'd not: over all the face of Earth
Main ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warm
Prolific humour soft'ning all her globe,
Fermented the great mother to conceive,
Satiate with genial moisture, when God said,
Be gather'd now, ye waters under Heav'n,
Into one place, and let dry land appear.
Immediately the mountains huge appear
Emergent, and their bare broad backs upheave
Into the clouds, their tops ascend the sky:
So high as heav'd the tumid hills, so low

Down sunk a hollow bottom, broad and deep,
Capacious bed of waters: thither they
Hasted with glad precipitance, uproll'd
As drops on dust conglobing from the dry;
Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct,

For haste; such flight the great command impress'd
On the swift floods: as armies at the call
Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard)
Troop to their standard, so the wat❜ry throng,
Wave rolling after wave, where way they found,
If steep with torrent rapture, if through plain,
Soft-ebbing; nor withstood them rock or hill,
But they, or under ground, or circuit wide
With serpent error wand'ring, found their way,
And on the washy oose deep channels wore;
Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry,
All but within those banks, where rivers now
Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train.
The dry land Earth, and the great receptacle
Of congregated waters, he call'd Seas:

And saw that it was good, and said, Let th' Earth
Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed,
And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind,
Whose seed is in herself upon the Earth.
He scarce had said, when the bare earth, till then
Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorn'd,
Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad
Her universal face with pleasant green,
Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flower'd
Opening their various colours, and made gay
Her bosom smelling sweet: and these scarce blown,
Forth flourish'd thick the clust' ring vine, forth crept
The smelling gourd, up stood the corny reed
Imbattel'd in her field, and th' humble shrub,
And bush with frizzled hair implicit: last
Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread
Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemm'd
Their blossoms; with high woods the hills were
crown'd

With tufts the vallies, and each fountain side;
With borders long the rivers: that Earth now
Seem'd like to Heav'n, a seat where Gods might
Or wander with delight, and love to haunt [dwell
Her sacred shades: tho' God had not yet rain'd
Upon the Earth, and man to till the ground
None was, but from the Earth a dewy mist
Went up and water'd all the ground, and each
Plant of the field, which, ere it was in th' Earth
God made, and every herb, before it grew
On the green stem; God saw that it was good:
So ev❜n and morn recorded the third day.

Again th' Almighty spake, Let there be lights
High in th' expanse of Heaven, to divide
The day from night; and let them be for signs,
For seasons, and for days, and circling years,
And let them be for lights, as I ordain
Their office in the firmament of Heav'n
To give light on the Earth; and it was so.

And God made two great lights, great for their use
To man, the greater to have rule by day,
The less by night altern; and made the stars,
And set them in the firmament of Heav'n,

Tilluminate the Earth, and rule the day
In their vicissitude, and rule the night,
And light from darkness to divide. God saw,
Surveying his great work, that it was good:
For of celestial bodies first the sun

A mighty sphere he fram'd, unlightsome first,
Tho' of ethereal mould: then form'd the moon
Globose, and every magnitude of stars,
And sow'd with stars the Heav'n thick as a field:
Of light by far the greater part he took,
Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and plac'd
In the sun's orb, made porous to receive
And drink the liquid light, firm to retain
Her gather'd beams, great palace now of light.
Hither, as to their fountain, other stars
Repairing in their golden urns draw light,
And hence the morning planet gilds her horns;
By tinctures or reflection they augment
Their small peculiar, though from human sight
So far remote, with diminution seen.
First in his east the glorious lamp was seen,
Regent of day, and all th' horison round
Invested with bright rays, jocund to run

His longitude thro' Heav'n's high road; the gray
Dawn, and the Pleiades before him danc'd,
Shedding sweet influence: less bright the moon,
But opposite in level'd west was set,

His mirror, with full face borrowing her light
From him, for other light she needed none
In that aspect, and still that distance keeps
Till night; then in the east her turn she shines,
Revolv'd on Heav'n's great axle, and her reign
With thousand lesser lights dividual holds,
With thousand thousand stars, that then appear'd
Spangling the hemisphere: then first adorn'd
With their bright luminaries that set and rose,
Glad ev'ning and glad morn crown'd the fourth day.
And God said, Let the waters generate
Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul:
And let fowl fly above the Earth, with wings
Display'd on th' open firmament of Heav'n;
And God created the great whales, and each
Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously
The waters generated by their kinds,

And every bird of wing after his kind;
And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying,
Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas,

And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill;
And let the fowl be multiply'd on th' Earth.
Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay
With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals
of fish that with their fins and shining scales
Glide under the green wave, in sculls that oft
Bank the mid sea: part single or with mate
Graze the sea-weed their pasture,and through groves
Of coral stray, or sporting with quick glance
Shew to the sun their wav'd coats dropt with gold,
Or in their pearly shells at ease, attend
Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food
In jointed armour watch: on smooth the seal,
And bended dolphins play: part huge of bulk
Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait