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THE COMEDIAN AS THE LETTER C

I 

The World without Imagination 

1 Nota: man is the intelligence of his soil, 
2 The sovereign ghost. As such, the Socrates 
3 Of snails, musician of pears, principium 
4 And lex. Sed quaeritur: is this same wig 
5 Of things, this nincompated pedagogue, 
6 Preceptor to the sea? Crispin at sea 
7 Created, in his day, a touch of doubt. 
8 An eye most apt in gelatines and jupes, 
9 Berries of villages, a barber's eye, 
10 An eye of land, of simple salad-beds, 
11 Of honest quilts, the eye of Crispin, hung 
12 On porpoises, instead of apricots, 
13 And on silentious porpoises, whose snouts 
14 Dibbled in waves that were mustachios, 
15 Inscrutable hair in an inscrutable world. 

16 One eats one pat¨¦, even of salt, quotha. 
17 It was not so much the lost terrestrial, 
18 The snug hibernal from that sea and salt, 
19 That century of wind in a single puff. 
20 What counted was mythology of self, 
21 Blotched out beyond unblotching. Crispin, 
22 The lutanist of fleas, the knave, the thane, 
23 The ribboned stick, the bellowing breeches, cloak 
24 Of China, cap of Spain, imperative haw 
25 Of hum, inquisitorial botanist, 
26 And general lexicographer of mute 
27 And maidenly greenhorns, now beheld himself, 
28 A skinny sailor peering in the sea-glass. 
29 What word split up in clickering syllables 
30 And storming under multitudinous tones 
31 Was name for this short-shanks in all that brunt? 
32 Crispin was washed away by magnitude. 
33 The whole of life that still remained in him 
34 Dwindled to one sound strumming in his ear, 
35 Ubiquitous concussion, slap and sigh, 
36 Polyphony beyond his baton's thrust. 

37 Could Crispin stem verboseness in the sea, 
38 The old age of a watery realist, 
39 Triton, dissolved in shifting diaphanes 
40 Of blue and green? A wordy, watery age 
41 That whispered to the sun's compassion, made 
42 A convocation, nightly, of the sea-stars, 
43 And on the cropping foot-ways of the moon 
44 Lay grovelling. Triton incomplicate with that 
45 Which made him Triton, nothing left of him, 
46 Except in faint, memorial gesturings, 
47 That were like arms and shoulders in the waves, 
48 Here, something in the rise and fall of wind 
49 That seemed hallucinating horn, and here, 
50 A sunken voice, both of remembering 
51 And of forgetfulness, in alternate strain. 
52 Just so an ancient Crispin was dissolved. 
53 The valet in the tempest was annulled. 
54 Bordeaux to Yucatan, Havana next, 
55 And then to Carolina. Simple jaunt. 
56 Crispin, merest minuscule in the gates, 
57 Dejected his manner to the turbulence. 
58 The salt hung on his spirit like a frost, 
59 The dead brine melted in him like a dew 
60 Of winter, until nothing of himself 
61 Remained, except some starker, barer self 
62 In a starker, barer world, in which the sun 
63 Was not the sun because it never shone 
64 With bland complaisance on pale parasols, 
65 Beetled, in chapels, on the chaste bouquets. 
66 Against his pipping sounds a trumpet cried 
67 Celestial sneering boisterously. Crispin 
68 Became an introspective voyager. 

69 Here was the veritable ding an sich, at last, 
70 Crispin confronting it, a vocable thing, 
71 But with a speech belched out of hoary darks 
72 Noway resembling his, a visible thing, 
73 And excepting negligible Triton, free 
74 From the unavoidable shadow of himself 
75 That lay elsewhere around him. Severance 
76 Was clear. The last distortion of romance 
77 Forsook the insatiable egotist. The sea 
78 Severs not only lands but also selves. 
79 Here was no help before reality. 
80 Crispin beheld and Crispin was made new. 
81 The imagination, here, could not evade, 
82 In poems of plums, the strict austerity 
83 Of one vast, subjugating, final tone. 
84 The drenching of stale lives no more fell down. 
85 What was this gaudy, gusty panoply? 
86 Out of what swift destruction did it spring? 
87 It was caparison of mind and cloud 
88 And something given to make whole among 
89 The ruses that were shattered by the large. 

II 

Concerning the Thunderstorms of Yucatan 

90 In Yucatan, the Maya sonneteers 
91 Of the Caribbean amphitheatre, 
92 In spite of hawk and falcon, green toucan 
93 And jay, still to the night-bird made their plea, 
94 As if raspberry tanagers in palms, 
95 High up in orange air, were barbarous. 
96 But Crispin was too destitute to find 
97 In any commonplace the sought-for aid. 
98 He was a man made vivid by the sea, 
99 A man come out of luminous traversing, 
100 Much trumpeted, made desperately clear, 
101 Fresh from discoveries of tidal skies, 
102 To whom oracular rockings gave no rest. 
103 Into a savage color he went on. 

104 How greatly had he grown in his demesne, 
105 This auditor of insects! He that saw 
106 The stride of vanishing autumn in a park 
107 By way of decorous melancholy; he 
108 That wrote his couplet yearly to the spring, 
109 As dissertation of profound delight, 
110 Stopping, on voyage, in a land of snakes, 
111 Found his vicissitudes had much enlarged 
112 His apprehension, made him intricate 
113 In moody rucks, and difficult and strange 
114 In all desires, his destitution's mark. 
115 He was in this as other freemen are, 
116 Sonorous nutshells rattling inwardly. 
117 His violence was for aggrandizement 
118 And not for stupor, such as music makes 
119 For sleepers halfway waking. He perceived 
120 That coolness for his heat came suddenly, 
121 And only, in the fables that he scrawled 
122 With his own quill, in its indigenous dew, 
123 Of an aesthetic tough, diverse, untamed, 
124 Incredible to prudes, the mint of dirt, 
125 Green barbarism turning paradigm. 
126 Crispin foresaw a curious promenade 
127 Or, nobler, sensed an elemental fate, 
128 And elemental potencies and pangs, 
129 And beautiful barenesses as yet unseen, 
130 Making the most of savagery of palms, 
131 Of moonlight on the thick, cadaverous bloom 
132 That yuccas breed, and of the panther's tread. 
133 The fabulous and its intrinsic verse 
134 Came like two spirits parlaying, adorned 
135 In radiance from the Atlantic coign, 
136 For Crispin and his quill to catechize. 
137 But they came parlaying of such an earth, 
138 So thick with sides and jagged lops of green, 
139 So intertwined with serpent-kin encoiled 
140 Among the purple tufts, the scarlet crowns, 
141 Scenting the jungle in their refuges, 
142 So streaked with yellow, blue and green and red 
143 In beak and bud and fruity gobbet-skins, 
144 That earth was like a jostling festival 
145 Of seeds grown fat, too juicily opulent, 
146 Expanding in the gold's maternal warmth. 
147 So much for that. The affectionate emigrant found 
148 A new reality in parrot-squawks. 
149 Yet let that trifle pass. Now, as this odd 
150 Discoverer walked through the harbor streets 
151 Inspecting the cabildo, the fa?ade 
152 Of the cathedral, making notes, he heard 
153 A rumbling, west of Mexico, it seemed, 
154 Approaching like a gasconade of drums. 
155 The white cabildo darkened, the fa?ade, 
156 As sullen as the sky, was swallowed up 
157 In swift, successive shadows, dolefully. 
158 The rumbling broadened as it fell. The wind, 
159 Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry, 
160 Came bluntly thundering, more terrible 
161 Than the revenge of music on bassoons. 
162 Gesticulating lightning, mystical, 
163 Made pallid flitter. Crispin, here, took flight. 
164 An annotator has his scruples, too. 
165 He knelt in the cathedral with the rest, 
166 This connoisseur of elemental fate, 
167 Aware of exquisite thought. The storm was one 
168 Of many proclamations of the kind, 
169 Proclaiming something harsher than he learned 
170 From hearing signboards whimper in cold nights 
171 Or seeing the midsummer artifice 
172 Of heat upon his pane. This was the span 
173 Of force, the quintessential fact, the note 
174 Of Vulcan, that a valet seeks to own, 
175 The thing that makes him envious in phrase. 

176 And while the torrent on the roof still droned 
177 He felt the Andean breath. His mind was free 
178 And more than free, elate, intent, profound 
179 And studious of a self possessing him, 
180 That was not in him in the crusty town 
181 From which he sailed. Beyond him, westward, lay 
182 The mountainous ridges, purple balustrades, 
183 In which the thunder, lapsing in its clap, 
184 Let down gigantic quavers of its voice, 
185 For Crispin to vociferate again. 

III 

Approaching Carolina 

186 The book of moonlight is not written yet 
187 Nor half begun, but, when it is, leave room 
188 For Crispin, fagot in the lunar fire, 
189 Who, in the hubbub of his pilgrimage 
190 Through sweating changes, never could forget 
191 That wakefulness or meditating sleep, 
192 In which the sulky strophes willingly 
193 Bore up, in time, the somnolent, deep songs. 
194 Leave room, therefore, in that unwritten book 
195 For the legendary moonlight that once burned 
196 In Crispin's mind above a continent. 
197 America was always north to him, 
198 A northern west or western north, but north, 
199 And thereby polar, polar-purple, chilled 
200 And lank, rising and slumping from a sea 
201 Of hardy foam, receding flatly, spread 
202 In endless ledges, glittering, submerged 
203 And cold in a boreal mistiness of the moon. 
204 The spring came there in clinking pannicles 
205 Of half-dissolving frost, the summer came, 
206 If ever, whisked and wet, not ripening, 
207 Before the winter's vacancy returned. 
208 The myrtle, if the myrtle ever bloomed, 
209 Was like a glacial pink upon the air. 
210 The green palmettoes in crepuscular ice 
211 Clipped frigidly blue-black meridians, 
212 Morose chiaroscuro, gauntly drawn. 

213 How many poems he denied himself 
214 In his observant progress, lesser things 
215 Than the relentless contact he desired; 
216 How many sea-masks he ignored; what sounds 
217 He shut out from his tempering ear; what thoughts, 
218 Like jades affecting the sequestered bride; 
219 And what descants, he sent to banishment! 
220 Perhaps the Arctic moonlight really gave 
221 The liaison, the blissful liaison, 
222 Between himself and his environment, 
223 Which was, and is, chief motive, first delight, 
224 For him, and not for him alone. It seemed 
225 Elusive, faint, more mist than moon, perverse, 
226 Wrong as a divagation to Peking, 
227 To him that postulated as his theme 
228 The vulgar, as his theme and hymn and flight, 
229 A passionately niggling nightingale. 
230 Moonlight was an evasion, or, if not, 
231 A minor meeting, facile, delicate. 

232 Thus he conceived his voyaging to be 
233 An up and down between two elements, 
234 A fluctuating between sun and moon, 
235 A sally into gold and crimson forms, 
236 As on this voyage, out of goblinry, 
237 And then retirement like a turning back 
238 And sinking down to the indulgences 
239 That in the moonlight have their habitude. 
240 But let these backward lapses, if they would, 
241 Grind their seductions on him, Crispin knew 
242 It was a flourishing tropic he required 
243 For his refreshment, an abundant zone, 
244 Prickly and obdurate, dense, harmonious 
245 Yet with a harmony not rarefied 
246 Nor fined for the inhibited instruments 
247 Of over-civil stops. And thus he tossed 
248 Between a Carolina of old time, 
249 A little juvenile, an ancient whim, 
250 And the visible, circumspect presentment drawn 
251 From what he saw across his vessel's prow. 

252 He came. The poetic hero without palms 
253 Or jugglery, without regalia. 
254 And as he came he saw that it was spring, 
255 A time abhorrent to the nihilist 
256 Or searcher for the fecund minimum. 
257 The moonlight fiction disappeared. The spring, 
258 Although contending featly in its veils, 
259 Irised in dew and early fragrancies, 
260 Was gemmy marionette to him that sought 
261 A sinewy nakedness. A river bore 
262 The vessel inward. Tilting up his nose, 
263 He inhaled the rancid rosin, burly smells 
264 Of dampened lumber, emanations blown 
265 From warehouse doors, the gustiness of ropes, 
266 Decays of sacks, and all the arrant stinks 
267 That helped him round his rude aesthetic out. 
268 He savored rankness like a sensualist. 
269 He marked the marshy ground around the dock, 
270 The crawling railroad spur, the rotten fence, 
271 Curriculum for the marvellous sophomore. 
272 It purified. It made him see how much 
273 Of what he saw he never saw at all. 
274 He gripped more closely the essential prose 
275 As being, in a world so falsified, 
276 The one integrity for him, the one 
277 Discovery still possible to make, 
278 To which all poems were incident, unless 
279 That prose should wear a poem's guise at last. 

IV 

The Idea of a Colony 

280 Nota: his soil is man's intelligence. 
281 That's better. That's worth crossing seas to find. 
282 Crispin in one laconic phrase laid bare 
283 His cloudy drift and planned a colony. 
284 Exit the mental moonlight, exit lex, 
285 Rex and principium, exit the whole 
286 Shebang. Exeunt omnes. Here was prose 
287 More exquisite than any tumbling verse: 
288 A still new continent in which to dwell. 
289 What was the purpose of his pilgrimage, 
290 Whatever shape it took in Crispin's mind, 
291 If not, when all is said, to drive away 
292 The shadow of his fellows from the skies, 
293 And, from their stale intelligence released, 
294 To make a new intelligence prevail? 
295 Hence the reverberations in the words 
296 Of his first central hymns, the celebrants 
297 Of rankest trivia, tests of the strength 
298 Of his aesthetic, his philosophy, 
299 The more invidious, the more desired. 
300 The florist asking aid from cabbages, 
301 The rich man going bare, the paladin 
302 Afraid, the blind man as astronomer, 
303 The appointed power unwielded from disdain. 
304 His western voyage ended and began. 
305 The torment of fastidious thought grew slack, 
306 Another, still more bellicose, came on. 
307 He, therefore, wrote his prolegomena, 
308 And, being full of the caprice, inscribed 
309 Commingled souvenirs and prophecies. 
310 He made a singular collation. Thus: 
311 The natives of the rain are rainy men. 
312 Although they paint effulgent, azure lakes, 
313 And April hillsides wooded white and pink, 
314 Their azure has a cloudy edge, their white 
315 And pink, the water bright that dogwood bears. 
316 And in their music showering sounds intone. 
317 On what strange froth does the gross Indian dote, 
318 What Eden sapling gum, what honeyed gore, 
319 What pulpy dram distilled of innocence, 
320 That streaking gold should speak in him 
321 Or bask within his images and words? 
322 If these rude instances impeach themselves 
323 By force of rudeness, let the principle 
324 Be plain. For application Crispin strove, 
325 Abhorring Turk as Esquimau, the lute 
326 As the marimba, the magnolia as rose. 

327 Upon these premises propounding, he 
328 Projected a colony that should extend 
329 To the dusk of a whistling south below the south. 
330 A comprehensive island hemisphere. 
331 The man in Georgia waking among pines 
332 Should be pine-spokesman. The responsive man, 
333 Planting his pristine cores in Florida, 
334 Should prick thereof, not on the psaltery, 
335 But on the banjo's categorical gut, 
336 Tuck tuck, while the flamingos flapped his bays. 
337 Sepulchral se?ors, bibbing pale mescal, 
338 Oblivious to the Aztec almanacs, 
339 Should make the intricate Sierra scan. 
340 And dark Brazilians in their caf¨¦s, 
341 Musing immaculate, pampean dits, 
342 Should scrawl a vigilant anthology, 
343 To be their latest, lucent paramour. 
344 These are the broadest instances. Crispin, 
345 Progenitor of such extensive scope, 
346 Was not indifferent to smart detail. 
347 The melon should have apposite ritual, 
348 Performed in verd apparel, and the peach, 
349 When its black branches came to bud, belle day, 
350 Should have an incantation. And again, 
351 When piled on salvers its aroma steeped 
352 The summer, it should have a sacrament 
353 And celebration. Shrewd novitiates 
354 Should be the clerks of our experience. 

355 These bland excursions into time to come, 
356 Related in romance to backward flights, 
357 However prodigal, however proud, 
358 Contained in their afflatus the reproach 
359 That first drove Crispin to his wandering. 
360 He could not be content with counterfeit, 
361 With masquerade of thought, with hapless words 
362 That must belie the racking masquerade, 
363 With fictive flourishes that preordained 
364 His passion's permit, hang of coat, degree 
365 Of buttons, measure of his salt. Such trash 
366 Might help the blind, not him, serenely sly. 
367 It irked beyond his patience. Hence it was, 
368 Preferring text to gloss, he humbly served 
369 Grotesque apprenticeship to chance event, 
370 A clown, perhaps, but an aspiring clown. 
371 There is a monotonous babbling in our dreams 
372 That makes them our dependent heirs, the heirs 
373 Of dreamers buried in our sleep, and not 
374 The oncoming fantasies of better birth. 
375 The apprentice knew these dreamers. If he dreamed 
376 Their dreams, he did it in a gingerly way. 
377 All dreams are vexing. Let them be expunged. 
378 But let the rabbit run, the cock declaim. 

379 Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets, 
380 With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener? 
381 No, no: veracious page on page, exact. 

V 

A Nice Shady Home 

382 Crispin as hermit, pure and capable, 
383 Dwelt in the land. Perhaps if discontent 
384 Had kept him still the pricking realist, 
385 Choosing his element from droll confect 
386 Of was and is and shall or ought to be, 
387 Beyond Bordeaux, beyond Havana, far 
388 Beyond carked Yucatan, he might have come 
389 To colonize his polar planterdom 
390 And jig his chits upon a cloudy knee. 
391 But his emprize to that idea soon sped. 
392 Crispin dwelt in the land and dwelling there 
393 Slid from his continent by slow recess 
394 To things within his actual eye, alert 
395 To the difficulty of rebellious thought 
396 When the sky is blue. The blue infected will. 
397 It may be that the yarrow in his fields 
398 Sealed pensive purple under its concern. 
399 But day by day, now this thing and now that 
400 Confined him, while it cosseted, condoned, 
401 Little by little, as if the suzerain soil 
402 Abashed him by carouse to humble yet 
403 Attach. It seemed haphazard denouement. 
404 He first, as realist, admitted that 
405 Whoever hunts a matinal continent 
406 May, after all, stop short before a plum 
407 And be content and still be realist. 
408 The words of things entangle and confuse. 
409 The plum survives its poems. It may hang 
410 In the sunshine placidly, colored by ground 
411 Obliquities of those who pass beneath, 
412 Harlequined and mazily dewed and mauved 
413 In bloom. Yet it survives in its own form, 
414 Beyond these changes, good, fat, guzzly fruit. 
415 So Crispin hasped on the surviving form, 
416 For him, of shall or ought to be in is. 

417 Was he to bray this in profoundest brass 
418 Arointing his dreams with fugal requiems? 
419 Was he to company vastest things defunct 
420 With a blubber of tom-toms harrowing the sky? 
421 Scrawl a tragedian's testament? Prolong 
422 His active force in an inactive dirge, 
423 Which, let the tall musicians call and call, 
424 Should merely call him dead? Pronounce amen 
425 Through choirs infolded to the outmost clouds? 
426 Because he built a cabin who once planned 
427 Loquacious columns by the ructive sea? 
428 Because he turned to salad-beds again? 
429 Jovial Crispin, in calamitous crape? 
430 Should he lay by the personal and make 
431 Of his own fate an instance of all fate? 
432 What is one man among so many men? 
433 What are so many men in such a world? 
434 Can one man think one thing and think it long? 
435 Can one man be one thing and be it long? 
436 The very man despising honest quilts 
437 Lies quilted to his poll in his despite. 
438 For realists, what is is what should be. 
439 And so it came, his cabin shuffled up, 
440 His trees were planted, his duenna brought 
441 Her prismy blonde and clapped her in his hands, 
442 The curtains flittered and the door was closed. 
443 Crispin, magister of a single room, 
444 Latched up the night. So deep a sound fell down 
445 It was as if the solitude concealed 
446 And covered him and his congenial sleep. 
447 So deep a sound fell down it grew to be 
448 A long soothsaying silence down and down. 
449 The crickets beat their tambours in the wind, 
450 Marching a motionless march, custodians. 

451 In the presto of the morning, Crispin trod, 
452 Each day, still curious, but in a round 
453 Less prickly and much more condign than that 
454 He once thought necessary. Like Candide, 
455 Yeoman and grub, but with a fig in sight, 
456 And cream for the fig and silver for the cream, 
457 A blonde to tip the silver and to taste 
458 The rapey gouts. Good star, how that to be 
459 Annealed them in their cabin ribaldries! 
460 Yet the quotidian saps philosophers 
461 And men like Crispin like them in intent, 
462 If not in will, to track the knaves of thought. 
463 But the quotidian composed as his, 
464 Of breakfast ribands, fruits laid in their leaves, 
465 The tomtit and the cassia and the rose, 
466 Although the rose was not the noble thorn 
467 Of crinoline spread, but of a pining sweet, 
468 Composed of evenings like cracked shutters flung 
469 Upon the rumpling bottomness, and nights 
470 In which those frail custodians watched, 
471 Indifferent to the tepid summer cold, 
472 While he poured out upon the lips of her 
473 That lay beside him, the quotidian 
474 Like this, saps like the sun, true fortuner. 
475 For all it takes it gives a humped return 
476 Exchequering from piebald fiscs unkeyed. 

VI 

And Daughters with Curls 

477 Portentous enunciation, syllable 
478 To blessed syllable affined, and sound 
479 Bubbling felicity in cantilene, 
480 Prolific and tormenting tenderness 
481 Of music, as it comes to unison, 
482 Forgather and bell boldly Crispin's last 
483 Deduction. Thrum, with a proud douceur 
484 His grand pronunciamento and devise. 

485 The chits came for his jigging, bluet-eyed, 
486 Hands without touch yet touching poignantly, 
487 Leaving no room upon his cloudy knee, 
488 Prophetic joint, for its diviner young. 
489 The return to social nature, once begun, 
490 Anabasis or slump, ascent or chute, 
491 Involved him in midwifery so dense 
492 His cabin counted as phylactery, 
493 Then place of vexing palankeens, then haunt 
494 Of children nibbling at the sugared void, 
495 Infants yet eminently old, then dome 
496 And halidom for the unbraided femes, 
497 Green crammers of the green fruits of the world, 
498 Bidders and biders for its ecstasies, 
499 True daughters both of Crispin and his clay. 
500 All this with many mulctings of the man, 
501 Effective colonizer sharply stopped 
502 In the door-yard by his own capacious bloom. 
503 But that this bloom grown riper, showing nibs 
504 Of its eventual roundness, puerile tints 
505 Of spiced and weathery rouges, should complex 
506 The stopper to indulgent fatalist 
507 Was unforeseen. First Crispin smiled upon 
508 His goldenest demoiselle, inhabitant, 
509 She seemed, of a country of the capuchins, 
510 So delicately blushed, so humbly eyed, 
511 Attentive to a coronal of things 
512 Secret and singular. Second, upon 
513 A second similar counterpart, a maid 
514 Most sisterly to the first, not yet awake 
515 Excepting to the motherly footstep, but 
516 Marvelling sometimes at the shaken sleep. 
517 Then third, a thing still flaxen in the light, 
518 A creeper under jaunty leaves. And fourth, 
519 Mere blusteriness that gewgaws jollified, 
520 All din and gobble, blasphemously pink. 
521 A few years more and the vermeil capuchin 
522 Gave to the cabin, lordlier than it was, 
523 The dulcet omen fit for such a house. 
524 The second sister dallying was shy 
525 To fetch the one full-pinioned one himself 
526 Out of her botches, hot embosomer. 
527 The third one gaping at the orioles 
528 Lettered herself demurely as became 
529 A pearly poetess, peaked for rhapsody. 
530 The fourth, pent now, a digit curious. 
531 Four daughters in a world too intricate 
532 In the beginning, four blithe instruments 
533 Of differing struts, four voices several 
534 In couch, four more person?, intimate 
535 As buffo, yet divers, four mirrors blue 
536 That should be silver, four accustomed seeds 
537 Hinting incredible hues, four self-same lights 
538 That spread chromatics in hilarious dark, 
539 Four questioners and four sure answerers. 

540 Crispin concocted doctrine from the rout. 
541 The world, a turnip once so readily plucked, 
542 Sacked up and carried overseas, daubed out 
543 Of its ancient purple, pruned to the fertile main, 
544 And sown again by the stiffest realist, 
545 Came reproduced in purple, family font, 
546 The same insoluble lump. The fatalist 
547 Stepped in and dropped the chuckling down his craw, 
548 Without grace or grumble. Score this anecdote 
549 Invented for its pith, not doctrinal 
550 In form though in design, as Crispin willed, 
551 Disguised pronunciamento, summary, 
552 Autumn's compendium, strident in itself 
553 But muted, mused, and perfectly revolved 
554 In those portentous accents, syllables, 
555 And sounds of music coming to accord 
556 Upon his law, like their inherent sphere, 
557 Seraphic proclamations of the pure 
558 Delivered with a deluging onwardness. 
559 Or if the music sticks, if the anecdote 
560 Is false, if Crispin is a profitless 
561 Philosopher, beginning with green brag, 
562 Concluding fadedly, if as a man 
563 Prone to distemper he abates in taste, 
564 Fickle and fumbling, variable, obscure, 
565 Glozing his life with after-shining flicks, 
566 Illuminating, from a fancy gorged 
567 By apparition, plain and common things, 
568 Sequestering the fluster from the year, 
569 Making gulped potions from obstreperous drops, 
570 And so distorting, proving what he proves 
571 Is nothing, what can all this matter since 
572 The relation comes, benignly, to its end? 

573 So may the relation of each man be clipped.


SONG OF AN OLD GENERAL

When he was a youth of fifteen or twenty, 
He chased a wild horse, he caught him and rode him, 
He shot the white-browed mountain tiger, 
He defied the yellow-bristled Horseman of Ye. 
Fighting single- handed for a thousand miles, 
With his naked dagger he could hold a multitude. 
...Granted that the troops of China were as swift as heaven's thunder 
And that Tartar soldiers perished in pitfalls fanged with iron, 
General Wei Qing's victory was only a thing of chance. 
And General Li Guang's thwarted effort was his fate, not his fault. 
Since this man's retirement he is looking old and worn: 
Experience of the world has hastened his white hairs. 
Though once his quick dart never missed the right eye of a bird, 
Now knotted veins and tendons make his left arm like an osier. 
He is sometimes at the road-side selling melons from his garden, 
He is sometimes planting willows round his hermitage. 
His lonely lane is shut away by a dense grove, 
His vacant window looks upon the far cold mountains 
But, if he prayed, the waters would come gushing for his men 
And never would he wanton his cause away with wine. 
...War-clouds are spreading, under the Helan Range; 
Back and forth, day and night, go feathered messages; 
In the three River Provinces, the governors call young men -- 
And five imperial edicts have summoned the old general. 
So he dusts his iron coat and shines it like snow- 
Waves his dagger from its jade hilt in a dance of starry steel. 
He is ready with his strong northern bow to smite the Tartar chieftain -- 
That never a foreign war-dress may affront the Emperor. 
...There once was an aged Prefect, forgotten and far away, 
Who still could manage triumph with a single stroke. 


Upon The Hill And Grove At Bill-borow

 To the Lord Fairfax.

See how the arched Earth does here
Rise in a perfect Hemisphere!
The stiffest Compass could not strike
A line more circular and like;
Nor softest Pensel draw a Brow.
So equal as this Hill does bow.
It seems as for a Model laid,
And that the World by it was made.

Here learn ye Mountains more unjust,
Which to abrupter greatness thrust,
That do with your hook-shoulder'd height
The Earth deform and Heaven frght.
For whose excrescence ill design'd,
Nature must a new Center find,
Learn here those humble steps to tread,
Which to securer Glory lead.

See what a soft access and wide
Lyes open to its grassy side;
Nor with the rugged path deterrs
The feet of breathless Travellers.
See then how courteous it ascends,
And all the way ir rises bends;
Nor for it self the height does gain,
But only strives to raise the Plain.

Yet thus it all the field commands,
And in unenvy'd Greatness stands,
Discerning furthe then the Cliff
Of Heaven-daring Teneriff.
How glad the weary Seamen hast
When they salute it from the Mast!
By Night the Northern Star their way
Directs, and this no less by Day.

Upon its crest this Mountain grave
A Plum of aged Trees does wave.
No hostile hand durst ere invade
With impious Steel the sacred Shade.
For something alwaies did appear
Of the Great Masters terrour there:
And Men could hear his Armour still
Ratling through all the Grove and Hill.

Fear of the Master, and respect
Of the great Nymph did it protect;
Vera the Nymph that him inspir'd,
To whom he often here retir'd,
And on these Okes ingrav'd her Name;
Such Wounds alone these Woods became:
But ere he well the Barks could part
'Twas writ already in their Heart.

For they ('tis credible) have sense,
As we, of Love and Reverence,
And underneath the Courser Rind
The Genius of the house do bind.
Hence they successes seem to know,
And in their Lord's advancement grow;
But in no Memory were seen
As under this so streight and green.

Yet now no further strive to shoot,
Contented if they fix their Root.
Nor to the winds uncertain gust,
Their prudent Heads too far intrust.
Onely sometimes a flutt'ring Breez
Discourses with the breathing Trees;
Which in their modest Whispers name
Those Acts that swell'd the Cheek of Fame.

Much other Groves, say they, then these
And other Hills him once did please.
Through Groves of Pikes he thunder'd then,
And Mountains rais'd of dying Men.
For all the Civick Garlands due
To him our Branches are but few.
Nor are our Trunks enow to bear
The Trophees of one fertile Year.

'Tis true, the Trees nor ever spoke
More certain Oracles in Oak.
But Peace (if you his favour prize)
That Courage its own Praises flies.
Therefore to your obscurer Seats
From his own Brightness he retreats:
Nor he the Hills without the Groves,
Nor Height but with Retirement loves.


Ode to Beauty

 EXULTING BEAUTY,­phantom of an hour, 
Whose magic spells enchain the heart, 
Ah ! what avails thy fascinating pow'r, 
Thy thrilling smile, thy witching art ? 
Thy lip, where balmy nectar glows; 
Thy cheek, where round the damask rose 
A thousand nameless Graces move, 
Thy mildly speaking azure eyes, 
Thy golden hair, where cunning Love 
In many a mazy ringlet lies? 
Soon as thy radiant form is seen, 
Thy native blush, thy timid mien, 
Thy hour is past ! thy charms are vain! 
ILL-NATURE haunts thee with her sallow train, 
Mean JEALOUSY deceives thy list'ning ear, 
And SLANDER stains thy cheek with many a bitter tear. 

In calm retirement form'd to dwell, 
NATURE, thy handmaid fair and kind, 
For thee, a beauteous garland twin'd; 
The vale-nurs'd Lily's downcast bell 
Thy modest mien display'd, 
The snow-drop, April's meekest child, 
With myrtle blossoms undefil'd, 
Thy mild and spotless mind pourtray'd; 
Dear blushing maid, of cottage birth, 
'Twas thine, o'er dewy meads to stray, 
While sparkling health, and frolic mirth 
Led on thy laughing Day. 

Lur'd by the babbling tongue of FAME, 
Too soon, insidious FLATT'RY came; 
Flush'd VANITY her footsteps led, 
To charm thee from thy blest repose, 
While Fashion twin'd about thy head 
A wreath of wounding woes; 
See Dissipation smoothly glide, 
Cold Apathy, and puny Pride, 
Capricious Fortune, dull, and blind, 
O'er splendid Folly throws her veil, 
While Envy's meagre tribe assail 
Thy gentle form, and spotless mind. 

Their spells prevail! no more those eyes 
Shoot undulating fires; 
On thy wan cheek, the young rose dies, 
Thy lip's deep tint expires; 
Dark Melancholy chills thy mind; 
Thy silent tear reveals thy woe; 
TIME strews with thorns thy mazy way, 
Where'er thy giddy footsteps stray, 
Thy thoughtless heart is doom'd to find 
An unrelenting foe. 

'Tis thus, the infant Forest flow'r 
Bespangled o'er with glitt'ring dew, 
At breezy morn's refreshing hour, 
Glows with pure tints of varying hue, 
Beneath an aged oak's wide spreading shade, 
Where no rude winds, or beating storms invade. 
Transplanted from its lonely bed, 
No more it scatters perfumes round, 
No more it rears its gentle head, 
Or brightly paints the mossy ground; 
For ah! the beauteous bud, too soon, 
Scorch'd by the burning eye of day; 
Shrinks from the sultry glare of noon, 
Droops its enamell'd brow, and blushing, dies away.


The Adieu to Love

 LOVE, I renounce thy tyrant sway,
I mock thy fascinating art,
MINE, be the calm unruffled day,
That brings no torment to the heart; 
The tranquil mind, the noiseless scene, 
Where FANCY, with enchanting mien, 
Shall in her right-hand lead along 
The graceful patroness of Song;
Where HARMONY shall softly fling 
Her light tones o'er the dulcet string; 
And with her magic LYRE compose 
Each pang that throbs, each pulse that glows; 
Till her resistless strains dispense, 
The balm of blest INDIFFERENCE. 

LOVE, I defy thy vaunted pow'r!
In still Retirement's sober bow'r
I'll rest secure;­no fev'rish pain
Shall dart its hot-shafts thro' my brain, 
No start'ling dreams invade my mind 
No spells my stagnate pulses bind; 
No jealous agonies impart 
Their madd'ning poisons to my heart 
But sweetly lull'd to placid rest, 
The sensate tenant of my breast 
Shall one unshaken course pursue, 
Such as thy vot'ries never knew.­ 

SWEET SOLITUDE ! pure Nature's child, 
Fair pensive daughter of the wild; 
Nymph of the Forest; thee I press 
My weary sick'ning soul to bless; 
To give my heart the dear repose, 
That smiles unmov'd at transient woes; 
That shelter'd from Life's trivial cares, 
Each calm delicious comfort shares; 
While conscious rectitude of mind, 
Blends with each thought a bliss refin'd, 
And scorning fear's soul-chilling pow'r, 
Dares court REFLECTION'S dang'rous hour, 
To scrutinize with cautious art, 
Each hidden channel of the heart.­ 

Ah, gentle maiden, let me stray,
Where Innocence for ever gay,
Shall lead me to her loveliest bow'rs
And crown my brow with thornless flow'rs;
And strew the weedy paths of time
With Resignation's balm sublime;
While Rosy SPRING, shall smiling haste,
On light steps o'er the dewy waste, 
Eager her brightest gems to shed 
Around my verdant perfum'd bed; 
And in her train the glowing hours 
Shall bathe their wings in scented show'rs; 
And shake the fost'ring drops to earth, 
To nurse meek blossoms into birth; 
And when autumnal zephyrs fly 
Sportive, beneath the sapphire sky, 
Or in the stream their pinions lave, 
Or teach the golden sheaves to wave; 
I'll watch the ruby eye of day 
In awful lustre glide away, 
And closing sink to transient rest, 
On panting Ocean's pearly breast. 

O SOLITUDE ! how blest the lot 
Of her who shares thy silent cot! 
Who with celestial peace, pursues 
The pensive wand'rings of the MUSE; 
To stray unseen where'er she leads, 
O'er grassy hills and sunny meads, 
Or at the still of Night's cold noon 
To gaze upon the chilly Moon, 
While PHILOMELA'S mournful Song 
Meanders fairy haunts among, 
To tell the hopeless LOVER'S ear, 
That SYMPATHY'S FOND BIRD is near; 
Whose note shall soothe his aching heart, 
Whose grief shall emulate his smart; 
And by its sadly proud excess, 
Make every pang he suffers less; 
For oft in passion's direst woes, 
The veriest wretch can yield repose; 
While from the voice of kindred grief, 
We gain a sad, but kind relief. 

AH LOVE! thou barb'rous fickle boy,
Thou semblance of delusive joy,
Too long my heart has been thy slave:
For thou hast seen me wildly rave,
And with impetuous frenzy haste,
Heedless across the thorny waste,
And drink the cold dews, ere they fell
On my bare bosom's burning swell;
When bleak the wintry whirlwinds blew;
And swift the sultry meteors flew;
Yes, thou hast seen me, tyrant pow'r,
At freezing midnight's witching hour,
Start from my couch, subdu'd, oppres'd,
While jealous anguish wrung my breast,
While round my eager senses flew,
Dark brow'd Suspicion's wily crew,
Taunting my soul with restless ire,
That set my pulsate brain on fire.
What didst thou then ? Inhuman Boy!
Didst thou not paint each well-feign'd joy,
Each artful smile, each study'd grace
That deck'd some sordid rival's face;
Didst thou not feed my madd'ning sense
With Love's delicious eloquence,
While on my ear thy accents pour'd
The voice of him my soul ador'd, 
His rapt'rous tones­his strains divine,
And all those vows that once were mine.
But mild Reflection's piercing ray,
Soon chas'd the fatal dream away,
And with it all my rending woes,
While in its place majestic rose
The Angel TRUTH !­her stedfast mien
Bespoke the conscious breast serene;
Her eye more radiant than the day
Beam'd with persuasion's temper'd ray;
Sweet was her voice, and while she sung
Myriads of Seraphs hover'd round,
Eager to iterate the sound, 
That on her heav'n-taught accents hung. 
Wond'ring I gaz'd! my throbbing breast, 
Celestial energies confest; 
Transports, before unfelt, unknown, 
Throng'd round my bosom's tremb'ling throne, 
While ev'ry nerve with rapture strange, 
Seem'd to partake the blissful change. 

Now with unmov'd and dauntless Eye,
I mark thy winged arrows fly;
No more thy baneful spells shall bind
The purer passions of my mind;
No more, false Love, shall jealous fears
Inflame my check with scalding tears;
Or shake my vanquish'd sense, or rend
My aching heart with poignant throes,
Or with tumultuous fevers blend,
Self-wounding, visionary woes.­ 

No more I'll waste the midnight hour 
In expectation's silent bow'r; 
And musing o'er thy transcripts dear, 
Efface their sorrows with a tear. 
No more with timid fondness wait 
Till morn unfolds her glitt'ring gate, 
When thy lov'd song's seraphic sound, 
Wou'd on my quiv'ring nerves rebound 
With proud delight;­no more thy blush 
Shall o'er my cheek unbidden rush, 
And scorning ev'ry strong controul, 
Unveil the tumults of my soul. 
No more when in retirement blest, 
Shalt thou obtrude upon my rest; 
And tho' encircled with delight, 
Absorb my sense, obscure my sight, 
Give to my eye the vacant glance, 
The mien that marks the mental trance; 
The fault'ring tone­the sudden start, 
The trembling hand, the bursting heart; 
The devious step, that strolls along 
Unmindful of the gazing throng; 
The feign'd indiff'rence prone to chide; 
That blazons­what it seeks to hide. 

Nor do I dread thy vengeful wiles, 
Thy soothing voice, thy winning smiles, 
Thy trick'ling tear, thy mien forlorn, 
Thy pray'r, thy sighs, thy oaths I scorn; 
No more on ME thy arrows show'r, 
Capricious Love­! I BRAVE THY POW'R.


LEEDS 2002

 What ghosts haunt

These streets of perpetual night?

Riverbanks fractured with splinters of glass condominiums

For nouveam riche merchant bankers

Black-tied bouncers man clubland glitz casinos

Novotel, Valley Park Motel, the Hilton:

Hot tubs, saunas, swim spas, en suite 

Satellite TV, conference rooms, disco dinners.

I knew Len, the tubby taxi man

With his retirement dreams of visiting

The world’s great galleries:

‘Titian, Leonardo, Goya,

I’ve lived all my life in the house I was born in

All my life I’ve saved for this trip’ 

The same house he was done to death in

Tortured by three fourteen year olds,

Made headlines for one night, another

Murder to add to Beeston’s five this year. 

Yorkshire Forward advertises nation-wide

The north’s attractions for business expansion

Nothing fits together any more 

Addicts in doorways trying to score

The new Porsches and the new poor

Air-conditioned thirty-foot limos, fibre-optic lit,

Uniformed chauffeurs fully trained in close protection

And anti-hijack techniques, simply the best –

See for yourself in mirrored ceilings.

See for yourself the screaming youth

Soaring psychotic one Sunday afternoon

Staggering round the new coach station

"I’ll beat him to death the day I see him next"





Fifty yards away Millgarth police station’s 

Fifty foot banner proclaims ‘Let’s fight crime together’

I am no poet for this age

I cannot drain nostalgia from my blood


INSPIRATION FROM A VISITATION OF MY MUSE

 Memories bursting like tears or waves

On some lonely Adriatic shore

Beating again and again

Threshings of green sea foam

Flecked like the marble Leonardo

Chipped for his ‘Moses’.

And my tears came as suddenly

In that dream, criss-crossed

With memory and desire.

Grandad Nicky had worked

Down the pits for a pittance

To bring up his six children

But nothing left over for more

Than a few nuts and an orange

For six Christmas stockings

So hopefully hung, weighted by pennies,

Stretched across the black mantle.

So Lawrence-like and yet not, grandad

A strict Methodist who read only a vast Bible

Hunched in his fireside chair insisting

On chapel three times on Sundays.

Only in retirement did joy and wisdom

Enter him, abandoning chapel he took

To the Friends or Quakers as they called them then

And somehow at seventy the inner light

Consumed him.

Gruff but kind was my impression:

He would take me for walks

Along abandoned railways to the shutdown

Pipeworks where my three uncles

Worked their early manhood through.

It would have delighted Auden and perhaps

That was the bridge between us

Though we were of different generations

And by the time I began to write he had died.

All are gone except some few who may live still

But in their dotage.After my mother’s funeral

None wanted contact: I had been judged in my absence

And found wanting.

Durham was not my county,

Hardly my country, memories from childhood

Of Hunwick Village with its single cobbled street

Of squat stone cottages and paved yards

With earth closets and stacks of sawn logs

Perfuming the air with their sap

In a way only French poets could say

And that is why we have no word but clich?

‘Reflect’ or ‘make come alive’ or other earthbound

Anglicanisms; yet it is there in Valery Larbaud

‘J’ai senti pour la premiere fois toute la douceur de vivre’-

I experienced for the first time all the joy of living.

I quote of their plenitude to mock the absurdity

Of English poets who have no time for Francophiles

Better the ‘O altitudo’ of earlier generations –

Wallace Stevens’ "French and English

Are one language indivisible."

That scent of sawdust, the milkcart the pony pulled

Each morning over the cobbles, the earthenware jug

I carried to be filled, ladle by shining ladle,

From the great churns and there were birds singing

In the still blue over the fields beyond the village

But because I was city-bred I could not name them.

I write to please myself: ‘Only other poets read poems’


On the Way

 NOTE.—The following imaginary dialogue between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, which is not based upon any specific incident in American history, may be supposed to have occurred a few months previous to Hamilton’s retirement from Washington’s Cabinet in 1795 and a few years before the political ingenuities of Burr—who has been characterized, without much exaggeration, as the inventor of American politics—began to be conspicuously formidable to the Federalists. These activities on the part of Burr resulted, as the reader will remember, in the Burr-Jefferson tie for the Presidency in 1800, and finally in the Burr-Hamilton duel at Weehawken in 1804.


BURR

Hamilton, if he rides you down, remember 
That I was here to speak, and so to save 
Your fabric from catastrophe. That’s good; 
For I perceive that you observe him also. 
A President, a-riding of his horse,
May dust a General and be forgiven; 
But why be dusted—when we’re all alike, 
All equal, and all happy? Here he comes— 
And there he goes. And we, by your new patent, 
Would seem to be two kings here by the wayside,
With our two hats off to his Excellency. 
Why not his Majesty, and done with it? 
Forgive me if I shook your meditation, 
But you that weld our credit should have eyes 
To see what’s coming. Bury me first if I do.

HAMILTON

There’s always in some pocket of your brain 
A care for me; wherefore my gratitude 
For your attention is commensurate 
With your concern. Yes, Burr, we are two kings; 
We are as royal as two ditch-diggers;
But owe me not your sceptre. These are the days 
When first a few seem all; but if we live 
We may again be seen to be the few 
That we have always been. These are the days 
When men forget the stars, and are forgotten.

BURR

But why forget them? They’re the same that winked 
Upon the world when Alcibiades 
Cut off his dog’s tail to induce distinction. 
There are dogs yet, and Alcibiades 
Is not forgotten.

HAMILTON

Yes, there are dogs enough, 
God knows; and I can hear them in my dreams. 

BURR

Never a doubt. But what you hear the most 
Is your new music, something out of tune 
With your intention. How in the name of Cain,
I seem to hear you ask, are men to dance, 
When all men are musicians. Tell me that, 
I hear you saying, and I’ll tell you the name 
Of Samson’s mother. But why shroud yourself 
Before the coffin comes? For all you know,
The tree that is to fall for your last house 
Is now a sapling. You may have to wait 
So long as to be sorry; though I doubt it, 
For you are not at home in your new Eden 
Where chilly whispers of a likely frost
Accumulate already in the air. 
I think a touch of ermine, Hamilton, 
Would be for you in your autumnal mood 
A pleasant sort of warmth along the shoulders. 

HAMILTON

If so it is you think, you may as well
Give over thinking. We are done with ermine. 
What I fear most is not the multitude, 
But those who are to loop it with a string 
That has one end in France and one end here. 
I’m not so fortified with observation
That I could swear that more than half a score 
Among us who see lightning see that ruin 
Is not the work of thunder. Since the world 
Was ordered, there was never a long pause 
For caution between doing and undoing.

BURR

Go on, sir; my attention is a trap 
Set for the catching of all compliments 
To Monticello, and all else abroad 
That has a name or an identity. 

HAMILTON

I leave to you the names—there are too many;
Yet one there is to sift and hold apart, 
As now I see. There comes at last a glimmer 
That is not always clouded, or too late. 
But I was near and young, and had the reins 
To play with while he manned a team so raw
That only God knows where the end had been 
Of all that riding without Washington. 
There was a nation in the man who passed us, 
If there was not a world. I may have driven 
Since then some restive horses, and alone,
And through a splashing of abundant mud; 
But he who made the dust that sets you on 
To coughing, made the road. Now it seems dry, 
And in a measure safe. 

BURR

Here’s a new tune
From Hamilton. Has your caution all at once, 
And over night, grown till it wrecks the cradle? 
I have forgotten what my father said 
When I was born, but there’s a rustling of it 
Among my memories, and it makes a noise
About as loud as all that I have held 
And fondled heretofore of your same caution. 
But that’s affairs, not feelings. If our friends 
Guessed half we say of them, our enemies 
Would itch in our friends’ jackets. Howsoever,
The world is of a sudden on its head, 
And all are spilled—unless you cling alone 
With Washington. Ask Adams about that. 

HAMILTON

We’ll not ask Adams about anything. 
We fish for lizards when we choose to ask
For what we know already is not coming, 
And we must eat the answer. Where’s the use 
Of asking when this man says everything, 
With all his tongues of silence? 

BURR

I dare say.
I dare say, but I won’t. One of those tongues 
I’ll borrow for the nonce. He’ll never miss it. 
We mean his Western Majesty, King George. 

HAMILTON

I mean the man who rode by on his horse. 
I’ll beg of you the meed of your indulgence
If I should say this planet may have done 
A deal of weary whirling when at last, 
If ever, Time shall aggregate again 
A majesty like his that has no name. 

BURR

Then you concede his Majesty? That’s good,
And what of yours? Here are two majesties. 
Favor the Left a little, Hamilton, 
Or you’ll be floundering in the ditch that waits 
For riders who forget where they are riding. 
If we and France, as you anticipate,
Must eat each other, what Cæsar, if not yourself, 
Do you see for the master of the feast? 
There may be a place waiting on your head 
For laurel thick as Nero’s. You don’t know. 
I have not crossed your glory, though I might
If I saw thrones at auction. 

HAMILTON

Yes, you might. 
If war is on the way, I shall be—here; 
And I’ve no vision of your distant heels. 

BURR

I see that I shall take an inference
To bed with me to-night to keep me warm. 
I thank you, Hamilton, and I approve 
Your fealty to the aggregated greatness 
Of him you lean on while he leans on you. 

HAMILTON

This easy phrasing is a game of yours
That you may win to lose. I beg your pardon, 
But you that have the sight will not employ 
The will to see with it. If you did so, 
There might be fewer ditches dug for others 
In your perspective; and there might be fewer
Contemporary motes of prejudice 
Between you and the man who made the dust. 
Call him a genius or a gentleman, 
A prophet or a builder, or what not, 
But hold your disposition off the balance,
And weigh him in the light. Once (I believe 
I tell you nothing new to your surmise, 
Or to the tongues of towns and villages) 
I nourished with an adolescent fancy— 
Surely forgivable to you, my friend—
An innocent and amiable conviction 
That I was, by the grace of honest fortune, 
A savior at his elbow through the war, 
Where I might have observed, more than I did, 
Patience and wholesome passion. I was there,
And for such honor I gave nothing worse 
Than some advice at which he may have smiled. 
I must have given a modicum besides, 
Or the rough interval between those days 
And these would never have made for me my friends,
Or enemies. I should be something somewhere— 
I say not what—but I should not be here 
If he had not been there. Possibly, too, 
You might not—or that Quaker with his cane. 

BURR

Possibly, too, I should. When the Almighty
Rides a white horse, I fancy we shall know it. 

HAMILTON

It was a man, Burr, that was in my mind; 
No god, or ghost, or demon—only a man: 
A man whose occupation is the need 
Of those who would not feel it if it bit them;
And one who shapes an age while he endures 
The pin pricks of inferiorities; 
A cautious man, because he is but one; 
A lonely man, because he is a thousand. 
No marvel you are slow to find in him
The genius that is one spark or is nothing: 
His genius is a flame that he must hold 
So far above the common heads of men 
That they may view him only through the mist 
Of their defect, and wonder what he is.
It seems to me the mystery that is in him 
That makes him only more to me a man 
Than any other I have ever known. 

BURR

I grant you that his worship is a man. 
I’m not so much at home with mysteries,
May be, as you—so leave him with his fire: 
God knows that I shall never put it out. 
He has not made a cripple of himself 
In his pursuit of me, though I have heard 
His condescension honors me with parts.
Parts make a whole, if we’ve enough of them; 
And once I figured a sufficiency 
To be at least an atom in the annals 
Of your republic. But I must have erred. 

HAMILTON

You smile as if your spirit lived at ease
With error. I should not have named it so, 
Failing assent from you; nor, if I did, 
Should I be so complacent in my skill 
To comb the tangled language of the people 
As to be sure of anything in these days.
Put that much in account with modesty. 

BURR

What in the name of Ahab, Hamilton, 
Have you, in the last region of your dreaming, 
To do with “people”? You may be the devil 
In your dead-reckoning of what reefs and shoals
Are waiting on the progress of our ship 
Unless you steer it, but you’ll find it irksome 
Alone there in the stern; and some warm day 
There’ll be an inland music in the rigging, 
And afterwards on deck. I’m not affined
Or favored overmuch at Monticello, 
But there’s a mighty swarming of new bees 
About the premises, and all have wings. 
If you hear something buzzing before long, 
Be thoughtful how you strike, remembering also
There was a fellow Naboth had a vineyard, 
And Ahab cut his hair off and went softly. 

HAMILTON

I don’t remember that he cut his hair off. 

BURR

Somehow I rather fancy that he did. 
If so, it’s in the Book; and if not so,
He did the rest, and did it handsomely. 

HAMILTON

Commend yourself to Ahab and his ways 
If they inveigle you to emulation; 
But where, if I may ask it, are you tending 
With your invidious wielding of the Scriptures?
You call to mind an eminent archangel 
Who fell to make him famous. Would you fall 
So far as he, to be so far remembered? 

BURR

Before I fall or rise, or am an angel, 
I shall acquaint myself a little further
With our new land’s new language, which is not— 
Peace to your dreams—an idiom to your liking. 
I’m wondering if a man may always know 
How old a man may be at thirty-seven; 
I wonder likewise if a prettier time
Could be decreed for a good man to vanish 
Than about now for you, before you fade, 
And even your friends are seeing that you have had 
Your cup too full for longer mortal triumph. 
Well, you have had enough, and had it young;
And the old wine is nearer to the lees 
Than you are to the work that you are doing. 

HAMILTON

When does this philological excursion 
Into new lands and languages begin? 

BURR

Anon—that is, already. Only Fortune
Gave me this afternoon the benefaction 
Of your blue back, which I for love pursued, 
And in pursuing may have saved your life— 
Also the world a pounding piece of news: 
Hamilton bites the dust of Washington,
Or rather of his horse. For you alone, 
Or for your fame, I’d wish it might have been so. 

HAMILTON

Not every man among us has a friend 
So jealous for the other’s fame. How long 
Are you to diagnose the doubtful case
Of Demos—and what for? Have you a sword 
For some new Damocles? If it’s for me, 
I have lost all official appetite, 
And shall have faded, after January, 
Into the law. I’m going to New York.

BURR

No matter where you are, one of these days 
I shall come back to you and tell you something. 
This Demos, I have heard, has in his wrist 
A pulse that no two doctors have as yet 
Counted and found the same, and in his mouth
A tongue that has the like alacrity 
For saying or not for saying what most it is 
That pullulates in his ignoble mind. 
One of these days I shall appear again, 
To tell you more of him and his opinions;
I shall not be so long out of your sight, 
Or take myself so far, that I may not, 
Like Alcibiades, come back again. 
He went away to Phrygia, and fared ill. 

HAMILTON

There’s an example in Themistocles:
He went away to Persia, and fared well. 

BURR

So? Must I go so far? And if so, why so? 
I had not planned it so. Is this the road 
I take? If so, farewell. 

HAMILTON

Quite so. Farewell.


In memory of that excellent person Mrs. Mary Lloyd of Bodidrist in Denbigh-shire

 I CANNOT hold, for though to write were rude, 
Yet to be silent were Ingratitude, 
And Folly too; for if Posterity 
Should never hear of such a one as thee, 
And onely know this Age's brutish fame, 
They would think Vertue nothing but a Name. 
And though far abler Pens must her define, 
Yet her Adoption hath engaged mine: 
And I must own where Merit shines so clear, 
'Tis hard to write, but harder to forbear. 
Sprung from an ancient and an honour'd Stem, 
Who lent her lustre, and she paid it them; 
Who still in great and noble things appeared, 
Whom all their Country lov'd, and yet they feared. 
Match'd to another good and great as they, 
Who did their Country both oblige and sway. 
Behold herself, who had without dispute 
More then both Families could contribute. 
What early Beauty Grief and Age had broke, 
Her lovely Reliques and her Off-spring spoke. 
She was by nature and her Parents care 
A Woman long before most others are. 
But yet that antedated2 season she 
Improv'd to Vertue, not to Liberty. 
For she was still in either state of life 
Meek as a Virgin, Prudent as a Wife 
And she well knew, although so young and fair, 
Justly to mix Obedience Love and Care; 
Whil'st to her Children she did still appear 
So wisely kind, so tenderly severe, 
That they from her Rule and Example brought 
A native Honour, which she stampt and taught. 
Nor can a single Pen enough commend 
So kind a Sister and so clear a Friend. 
A Wisdom from above did her secure, 
Which as 'twas peaceable, was ever pure. 
And if well-order'd Commonwealths must be 
Patterns for every private Family, 
Her House, rul'd by her hand and by her eye, 
Might be a Pattern for a Monarchy. 
Solomon's wisest Woman less could do; 
She built her house, but this preserv'd hers too. 
She was so pious that when she did die, 
She scarce chang'd Place, I'm sure not Company. 
Her Zeal was primitive and practick too; 
She did believe, and pray, and read, and do. 
A firm and equal Soul she had engrost, 
Just ev'n to those that disoblig'd her most. 
She grew to love those wrongs she did receive 
For giving her the power to Forgive. 
Her Alms I may admire, but not relate; 
But her own works shall praise her in the gate. 
Her Life was checquer'd with afflictive years, 
And even her Comfort season'd in her Tears. 
Scarce for a Husband's loss her eyes were dried, 
And that loss by her Children half supplied, 
When Heav'n was pleas'd not these dear Propes' afford, 
But tore most off by sickness or by sword. 
She, who in them could still their Father boast, 
Was a fresh Widow every Son she lost. 
Litigious hands did her of Right deprive, 
That after all 'twas Penance to survive. 
She still these Griefs hath nobly undergone, 
Which few support at all, but better none. 
Such a submissive Greatness who can find? 
A tender Heart with so resolv'd a Mind? 
But she, though sensible, was still the same, 
Of a resigned Soul, untainted Fame, 
Nor were her Vertues coarsly set, for she 
Out-did Example in Civility. 
To bestow blessings, to oblige, relieve, 
Was all for which she could endure to live. 
She had a joy higher in doing good, 
Than they to whom the benefit accru'd. 
Though none of Honour had a quicker sense, 
Never had Woman more of complacence; 
Yet lost it not in empty forms, but still 
Her Nature noble was, her Soul gentile. 
And as in Youth she did attract, (for she 
The Verdure had without the Vanity) 
So she in Age was mild and grave to all, 
Was not morose, but was majestical. 
Thus from all other Women she had skill 
To draw their good, but nothing of their ill. 
And since she knew the mad tumultuous World, 
Saw Crowns revers'd, Temples to ruine hurl'd; 
She in Retirement chose to shine and burn, 
As a bright Lamp shut in some Roman Urn. 
At last, when spent with sickness, grief and age, 
Her Guardian Angel did her death presage: 
(So that by strong impulse she chearfully 
Dispensed blessings, and went home to die; 
That so she might, when to that place removed, 
Marry his Ashes whom she ever loved) 
She dy'd, gain'd a reward, and paid a debt. 
The Sun himself did never brighter set. 
Happy were they that knew her and her end, 
More happy they that did from her descend: 
A double blessing they may hope to have, 
One she convey'd to them, and one she gave. 
All that are hers are therefore sure to be 
Blest by Inheritance and Legacy. 
A Royal Birth had less advantage been. 
'Tis more to die a Saint than live a Queen.


Paradise Lost: Book 09

 No more of talk where God or Angel guest 
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd, 
To sit indulgent, and with him partake 
Rural repast; permitting him the while 
Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change 
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach 
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt, 
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven 
Now alienated, distance and distaste, 
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given, 
That brought into this world a world of woe, 
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery 
Death's harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument 
Not less but more heroick than the wrath 
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued 
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage 
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd; 
Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long 
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son: 

If answerable style I can obtain 
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns 
Her nightly visitation unimplor'd, 
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires 
Easy my unpremeditated verse: 
Since first this subject for heroick song 
Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late; 
Not sedulous by nature to indite 
Wars, hitherto the only argument 
Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect 
With long and tedious havock fabled knights 
In battles feign'd; the better fortitude 
Of patience and heroick martyrdom 
Unsung; or to describe races and games, 
Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields, 
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds, 
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights 
At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast 
Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals; 
The skill of artifice or office mean, 
Not that which justly gives heroick name 
To person, or to poem. Me, of these 
Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument 
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise 
That name, unless an age too late, or cold 
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing 
Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine, 
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear. 
The sun was sunk, and after him the star 
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring 
Twilight upon the earth, short arbiter 
"twixt day and night, and now from end to end 
Night's hemisphere had veil'd the horizon round: 
When satan, who late fled before the threats 
Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improv'd 
In meditated fraud and malice, bent 
On Man's destruction, maugre what might hap 
Of heavier on himself, fearless returned 
From compassing the earth; cautious of day, 
Since Uriel, regent of the sun, descried 
His entrance, and foreworned the Cherubim 
That kept their watch; thence full of anguish driven, 
The space of seven continued nights he rode 
With darkness; thrice the equinoctial line 
He circled; four times crossed the car of night 
From pole to pole, traversing each colure; 
On the eighth returned; and, on the coast averse 
From entrance or Cherubick watch, by stealth 
Found unsuspected way. There was a place, 
Now not, though sin, not time, first wrought the change, 
Where Tigris, at the foot of Paradise, 
Into a gulf shot under ground, till part 
Rose up a fountain by the tree of life: 
In with the river sunk, and with it rose 
Satan, involved in rising mist; then sought 
Where to lie hid; sea he had searched, and land, 
From Eden over Pontus and the pool 
Maeotis, up beyond the river Ob; 
Downward as far antarctick; and in length, 
West from Orontes to the ocean barred 
At Darien ; thence to the land where flows 
Ganges and Indus: Thus the orb he roamed 
With narrow search; and with inspection deep 
Considered every creature, which of all 
Most opportune might serve his wiles; and found 
The Serpent subtlest beast of all the field. 
Him after long debate, irresolute 
Of thoughts revolved, his final sentence chose 
Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom 
To enter, and his dark suggestions hide 
From sharpest sight: for, in the wily snake 
Whatever sleights, none would suspicious mark, 
As from his wit and native subtlety 
Proceeding; which, in other beasts observed, 
Doubt might beget of diabolick power 
Active within, beyond the sense of brute. 
Thus he resolved, but first from inward grief 
His bursting passion into plaints thus poured. 
More justly, seat worthier of Gods, as built 
With second thoughts, reforming what was old! 
O Earth, how like to Heaven, if not preferred 
For what God, after better, worse would build? 
Terrestrial Heaven, danced round by other Heavens 
That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps, 
Light above light, for thee alone, as seems, 
In thee concentring all their precious beams 
Of sacred influence! As God in Heaven 
Is center, yet extends to all; so thou, 
Centring, receivest from all those orbs: in thee, 
Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears 
Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth 
Of creatures animate with gradual life 
Of growth, sense, reason, all summed up in Man. 
With what delight could I have walked thee round, 
If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange 
Of hill, and valley, rivers, woods, and plains, 
Now land, now sea and shores with forest crowned, 
Rocks, dens, and caves! But I in none of these 
Find place or refuge; and the more I see 
Pleasures about me, so much more I feel 
Torment within me, as from the hateful siege 
Of contraries: all good to me becomes 
Bane, and in Heaven much worse would be my state. 
But neither here seek I, no nor in Heaven 
To dwell, unless by mastering Heaven's Supreme; 
Nor hope to be myself less miserable 
By what I seek, but others to make such 
As I, though thereby worse to me redound: 
For only in destroying I find ease 
To my relentless thoughts; and, him destroyed, 
Or won to what may work his utter loss, 
For whom all this was made, all this will soon 
Follow, as to him linked in weal or woe; 
In woe then; that destruction wide may range: 
To me shall be the glory sole among 
The infernal Powers, in one day to have marred 
What he, Almighty styled, six nights and days 
Continued making; and who knows how long 
Before had been contriving? though perhaps 
Not longer than since I, in one night, freed 
From servitude inglorious well nigh half 
The angelick name, and thinner left the throng 
Of his adorers: He, to be avenged, 
And to repair his numbers thus impaired, 
Whether such virtue spent of old now failed 
More Angels to create, if they at least 
Are his created, or, to spite us more, 
Determined to advance into our room 
A creature formed of earth, and him endow, 
Exalted from so base original, 
With heavenly spoils, our spoils: What he decreed, 
He effected; Man he made, and for him built 
Magnificent this world, and earth his seat, 
Him lord pronounced; and, O indignity! 
Subjected to his service angel-wings, 
And flaming ministers to watch and tend 
Their earthly charge: Of these the vigilance 
I dread; and, to elude, thus wrapt in mist 
Of midnight vapour glide obscure, and pry 
In every bush and brake, where hap may find 
The serpent sleeping; in whose mazy folds 
To hide me, and the dark intent I bring. 
O foul descent! that I, who erst contended 
With Gods to sit the highest, am now constrained 
Into a beast; and, mixed with bestial slime, 
This essence to incarnate and imbrute, 
That to the highth of Deity aspired! 
But what will not ambition and revenge 
Descend to? Who aspires, must down as low 
As high he soared; obnoxious, first or last, 
To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet, 
Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils: 
Let it; I reck not, so it light well aimed, 
Since higher I fall short, on him who next 
Provokes my envy, this new favourite 
Of Heaven, this man of clay, son of despite, 
Whom, us the more to spite, his Maker raised 
From dust: Spite then with spite is best repaid. 
So saying, through each thicket dank or dry, 
Like a black mist low-creeping, he held on 
His midnight-search, where soonest he might find 
The serpent; him fast-sleeping soon he found 
In labyrinth of many a round self-rolled, 
His head the midst, well stored with subtile wiles: 
Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den, 
Nor nocent yet; but, on the grassy herb, 
Fearless unfeared he slept: in at his mouth 
The Devil entered; and his brutal sense, 
In heart or head, possessing, soon inspired 
With act intelligential; but his sleep 
Disturbed not, waiting close the approach of morn. 
Now, when as sacred light began to dawn 
In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed 
Their morning incense, when all things, that breathe, 
From the Earth's great altar send up silent praise 
To the Creator, and his nostrils fill 
With grateful smell, forth came the human pair, 
And joined their vocal worship to the quire 
Of creatures wanting voice; that done, partake 
The season prime for sweetest scents and airs: 
Then commune, how that day they best may ply 
Their growing work: for much their work out-grew 
The hands' dispatch of two gardening so wide, 
And Eve first to her husband thus began. 
Adam, well may we labour still to dress 
This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower, 
Our pleasant task enjoined; but, till more hands 
Aid us, the work under our labour grows, 
Luxurious by restraint; what we by day 
Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, 
One night or two with wanton growth derides 
Tending to wild. Thou therefore now advise, 
Or bear what to my mind first thoughts present: 
Let us divide our labours; thou, where choice 
Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind 
The woodbine round this arbour, or direct 
The clasping ivy where to climb; while I, 
In yonder spring of roses intermixed 
With myrtle, find what to redress till noon: 
For, while so near each other thus all day 
Our task we choose, what wonder if so near 
Looks intervene and smiles, or object new 
Casual discourse draw on; which intermits 
Our day's work, brought to little, though begun 
Early, and the hour of supper comes unearned? 
To whom mild answer Adam thus returned. 
Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond 
Compare above all living creatures dear! 
Well hast thou motioned, well thy thoughts employed, 
How we might best fulfil the work which here 
God hath assigned us; nor of me shalt pass 
Unpraised: for nothing lovelier can be found 
In woman, than to study houshold good, 
And good works in her husband to promote. 
Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed 
Labour, as to debar us when we need 
Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, 
Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse 
Of looks and smiles; for smiles from reason flow, 
To brute denied, and are of love the food; 
Love, not the lowest end of human life. 
For not to irksome toil, but to delight, 
He made us, and delight to reason joined. 
These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands 
Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide 
As we need walk, till younger hands ere long 
Assist us; But, if much converse perhaps 
Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield: 
For solitude sometimes is best society, 
And short retirement urges sweet return. 
But other doubt possesses me, lest harm 
Befall thee severed from me; for thou knowest 
What hath been warned us, what malicious foe 
Envying our happiness, and of his own 
Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame 
By sly assault; and somewhere nigh at hand 
Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find 
His wish and best advantage, us asunder; 
Hopeless to circumvent us joined, where each 
To other speedy aid might lend at need: 
Whether his first design be to withdraw 
Our fealty from God, or to disturb 
Conjugal love, than which perhaps no bliss 
Enjoyed by us excites his envy more; 
Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side 
That gave thee being, still shades thee, and protects. 
The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, 
Safest and seemliest by her husband stays, 
Who guards her, or with her the worst endures. 
To whom the virgin majesty of Eve, 
As one who loves, and some unkindness meets, 
With sweet austere composure thus replied. 
Offspring of Heaven and Earth, and all Earth's Lord! 
That such an enemy we have, who seeks 
Our ruin, both by thee informed I learn, 
And from the parting Angel over-heard, 
As in a shady nook I stood behind, 
Just then returned at shut of evening flowers. 
But, that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt 
To God or thee, because we have a foe 
May tempt it, I expected not to hear. 
His violence thou fearest not, being such 
As we, not capable of death or pain, 
Can either not receive, or can repel. 
His fraud is then thy fear; which plain infers 
Thy equal fear, that my firm faith and love 
Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced; 
Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy breast, 
Adam, mis-thought of her to thee so dear? 
To whom with healing words Adam replied. 
Daughter of God and Man, immortal Eve! 
For such thou art; from sin and blame entire: 
Not diffident of thee do I dissuade 
Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid 
The attempt itself, intended by our foe. 
For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses 
The tempted with dishonour foul; supposed 
Not incorruptible of faith, not proof 
Against temptation: Thou thyself with scorn 
And anger wouldst resent the offered wrong, 
Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then, 
If such affront I labour to avert 
From thee alone, which on us both at once 
The enemy, though bold, will hardly dare; 
Or daring, first on me the assault shall light. 
Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn; 
Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce 
Angels; nor think superfluous other's aid. 
I, from the influence of thy looks, receive 
Access in every virtue; in thy sight 
More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were 
Of outward strength; while shame, thou looking on, 
Shame to be overcome or over-reached, 
Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite. 
Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel 
When I am present, and thy trial choose 
With me, best witness of thy virtue tried? 
So spake domestick Adam in his care 
And matrimonial love; but Eve, who thought 
Less attributed to her faith sincere, 
Thus her reply with accent sweet renewed. 
If this be our condition, thus to dwell 
In narrow circuit straitened by a foe, 
Subtle or violent, we not endued 
Single with like defence, wherever met; 
How are we happy, still in fear of harm? 
But harm precedes not sin: only our foe, 
Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem 
Of our integrity: his foul esteem 
Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns 
Foul on himself; then wherefore shunned or feared 
By us? who rather double honour gain 
From his surmise proved false; find peace within, 
Favour from Heaven, our witness, from the event. 
And what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed 
Alone, without exteriour help sustained? 
Let us not then suspect our happy state 
Left so imperfect by the Maker wise, 
As not secure to single or combined. 
Frail is our happiness, if this be so, 
And Eden were no Eden, thus exposed. 
To whom thus Adam fervently replied. 
O Woman, best are all things as the will 
Of God ordained them: His creating hand 
Nothing imperfect or deficient left 
Of all that he created, much less Man, 
Or aught that might his happy state secure, 
Secure from outward force; within himself 
The danger lies, yet lies within his power: 
Against his will he can receive no harm. 
But God left free the will; for what obeys 
Reason, is free; and Reason he made right, 
But bid her well be ware, and still erect; 
Lest, by some fair-appearing good surprised, 
She dictate false; and mis-inform the will 
To do what God expressly hath forbid. 
Not then mistrust, but tender love, enjoins, 
That I should mind thee oft; and mind thou me. 
Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve; 
Since Reason not impossibly may meet 
Some specious object by the foe suborned, 
And fall into deception unaware, 
Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warned. 
Seek not temptation then, which to avoid 
Were better, and most likely if from me 
Thou sever not: Trial will come unsought. 
Wouldst thou approve thy constancy, approve 
First thy obedience; the other who can know, 
Not seeing thee attempted, who attest? 
But, if thou think, trial unsought may find 
Us both securer than thus warned thou seemest, 
Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more; 
Go in thy native innocence, rely 
On what thou hast of virtue; summon all! 
For God towards thee hath done his part, do thine. 
So spake the patriarch of mankind; but Eve 
Persisted; yet submiss, though last, replied. 
With thy permission then, and thus forewarned 
Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words 
Touched only; that our trial, when least sought, 
May find us both perhaps far less prepared, 
The willinger I go, nor much expect 
A foe so proud will first the weaker seek; 
So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse. 
Thus saying, from her husband's hand her hand 
Soft she withdrew; and, like a Wood-Nymph light, 
Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's train, 
Betook her to the groves; but Delia's self 
In gait surpassed, and Goddess-like deport, 
Though not as she with bow and quiver armed, 
But with such gardening tools as Art yet rude, 
Guiltless of fire, had formed, or Angels brought. 
To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorned, 
Likest she seemed, Pomona when she fled 
Vertumnus, or to Ceres in her prime, 
Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove. 
Her long with ardent look his eye pursued 
Delighted, but desiring more her stay. 
Oft he to her his charge of quick return 
Repeated; she to him as oft engaged 
To be returned by noon amid the bower, 
And all things in best order to invite 
Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose. 
O much deceived, much failing, hapless Eve, 
Of thy presumed return! event perverse! 
Thou never from that hour in Paradise 
Foundst either sweet repast, or sound repose; 
Such ambush, hid among sweet flowers and shades, 
Waited with hellish rancour imminent 
To intercept thy way, or send thee back 
Despoiled of innocence, of faith, of bliss! 
For now, and since first break of dawn, the Fiend, 
Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come; 
And on his quest, where likeliest he might find 
The only two of mankind, but in them 
The whole included race, his purposed prey. 
In bower and field he sought, where any tuft 
Of grove or garden-plot more pleasant lay, 
Their tendance, or plantation for delight; 
By fountain or by shady rivulet 
He sought them both, but wished his hap might find 
Eve separate; he wished, but not with hope 
Of what so seldom chanced; when to his wish, 
Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies, 
Veiled in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood, 
Half spied, so thick the roses blushing round 
About her glowed, oft stooping to support 
Each flower of slender stalk, whose head, though gay 
Carnation, purple, azure, or specked with gold, 
Hung drooping unsustained; them she upstays 
Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while 
Herself, though fairest unsupported flower, 
From her best prop so far, and storm so nigh. 
Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed 
Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm; 
Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen, 
Among thick-woven arborets, and flowers 
Imbordered on each bank, the hand of Eve: 
Spot more delicious than those gardens feigned 
Or of revived Adonis, or renowned 
Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son; 
Or that, not mystick, where the sapient king 
Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. 
Much he the place admired, the person more. 
As one who long in populous city pent, 
Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, 
Forth issuing on a summer's morn, to breathe 
Among the pleasant villages and farms 
Adjoined, from each thing met conceives delight; 
The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, 
Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound; 
If chance, with nymph-like step, fair virgin pass, 
What pleasing seemed, for her now pleases more; 
She most, and in her look sums all delight: 
Such pleasure took the Serpent to behold 
This flowery plat, the sweet recess of Eve 
Thus early, thus alone: Her heavenly form 
Angelick, but more soft, and feminine, 
Her graceful innocence, her every air 
Of gesture, or least action, overawed 
His malice, and with rapine sweet bereaved 
His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought: 
That space the Evil-one abstracted stood 
From his own evil, and for the time remained 
Stupidly good; of enmity disarmed, 
Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge: 
But the hot Hell that always in him burns, 
Though in mid Heaven, soon ended his delight, 
And tortures him now more, the more he sees 
Of pleasure, not for him ordained: then soon 
Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts 
Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites. 
Thoughts, whither have ye led me! with what sweet 
Compulsion thus transported, to forget 
What hither brought us! hate, not love;nor hope 
Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste 
Of pleasure; but all pleasure to destroy, 
Save what is in destroying; other joy 
To me is lost. Then, let me not let pass 
Occasion which now smiles; behold alone 
The woman, opportune to all attempts, 
Her husband, for I view far round, not nigh, 
Whose higher intellectual more I shun, 
And strength, of courage haughty, and of limb 
Heroick built, though of terrestrial mould; 
Foe not informidable! exempt from wound, 
I not; so much hath Hell debased, and pain 
Enfeebled me, to what I was in Heaven. 
She fair, divinely fair, fit love for Gods! 
Not terrible, though terrour be in love 
And beauty, not approached by stronger hate, 
Hate stronger, under show of love well feigned; 
The way which to her ruin now I tend. 
So spake the enemy of mankind, enclosed 
In serpent, inmate bad! and toward Eve 
Addressed his way: not with indented wave, 
Prone on the ground, as since; but on his rear, 
Circular base of rising folds, that towered 
Fold above fold, a surging maze! his head 
Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes; 
With burnished neck of verdant gold, erect 
Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass 
Floated redundant: pleasing was his shape 
And lovely; never since of serpent-kind 
Lovelier, not those that in Illyria changed, 
Hermione and Cadmus, or the god 
In Epidaurus; nor to which transformed 
Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline, was seen; 
He with Olympias; this with her who bore 
Scipio, the highth of Rome. With tract oblique 
At first, as one who sought access, but feared 
To interrupt, side-long he works his way. 
As when a ship, by skilful steersmen wrought 
Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind 
Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail: 
So varied he, and of his tortuous train 
Curled many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, 
To lure her eye; she, busied, heard the sound 
Of rusling leaves, but minded not, as used 
To such disport before her through the field, 
From every beast; more duteous at her call, 
Than at Circean call the herd disguised. 
He, bolder now, uncalled before her stood, 
But as in gaze admiring: oft he bowed 
His turret crest, and sleek enamelled neck, 
Fawning; and licked the ground whereon she trod. 
His gentle dumb expression turned at length 
The eye of Eve to mark his play; he, glad 
Of her attention gained, with serpent-tongue 
Organick, or impulse of vocal air, 
His fraudulent temptation thus began. 
Wonder not, sovran Mistress, if perhaps 
Thou canst, who art sole wonder! much less arm 
Thy looks, the Heaven of mildness, with disdain, 
Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze 
Insatiate; I thus single;nor have feared 
Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired. 
Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair, 
Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore 
With ravishment beheld! there best beheld, 
Where universally admired; but here 
In this enclosure wild, these beasts among, 
Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
Half what in thee is fair, one man except, 
Who sees thee? and what is one? who should be seen 
A Goddess among Gods, adored and served 
By Angels numberless, thy daily train. 
So glozed the Tempter, and his proem tuned: 
Into the heart of Eve his words made way, 
Though at the voice much marvelling; at length, 
Not unamazed, she thus in answer spake. 
What may this mean? language of man pronounced 
By tongue of brute, and human sense expressed? 
The first, at least, of these I thought denied 
To beasts; whom God, on their creation-day, 
Created mute to all articulate sound: 
The latter I demur; for in their looks 
Much reason, and in their actions, oft appears. 
Thee, Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field 
I knew, but not with human voice endued; 
Redouble then this miracle, and say, 
How camest thou speakable of mute, and how 
To me so friendly grown above the rest 
Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight? 
Say, for such wonder claims attention due. 
To whom the guileful Tempter thus replied. 
Empress of this fair world, resplendent Eve! 
Easy to me it is to tell thee all 
What thou commandest; and right thou shouldst be obeyed: 
I was at first as other beasts that graze 
The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low, 
As was my food; nor aught but food discerned 
Or sex, and apprehended nothing high: 
Till, on a day roving the field, I chanced 
A goodly tree far distant to behold 
Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixed, 
Ruddy and gold: I nearer drew to gaze; 
When from the boughs a savoury odour blown, 
Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense 
Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats 
Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at even, 
Unsucked of lamb or kid, that tend their play. 
To satisfy the sharp desire I had 
Of tasting those fair apples, I resolved 
Not to defer; hunger and thirst at once, 
Powerful persuaders, quickened at the scent 
Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. 
About the mossy trunk I wound me soon; 
For, high from ground, the branches would require 
Thy utmost reach or Adam's: Round the tree 
All other beasts that saw, with like desire 
Longing and envying stood, but could not reach. 
Amid the tree now got, where plenty hung 
Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill 
I spared not; for, such pleasure till that hour, 
At feed or fountain, never had I found. 
Sated at length, ere long I might perceive 
Strange alteration in me, to degree 
Of reason in my inward powers; and speech 
Wanted not long; though to this shape retained. 
Thenceforth to speculations high or deep 
I turned my thoughts, and with capacious mind 
Considered all things visible in Heaven, 
Or Earth, or Middle; all things fair and good: 
But all that fair and good in thy divine 
Semblance, and in thy beauty's heavenly ray, 
United I beheld; no fair to thine 
Equivalent or second! which compelled 
Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come 
And gaze, and worship thee of right declared 
Sovran of creatures, universal Dame! 
So talked the spirited sly Snake; and Eve, 
Yet more amazed, unwary thus replied. 
Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt 
The virtue of that fruit, in thee first proved: 
But say, where grows the tree? from hence how far? 
For many are the trees of God that grow 
In Paradise, and various, yet unknown 
To us; in such abundance lies our choice, 
As leaves a greater store of fruit untouched, 
Still hanging incorruptible, till men 
Grow up to their provision, and more hands 
Help to disburden Nature of her birth. 
To whom the wily Adder, blithe and glad. 
Empress, the way is ready, and not long; 
Beyond a row of myrtles, on a flat, 
Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
Of blowing myrrh and balm: if thou accept 
My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon 
Lead then, said Eve. He, leading, swiftly rolled 
In tangles, and made intricate seem straight, 
To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy 
Brightens his crest; as when a wandering fire, 
Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night 
Condenses, and the cold environs round, 
Kindled through agitation to a flame, 
Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends, 
Hovering and blazing with delusive light, 
Misleads the amazed night-wanderer from his way 
To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool; 
There swallowed up and lost, from succour far. 
So glistered the dire Snake, and into fraud 
Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the tree 
Of prohibition, root of all our woe; 
Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake. 
Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither, 
Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to excess, 
The credit of whose virtue rest with thee; 
Wonderous indeed, if cause of such effects. 
But of this tree we may not taste nor touch; 
God so commanded, and left that command 
Sole daughter of his voice; the rest, we live 
Law to ourselves; our reason is our law. 
To whom the Tempter guilefully replied. 
Indeed! hath God then said that of the fruit 
Of all these garden-trees ye shall not eat, 
Yet Lords declared of all in earth or air$? 
To whom thus Eve, yet sinless. Of the fruit 
Of each tree in the garden we may eat; 
But of the fruit of this fair tree amidst 
The garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat 
Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die. 
She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold 
The Tempter, but with show of zeal and love 
To Man, and indignation at his wrong, 
New part puts on; and, as to passion moved, 
Fluctuates disturbed, yet comely and in act 
Raised, as of some great matter to begin. 
As when of old some orator renowned, 
In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 
Flourished, since mute! to some great cause addressed, 
Stood in himself collected; while each part, 
Motion, each act, won audience ere the tongue; 
Sometimes in highth began, as no delay 
Of preface brooking, through his zeal of right: 
So standing, moving, or to highth up grown, 
The Tempter, all impassioned, thus began. 
O sacred, wise, and wisdom-giving Plant, 
Mother of science! now I feel thy power 
Within me clear; not only to discern 
Things in their causes, but to trace the ways 
Of highest agents, deemed however wise. 
Queen of this universe! do not believe 
Those rigid threats of death: ye shall not die: 
How should you? by the fruit? it gives you life 
To knowledge; by the threatener? look on me, 
Me, who have touched and tasted; yet both live, 
And life more perfect have attained than Fate 
Meant me, by venturing higher than my lot. 
Shall that be shut to Man, which to the Beast 
Is open? or will God incense his ire 
For such a petty trespass? and not praise 
Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain 
Of death denounced, whatever thing death be, 
Deterred not from achieving what might lead 
To happier life, knowledge of good and evil; 
Of good, how just? of evil, if what is evil 
Be real, why not known, since easier shunned? 
God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just; 
Not just, not God; not feared then, nor obeyed: 
Your fear itself of death removes the fear. 
Why then was this forbid? Why, but to awe; 
Why, but to keep ye low and ignorant, 
His worshippers? He knows that in the day 
Ye eat thereof, your eyes that seem so clear, 
Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then 
Opened and cleared, and ye shall be as Gods, 
Knowing both good and evil, as they know. 
That ye shall be as Gods, since I as Man, 
Internal Man, is but proportion meet; 
I, of brute, human; ye, of human, Gods. 
So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off 
Human, to put on Gods; death to be wished, 
Though threatened, which no worse than this can bring. 
And what are Gods, that Man may not become 
As they, participating God-like food? 
The Gods are first, and that advantage use 
On our belief, that all from them proceeds: 
I question it; for this fair earth I see, 
Warmed by the sun, producing every kind; 
Them, nothing: if they all things, who enclosed 
Knowledge of good and evil in this tree, 
That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains 
Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies 
The offence, that Man should thus attain to know? 
What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree 
Impart against his will, if all be his? 
Or is it envy? and can envy dwell 
In heavenly breasts? These, these, and many more 
Causes import your need of this fair fruit. 
Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste! 
He ended; and his words, replete with guile, 
Into her heart too easy entrance won: 
Fixed on the fruit she gazed, which to behold 
Might tempt alone; and in her ears the sound 
Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregned 
With reason, to her seeming, and with truth: 
Mean while the hour of noon drew on, and waked 
An eager appetite, raised by the smell 
So savoury of that fruit, which with desire, 
Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, 
Solicited her longing eye; yet first 
Pausing a while, thus to herself she mused. 
Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits, 
Though kept from man, and worthy to be admired; 
Whose taste, too long forborn, at first assay 
Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise: 
Thy praise he also, who forbids thy use, 
Conceals not from us, naming thee the tree 
Of knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil; 
Forbids us then to taste! but his forbidding 
Commends thee more, while it infers the good 
By thee communicated, and our want: 
For good unknown sure is not had; or, had 
And yet unknown, is as not had at all. 
In plain then, what forbids he but to know, 
Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise? 
Such prohibitions bind not. But, if death 
Bind us with after-bands, what profits then 
Our inward freedom? In the day we eat 
Of this fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die! 
How dies the Serpent? he hath eaten and lives, 
And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns, 
Irrational till then. For us alone 
Was death invented? or to us denied 
This intellectual food, for beasts reserved? 
For beasts it seems: yet that one beast which first 
Hath tasted envies not, but brings with joy 
The good befallen him, author unsuspect, 
Friendly to man, far from deceit or guile. 
What fear I then? rather, what know to fear 
Under this ignorance of good and evil, 
Of God or death, of law or penalty? 
Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, 
Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste, 
Of virtue to make wise: What hinders then 
To reach, and feed at once both body and mind? 
So saying, her rash hand in evil hour 
Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she eat! 
Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat, 
Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe, 
That all was lost. Back to the thicket slunk 
The guilty Serpent; and well might;for Eve, 
Intent now wholly on her taste, nought else 
Regarded; such delight till then, as seemed, 
In fruit she never tasted, whether true 
Or fancied so, through expectation high 
Of knowledge; not was Godhead from her thought. 
Greedily she ingorged without restraint, 
And knew not eating death: Satiate at length, 
And hightened as with wine, jocund and boon, 
Thus to herself she pleasingly began. 
O sovran, virtuous, precious of all trees 
In Paradise! of operation blest 
To sapience, hitherto obscured, infamed. 
And thy fair fruit let hang, as to no end 
Created; but henceforth my early care, 
Not without song, each morning, and due praise, 
Shall tend thee, and the fertile burden ease 
Of thy full branches offered free to all; 
Till, dieted by thee, I grow mature 
In knowledge, as the Gods, who all things know; 
Though others envy what they cannot give: 
For, had the gift been theirs, it had not here 
Thus grown. Experience, next, to thee I owe, 
Best guide; not following thee, I had remained 
In ignorance; thou openest wisdom's way, 
And givest access, though secret she retire. 
And I perhaps am secret: Heaven is high, 
High, and remote to see from thence distinct 
Each thing on Earth; and other care perhaps 
May have diverted from continual watch 
Our great Forbidder, safe with all his spies 
About him. But to Adam in what sort 
Shall I appear? shall I to him make known 
As yet my change, and give him to partake 
Full happiness with me, or rather not, 
But keeps the odds of knowledge in my power 
Without copartner? so to add what wants 
In female sex, the more to draw his love, 
And render me more equal; and perhaps, 
A thing not undesirable, sometime 
Superiour; for, inferiour, who is free 
This may be well: But what if God have seen, 
And death ensue? then I shall be no more! 
And Adam, wedded to another Eve, 
Shall live with her enjoying, I extinct; 
A death to think! Confirmed then I resolve, 
Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe: 
So dear I love him, that with him all deaths 
I could endure, without him live no life. 
So saying, from the tree her step she turned; 
But first low reverence done, as to the Power 
That dwelt within, whose presence had infused 
Into the plant sciential sap, derived 
From nectar, drink of Gods. Adam the while, 
Waiting desirous her return, had wove 
Of choicest flowers a garland, to adorn 
Her tresses, and her rural labours crown; 
As reapers oft are wont their harvest-queen. 
Great joy he promised to his thoughts, and new 
Solace in her return, so long delayed: 
Yet oft his heart, divine of something ill, 
Misgave him; he the faltering measure felt; 
And forth to meet her went, the way she took 
That morn when first they parted: by the tree 
Of knowledge he must pass; there he her met, 
Scarce from the tree returning; in her hand 
A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smiled, 
New gathered, and ambrosial smell diffused. 
To him she hasted; in her face excuse 
Came prologue, and apology too prompt; 
Which, with bland words at will, she thus addressed. 
Hast thou not wondered, Adam, at my stay? 
Thee I have missed, and thought it long, deprived 
Thy presence; agony of love till now 
Not felt, nor shall be twice; for never more 
Mean I to try, what rash untried I sought, 
The pain of absence from thy sight. But strange 
Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear: 
This tree is not, as we are told, a tree 
Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown 
Opening the way, but of divine effect 
To open eyes, and make them Gods who taste; 
And hath been tasted such: The serpent wise, 
Or not restrained as we, or not obeying, 
Hath eaten of the fruit; and is become, 
Not dead, as we are threatened, but thenceforth 
Endued with human voice and human sense, 
Reasoning to admiration; and with me 
Persuasively hath so prevailed, that I 
Have also tasted, and have also found 
The effects to correspond; opener mine eyes, 
Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart, 
And growing up to Godhead; which for thee 
Chiefly I sought, without thee can despise. 
For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss; 
Tedious, unshared with thee, and odious soon. 
Thou therefore also taste, that equal lot 
May join us, equal joy, as equal love; 
Lest, thou not tasting, different degree 
Disjoin us, and I then too late renounce 
Deity for thee, when Fate will not permit. 
Thus Eve with countenance blithe her story told; 
But in her cheek distemper flushing glowed. 
On the other side Adam, soon as he heard 
The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, 
Astonied stood and blank, while horrour chill 
Ran through his veins, and all his joints relaxed; 
From his slack hand the garland wreathed for Eve 
Down dropt, and all the faded roses shed: 
Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length 
First to himself he inward silence broke. 
O fairest of Creation, last and best 
Of all God's works, Creature in whom excelled 
Whatever can to sight or thought be formed, 
Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! 
How art thou lost! how on a sudden lost, 
Defaced, deflowered, and now to death devote! 
Rather, how hast thou yielded to transgress 
The strict forbiddance, how to violate 
The sacred fruit forbidden! Some cursed fraud 
Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown, 
And me with thee hath ruined; for with thee 
Certain my resolution is to die: 
How can I live without thee! how forego 
Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly joined, 
To live again in these wild woods forlorn! 
Should God create another Eve, and I 
Another rib afford, yet loss of thee 
Would never from my heart: no, no!I feel 
The link of Nature draw me: flesh of flesh, 
Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state 
Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe. 
So having said, as one from sad dismay 
Recomforted, and after thoughts disturbed 
Submitting to what seemed remediless, 
Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turned. 
Bold deed thou hast presumed, adventurous Eve, 
And peril great provoked, who thus hast dared, 
Had it been only coveting to eye 
That sacred fruit, sacred to abstinence, 
Much more to taste it under ban to touch. 
But past who can recall, or done undo? 
Not God Omnipotent, nor Fate; yet so 
Perhaps thou shalt not die, perhaps the fact 
Is not so heinous now, foretasted fruit, 
Profaned first by the serpent, by him first 
Made common, and unhallowed, ere our taste; 
Nor yet on him found deadly; yet he lives; 
Lives, as thou saidst, and gains to live, as Man, 
Higher degree of life; inducement strong 
To us, as likely tasting to attain 
Proportional ascent; which cannot be 
But to be Gods, or Angels, demi-Gods. 
Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, 
Though threatening, will in earnest so destroy 
Us his prime creatures, dignified so high, 
Set over all his works; which in our fall, 
For us created, needs with us must fail, 
Dependant made; so God shall uncreate, 
Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose; 
Not well conceived of God, who, though his power 
Creation could repeat, yet would be loth 
Us to abolish, lest the Adversary 
Triumph, and say; "Fickle their state whom God 
"Most favours; who can please him long? Me first 
"He ruined, now Mankind; whom will he next?" 
Matter of scorn, not to be given the Foe. 
However I with thee have fixed my lot, 
Certain to undergo like doom: If death 
Consort with thee, death is to me as life; 
So forcible within my heart I feel 
The bond of Nature draw me to my own; 
My own in thee, for what thou art is mine; 
Our state cannot be severed; we are one, 
One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself. 
So Adam; and thus Eve to him replied. 
O glorious trial of exceeding love, 
Illustrious evidence, example high! 
Engaging me to emulate; but, short 
Of thy perfection, how shall I attain, 
Adam, from whose dear side I boast me sprung, 
And gladly of our union hear thee speak, 
One heart, one soul in both; whereof good proof 
This day affords, declaring thee resolved, 
Rather than death, or aught than death more dread, 
Shall separate us, linked in love so dear, 
To undergo with me one guilt, one crime, 
If any be, of tasting this fair fruit; 
Whose virtue for of good still good proceeds, 
Direct, or by occasion, hath presented 
This happy trial of thy love, which else 
So eminently never had been known? 
Were it I thought death menaced would ensue 
This my attempt, I would sustain alone 
The worst, and not persuade thee, rather die 
Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact 
Pernicious to thy peace; chiefly assured 
Remarkably so late of thy so true, 
So faithful, love unequalled: but I feel 
Far otherwise the event; not death, but life 
Augmented, opened eyes, new hopes, new joys, 
Taste so divine, that what of sweet before 
Hath touched my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh. 
On my experience, Adam, freely taste, 
And fear of death deliver to the winds. 
So saying, she embraced him, and for joy 
Tenderly wept; much won, that he his love 
Had so ennobled, as of choice to incur 
Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 
In recompence for such compliance bad 
Such recompence best merits from the bough 
She gave him of that fair enticing fruit 
With liberal hand: he scrupled not to eat, 
Against his better knowledge; not deceived, 
But fondly overcome with female charm. 
Earth trembled from her entrails, as again 
In pangs; and Nature gave a second groan; 
Sky loured; and, muttering thunder, some sad drops 
Wept at completing of the mortal sin 
Original: while Adam took no thought, 
Eating his fill; nor Eve to iterate 
Her former trespass feared, the more to sooth 
Him with her loved society; that now, 
As with new wine intoxicated both, 
They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel 
Divinity within them breeding wings, 
Wherewith to scorn the earth: But that false fruit 
Far other operation first displayed, 
Carnal desire inflaming; he on Eve 
Began to cast lascivious eyes; she him 
As wantonly repaid; in lust they burn: 
Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move. 
Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste, 
And elegant, of sapience no small part; 
Since to each meaning savour we apply, 
And palate call judicious; I the praise 
Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purveyed. 
Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstained 
From this delightful fruit, nor known till now 
True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be 
In things to us forbidden, it might be wished, 
For this one tree had been forbidden ten. 
But come, so well refreshed, now let us play, 
As meet is, after such delicious fare; 
For never did thy beauty, since the day 
I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorned 
With all perfections, so inflame my sense 
With ardour to enjoy thee, fairer now 
Than ever; bounty of this virtuous tree! 
So said he, and forbore not glance or toy 
Of amorous intent; well understood 
Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire. 
Her hand he seised; and to a shady bank, 
Thick over-head with verdant roof imbowered, 
He led her nothing loth; flowers were the couch, 
Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, 
And hyacinth; Earth's freshest softest lap. 
There they their fill of love and love's disport 
Took largely, of their mutual guilt the seal, 
The solace of their sin; till dewy sleep 
Oppressed them, wearied with their amorous play, 
Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit, 
That with exhilarating vapour bland 
About their spirits had played, and inmost powers 
Made err, was now exhaled; and grosser sleep, 
Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 
Incumbered, now had left them; up they rose 
As from unrest; and, each the other viewing, 
Soon found their eyes how opened, and their minds 
How darkened; innocence, that as a veil 
Had shadowed them from knowing ill, was gone; 
Just confidence, and native righteousness, 
And honour, from about them, naked left 
To guilty Shame; he covered, but his robe 
Uncovered more. So rose the Danite strong, 
Herculean Samson, from the harlot-lap 
Of Philistean Dalilah, and waked 
Shorn of his strength. They destitute and bare 
Of all their virtue: Silent, and in face 
Confounded, long they sat, as strucken mute: 
Till Adam, though not less than Eve abashed, 
At length gave utterance to these words constrained. 
O Eve, in evil hour thou didst give ear 
To that false worm, of whomsoever taught 
To counterfeit Man's voice; true in our fall, 
False in our promised rising; since our eyes 
Opened we find indeed, and find we know 
Both good and evil; good lost, and evil got; 
Bad fruit of knowledge, if this be to know; 
Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void, 
Of innocence, of faith, of purity, 
Our wonted ornaments now soiled and stained, 
And in our faces evident the signs 
Of foul concupiscence; whence evil store; 
Even shame, the last of evils; of the first 
Be sure then.--How shall I behold the face 
Henceforth of God or Angel, erst with joy 
And rapture so oft beheld? Those heavenly shapes 
Will dazzle now this earthly with their blaze 
Insufferably bright. O! might I here 
In solitude live savage; in some glade 
Obscured, where highest woods, impenetrable 
To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad 
And brown as evening: Cover me, ye Pines! 
Ye Cedars, with innumerable boughs 
Hide me, where I may never see them more!-- 
But let us now, as in bad plight, devise 
What best may for the present serve to hide 
The parts of each from other, that seem most 
To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen; 
Some tree, whose broad smooth leaves together sewed, 
And girded on our loins, may cover round 
Those middle parts; that this new comer, Shame, 
There sit not, and reproach us as unclean. 
So counselled he, and both together went 
Into the thickest wood; there soon they chose 
The fig-tree; not that kind for fruit renowned, 
But such as at this day, to Indians known, 
In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms 
Branching so broad and long, that in the ground 
The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 
About the mother tree, a pillared shade 
High over-arched, and echoing walks between: 
There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat, 
Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds 
At loop-holes cut through thickest shade: Those leaves 
They gathered, broad as Amazonian targe; 
And, with what skill they had, together sewed, 
To gird their waist; vain covering, if to hide 
Their guilt and dreaded shame! O, how unlike 
To that first naked glory! Such of late 
Columbus found the American, so girt 
With feathered cincture; naked else, and wild 
Among the trees on isles and woody shores. 
Thus fenced, and, as they thought, their shame in part 
Covered, but not at rest or ease of mind, 
They sat them down to weep; nor only tears 
Rained at their eyes, but high winds worse within 
Began to rise, high passions, anger, hate, 
Mistrust, suspicion, discord; and shook sore 
Their inward state of mind, calm region once 
And full of peace, now tost and turbulent: 
For Understanding ruled not, and the Will 
Heard not her lore; both in subjection now 
To sensual Appetite, who from beneath 
Usurping over sovran Reason claimed 
Superiour sway: From thus distempered breast, 
Adam, estranged in look and altered style, 
Speech intermitted thus to Eve renewed. 
Would thou hadst hearkened to my words, and staid 
With me, as I besought thee, when that strange 
Desire of wandering, this unhappy morn, 
I know not whence possessed thee; we had then 
Remained still happy; not, as now, despoiled 
Of all our good; shamed, naked, miserable! 
Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve 
The faith they owe; when earnestly they seek 
Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail. 
To whom, soon moved with touch of blame, thus Eve. 
What words have passed thy lips, Adam severe! 
Imputest thou that to my default, or will 
Of wandering, as thou callest it, which who knows 
But might as ill have happened thou being by, 
Or to thyself perhaps? Hadst thou been there, 
Or here the attempt, thou couldst not have discerned 
Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake; 
No ground of enmity between us known, 
Why he should mean me ill, or seek to harm. 
Was I to have never parted from thy side? 
As good have grown there still a lifeless rib. 
Being as I am, why didst not thou, the head, 
Command me absolutely not to go, 
Going into such danger, as thou saidst? 
Too facile then, thou didst not much gainsay; 
Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss. 
Hadst thou been firm and fixed in thy dissent, 
Neither had I transgressed, nor thou with me. 
To whom, then first incensed, Adam replied. 
Is this the love, is this the recompence 
Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve! expressed 
Immutable, when thou wert lost, not I; 
Who might have lived, and joyed immortal bliss, 
Yet willingly chose rather death with thee? 
And am I now upbraided as the cause 
Of thy transgressing? Not enough severe, 
It seems, in thy restraint: What could I more 
I warned thee, I admonished thee, foretold 
The danger, and the lurking enemy 
That lay in wait; beyond this, had been force; 
And force upon free will hath here no place. 
But confidence then bore thee on; secure 
Either to meet no danger, or to find 
Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps 
I also erred, in overmuch admiring 
What seemed in thee so perfect, that I thought 
No evil durst attempt thee; but I rue 
The errour now, which is become my crime, 
And thou the accuser. Thus it shall befall 
Him, who, to worth in women overtrusting, 
Lets her will rule: restraint she will not brook; 
And, left to herself, if evil thence ensue, 
She first his weak indulgence will accuse. 
Thus they in mutual accusation spent 
The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning; 
And of their vain contest appeared no end.