His praise, who out of darkness called up light.

Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth

Of Nature’s womb, that in quaternion run

Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix

And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change

Vary to our great Maker still new praise.

Ye Mists and Exhalations, that now rise

From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray,

Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,

In honour to the world’s great Author rise;

Whether to deck with clouds the uncoloured sky,

Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,

Rising or falling still advance his praise.

His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow,

Breathe soft or loud; and, wave your tops, ye Pines,

With every plant, in sign of worship wave.

Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,

Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.

Join voices, all ye living Souls: Ye Birds,

That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend,

Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.

Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk

The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;

Witness if I be silent, morn or even,

To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,

Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.

Hail, universal Lord, be bounteous still

To give us only good; and if the night

Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed,

Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark!”

So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts

Firm peace recovered soon, and wonted calm.

On to their morning’s rural work they haste,

Among sweet dews and flowers; where any row

Of fruit-trees over-woody reached too far

Their pampered boughs, and needed hands to check

Fruitless embraces: or they led the vine

To wed her elm; she, spoused, about him twines

Her marriageable arms, and with him brings

Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn

His barren leaves. Them thus employed beheld

With pity Heaven’s high King, and to him called

Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deigned

To travel with Tobias, and secured

His marriage with the seven-times-wedded maid.

“Raphael,” said he, “thou hearest what stir on Earth

Satan, from Hell ’scaped through the darksome gulf,

Hath raised in Paradise; and how disturbed

This night the human pair; how he designs

In them at once to ruin all mankind.

Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend

Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade

Thou findest him from the heat of noon retired,

To respite his day-labour with repast,

Or with repose; and such discourse bring on,

As may advise him of his happy state,

Happiness in his power left free to will,

Left to his own free will, his will though free,

Yet mutable; whence warn him to beware

He swerve not, too secure: Tell him withal

His danger, and from whom; what enemy,

Late fallen himself from Heaven, is plotting now

The fall of others from like state of bliss;

By violence? no, for that shall be withstood;

But by deceit and lies: This let him know,