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 unreproved, and leave

No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope

That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream,

Waking thou never will consent to do.

Be not disheartened 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 bosomed smells,

Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store.”

So cheered he his fair spouse, and she was cheered;

But silently a gentle tear let fall

From either eye, and wiped them with her hair;

Two other precious drops that ready stood,

Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell

Kissed, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse

And pious awe, that feared to have offended.

So all was cleared, and to the field they haste.

But first, from under shady arborous 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 bowed adoring, and began

Their orisons, each morning duly paid

In various style; for neither various style

Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise

Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced, or sung

Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence

Flowed 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 wonderous fair; Thyself how wonderous then!

Unspeakable, who sitst 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 crownest 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 climbest,

And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fallest.

Moon, that now meetest the orient sun, now flyest,

With the fixed Stars, fixed in their orb that flies;

And ye five other wandering Fires, that move

In mystic dance not without song, resound