When first on this delightful land he spreads

His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,

Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile

Earth

After soft showers; and sweet the com

ing on

Of grateful Evening mild; then silent Night,

With this her solemn bird, and this fair Moon,

And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train:

But neither breath of Morn, when she ascends

With charm of earliest birds; nor rising Sun

On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower,

Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers;

Nor grateful Evening mild; nor silent Night,

With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon,

Or glittering star-light, without thee, is

sweet.

ADAM AND EVE'S MORNING HYMN.

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 power 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 wandering fires, that

Far off the flying fiend. At last appear Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof,

And thrice threefold the gates; three folds were brass,

Three iron, three of adamantine rock Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire, Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat

On either side a formidable shape; The one seem'd woman to the waist and fair;

But ended foul in many a scaly fold Voluminous and vast; a serpent arm'd With mortal sting: About her middle round

A cry of Hell-hounds, never ceasing, bark'd

With wide Cerberian mouths full loud, and rung

A hideous peal; yet, when they list, would creep,

If aught disturb'd their noise, into her womb,

And kennel there; yet there still bark'd and howl'd, Within unseen. these

Far less abhorr'd than

Vex'd Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian

shore;

Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when, call'd

In secret, riding through the air she

comes,

Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance

With Lapland witches, while the laboring Moon

Eclipses at their charms. The other shape,

If shape it might be call'd that shape had none

Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb;

Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd,

For each seem'd either: black it stood as night,

Fierce as ten furies, terrible as Hell, And shook a dreadful dart; what seem'd

his head

The likeness of a kingly crown had on. Satan was now at hand, and from his seat The monster moving onward came as fast

With horrid strides; Hell trembled as he strode.

The undaunted fiend what this might be admired,

Admired, not feared; God and his son except,

Created thing naught valued he, nor shunn'd;

And with disdainful look thus first began: "Whence and what art thou, execrable shape,

That darest, though grim and terrible, advance

Thy miscreated front athwart my way To yonder gates? through them I mean

to pass,

The intricate wards, and every bolt and

bar

Of massy iron or solid rock with ease Unfastens. On a sudden open fly, With impetuous recoil and jarring sound, The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate

Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook

Of Erebus. She open'd, but to shut Excell'd her power; the gates wide open stood,

That with extended wings a banner'd host,

Under spread ensigns marching, might pass through

With horse and chariots rank'd in loose

array;

So wide they stood, and like a furnace mouth

Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy

flame.

Before their eyes in sudden view appear The secrets of the hoary deep; a dark Illimitable ocean, without bound, Without dimension, where length, breadth, and height,

And time, and place are lost; where eldest Night

And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise

Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions fierce,

Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring

Their embryon atoms; they around the flag

Of each his faction, in their several clans, Light arm'd or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift, or slow,

Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the sands

Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil,

Levied to side with warring winds, and poise

Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere,

He rules a moment: Chaos umpire sits, And by decision more embroils the fray, By which he reigns: next him high arbiter

L'ALLEGRO.

HENCE loathed Melancholy,

Of Cerberus, and blackest Midnight born,

In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sighs unholy,

Find out some uncouth cell,

Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings,

And the night raven sings;

There under ebon shades, and lowbrow'd rocks,

As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian desert everdwell. But come, thou Goddess fair and free, In Heav'n yclep'd Euphrosyne, And by men, heart-easing Mirth, Whom lovely Venus at a birth With two sister Graces more To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore: Or whether (as some sages sing) The frolic wind that breathes the spring, Zephyr, with Aurora, playing, As he met her once a maying, There on beds of vi'lets blue, And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew, Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair, So buxom, blithe, and debonair.

Haste, thee, Nymph, and bring with

thee

Jest and youthful Jollity,

Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides:
Come, and trip it as you go
On the light fantastic toe,

And in thy right hand lead with thee,
The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty;
And, if I give thee honor due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free:
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing startle the dull night,
From his watch-tow'r in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rise;
Then to come, in spite of sorrow,
And at my window bid good morrow
Through the sweetbrier, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine:
While the cock with lively din
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or the barn door,
Stoutly struts his dames before:
Oft list'ning how the hounds and horn
Cheerly rouse the slumb'ring morn,
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing shrill :
Some time walking not unseen
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great Sun begins his state,
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liv'ries dight;
While the ploughman, near at hand,
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milk-maid singeth blithe,
And the mower whets his scythe,
And ev'ry shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Straight mine eye hath caught new
pleasures,

While the landscape round it measures,
Russet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do stray;
Mountains on whose barren breast
The lab'ring clouds do often rest;
Meadows trim with daisies pied;
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide:
Tow'rs and battlements it sees

Bosom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps some beauty lies,
The cynosure of neighb'ring eyes.
Hard by, a cottage-chimney smokes,
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrsis met,
Are at their sav'ry dinner set

Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses:
And then in haste her bow'r she leaves.
With Thestylis to bind the sheaves;
Or, if the earlier season lead,
To the tann'd haycock in the mead.
Sometimes, with secure delight,
The upland hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecks sound
To many a youth, and many a maid,
Dancing in the chequer'd shade;
And young and old come forth to play
On a sunshine holiday.

Till the livelong daylight fail;
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale,
With stories told of many a feat,
How fairy Mab the junkets ate;
She was pinch'd, and pull'd, she said,
And he by friar's lantern led;
Tells how the drudging goblin sweat
To earn his cream-bowl duly set,
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn,
His shad'wy flail had thresh'd the corn,
That ten day-laborers could not end;
Then lies him down the lubber fiend,
And, stretch'd out all the chimney's
length,

Basks at the fire his hairy strength,
And, cropful, out of doors he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whisp'ring winds soon lull'd asleep.
Tow'red cities please us then,
And the busy hum of men,
Where throngs of knights and barons

bold

In weeds of peace high triumphs hold,
With store of ladies, whose bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
Of wit, or arms, while both contend
To win her grace, whom all commend,
There let Hymen oft appear
In saffron robes, with taper clear,
And pomp, and feast, and revelry,