And grace that won who saw to wish her stay, Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowers, To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom, Her nursery; they at her coming sprung,
And, touch'd by her fair tendance, gladlier grew. Yet went she not, as not with such discourse Delighted, or not capable her ear
Of what was high; such pleasure she reserv'd, Adam relating, she sole auditress;
Her husband the relater she preferr'd Before the Angel, and of him to ask
Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute With conjugal caresses; from his lip
Not words alone pleas'd her. O! when meet now Such pairs, in love and mutual honour join'd? With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went, Not unattended; for on her, as Queen, A pomp of winning Graces waited still, And from about her shot darts of desire Into all eyes, to wish her still in sight. And Raphael now, to Adam's doubt propos'd, Benevolent and facile thus replied.
To ask or search, I blame thee not; for Heaven Is as the book of God before thee set,
Wherein to read his wonderous works, and learn His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years : This to attain, whether Heaven move or Earth,
Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest From Man or Angel the great Architect Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge His secrets to be scann'd by them who ought Rather admire; or, if they list to try Conjecture, he his fabrick of the Heavens Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move His laughter at their quaint opinions wide Hereafter; when they come to model Heaven And calculate the stars, how they will wield The mighty frame; how build, unbuild, contrive To save appearances; how gird the sphere With centrick and eccentrick scribbled o'er, Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb :
Already by thy reasoning this I guess,
Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest That bodies bright and greater should not serve The less not bright, nor Heaven such journeys run, Earth sitting still, when she alone receives The benefit: Consider first, that great Or bright infers not excellence: the Earth Though, in comparison of Heaven, so small, Nor glistering, may of solid good contain More plenty than the sun that barren shines ; Whose virtue on itself works no effect,
But in the fruitful Earth; there first receiv'd His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. Yet not to Earth are those bright luminaries
Officious; but to thee, Earth's habitant. And for the Heaven's wide circuit, let it speak The Maker's high magnificence, who built
So spacious, and his line stretch'd out so far; That Man may know he dwells not in his own; An edifice too large for him to fill,
Lodg'd in a small partition; and the rest Ordain'd for uses to his Lord best known. The swiftness of those circles áttribute, Though numberless, to his Omnipotence, That to corporeal substances could add
Speed almost spiritual: Me thou think'st not slow, Who since the morning-hour set out from Heaven Where God resides, and ere mid-day arriv'd
In Eden; distance inexpressible
By numbers that have name. Admitting motion in the Heavens, to shew Invalid that which thee to doubt it mov❜d; Not that I so affirm, though so it seem
To thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth. God, to remove his ways from human sense, Plac'd Heaven from Earth so far, that earthly sight, If it presume, might err in things too high, And no advantage gain. What if the sun Be center to the world; and other stars,
By his attractive virtue and their own Incited, dance about him various rounds?
Their wandering course now high, now low, then
Progressive, retrogade, or standing still,
In six thou seest; and what if seventh to these The planet earth, so stedfast though she seem, Insensibly three different motions move? Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, Mov'd contrary with thwart obliquities; Or save the sun his labour, and that swift Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb suppos'd,
Invisible else above all stars, the wheel Of day and night; which needs not thy belief, If earth, industrious of herself, fetch day Travelling east, and with her part averse
From the sun's beam meet night, her other part Still luminous by his ray.
What if that light, Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, To the terrestrial moon be as a star, Enlightening her by day, as she by night
This earth? reciprocal, if land be there, Fields and inhabitants: Her spots thou seest
As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce Fruits in her soften'd soil for some to eat Allotted there; and other suns perhaps, With their attendant moons, thou wilt descry, Communicating male and female light;
Which two great sexes animate the world, Stor'd in each orb perhaps with some that live, For such vast room in nature unpossess'd By living soul, desart and desolate,
Only to shine, yet scarce to cóntribute Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far Down to this habitable, which returns
Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. But whether thus these things, or whether not; Whether the sun predominant in Heaven, Rise on the earth; or earth rise on the sun; He from the east his flaming road begin ; Or she from west her silent course advance, With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps On her soft axle, while she paces even, And bears thee soft with the smooth air along; Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid; Leave them to God above; him serve, and fear! Of other creatures, as him pleases best, Wherever plac'd, let him dispose; joy thou In what he gives to thee, this Paradise And thy fair Eve; Heaven is for thee too high To know what passes there; be lowly wise : Think only what concerns thee, and thy being; Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there Live, in what state, condition, or degree; Contented that thus far hath been reveal'd Not of Earth only, but of highest Heaven. To whom thus Adam, clear'd of doubt, replied. How fully thou hast satisfied me, pure Intelligence of Heaven, angel serene! And, freed from intricacies, taught to live
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