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 heavens wide circuit, let it speak 100 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 attribute, Though numberless, to his omnipotence, That to corporeal substances could add
Speed almost spiritual: me thou think'st not
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. But this I urge, Admitting motion in the heavens, to show 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 wand'ring course now high, now low, then
Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,
In six thou seest; and what if seventh to these The planet earth, so steadfast 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, 140 Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, To the terrestrial moon be as a star
Enlight'ning 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, desert and desolate,
Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 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 ev'n, 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 heav'n.
To whom thus Adam, clear'd of doubt, reply'd.
How fully hast thou satisfy'd me, pure Intelligence of heaven, angel serene, And freed from intricacies, taught to live The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts To interrupt the sweet of life, from which GOD hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, And not molest us, unless we our selves Seek them with wand'ring thoughts, and notions But apt the mind or fancy is to rove
Uncheck'd, and of her roving is no end;
Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learn, That not to know at large of things remote From use, obscure and subtle, but to know That which before us lies in daily life, Is the prime wisdom; what is more, is fume, Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, And renders us in things that most concern Unpractis'd, unprepar'd, and still to seek. Therefore from this high pitch let us descend A lower flight, and speak of things at hand Useful, whence haply mention may arise Of something not unseasonable to ask By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign'd. Thee I have heard relating what was done Ere my remembrance: now hear me relate My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard; 205 And day is not yet spent; till then thou seest How subtly to detain thee I devise,
Inviting thee to hear while I relate, Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply:
For while I sit with thee, I seem in heaven, 210 And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear
Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst And hunger both, from labour, at the hour Of sweet repast: they satiate, and soon fill, Though pleasant; but thy words, with grace divine Imbu'd, bring to their sweetness no satiety. To whom thus Raphael answer'd heavenly meek. Nor are thy lips ungraceful, sire of men, Nor tongue ineloquent; for GOD on thee Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd Inward and outward both, his image fair:
Speaking or mute all comeliness and grace Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms. Nor less think we in heaven of thee on earth,
Than of our fellow servant, and inquire Gladly into the ways of GOD with man: For GOD we see hath honour'd thee, and set On man his equal love. Say therefore on; For I that day was absent, as befell, Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, Far on excursion toward the gates of hell, Squar'd in full legion, such command we had,
« ZurückWeiter » |