Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape
Comes this way moving, seems another morn 310
Ris'n on mid-noon; some great behest from heav'n
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 fertil growth, and by disburd'ning grows
More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare. 320
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
To entertain our angel guest, as he
Beholding shall confess, that here on earth
God hath dispens'd his bounties as in heav'n. 330
Vedi colà un' Angel, che s' appresta
Per venir verso noi.'
10 morn] See Crashaw's Delights, p. 52.
• Who's this that comes arched in rayes that scorn
Acquaintance with the Sun? What second morn
At midday opes a presence ?*
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 rin'd, 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 meathes
From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press'd
She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold
Wants her fit vessels pure; then strews the ground
With rose and odours from the shrub unfum'd.
Mean while our primitive great sire, to meet 350
His god-like guest, walks forth, without more train
Accompany'd 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
333 choice to choose] So P. L. viii. 130. 'move motion.' ix. 289.thoughts misthought,' xi. 427.' sinned sin.' Newton. 348 vessels] The shell of the fruits. See Book iv. ver. 335 and in the rind,
Still as they thirsted, scoop the brimming stream.'
345 & the Brif Secryption of thosery? b. Fells hour te Rifcian, dink me the custed from barrie
Of horses led and grooms besmear'd with gold
Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape.
Nearer his presence Adam, though 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 365
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 the 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, though spirits of heav'n,
To visit thee: lead on then where thy bower 375
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 her self, more lovely fair 380
Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feign'd
Of three that in Mount Ida naked strove,
356 besmear'd] Hor. Od. iv. 9. 14.
• Aurum vestibus illitum. Hume.
357 agape] agaze. Bentl. MS.
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 385 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 390 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, though spring and autumn here Danc'd hand in hand. A while 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 nourishment exhale
From her moist continent to higher orbs.
The sun, that light imparts to all, receives
From all his alimental recompence
In humid exhalations, and at even
Sups with the ocean. Though in heav'n the trees
Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines
Yield nectar; tho' from off the boughs each morn
We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground
Cover'd with pearly grain; yet God hath here 430
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
422 moist] Marino's Sl. of the Innocents, lib. ii. st. xcv. From the cold frost of that moist orbe secure."
In Hamlet, act i. s. 1. the moon is called 'moist star.'
46 Sups] Lovelace's Post. Poems, p. 15.
The sun sups with the deep.' Todd.
6 trees] See Merrick's Triphiodorus, ver. 252.
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