On which the Sun more glad impress'd his beamsThen in fair Evening Cloud, or humid Bow,When God hath showrd the earth; so lovely seemdThat Lantskip: And of pure now purer aireMeets his approach, and to the heart inspiresVernal delight and joy, able to driveAll sadness but despair: now gentle galesFanning thir odoriferous wings dispenseNative perfumes, and whisper whence they stoleThose balmie spoiles. As when to them who saile
[160]
Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are pastMozambic, off at Sea North-East windes blowSabean Odours from the spicie shoareOf Arabie the blest, with such delayWell pleas'd they slack thir course, and many a LeagueCheard with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles.So entertaind those odorous sweets the FiendWho came thir bane, though with them better pleas'dThen Asmodeus with the fishie fume,That drove him, though enamourd, from the Spouse
[170]
Of Tobits Son, and with a vengeance sentFrom Demia post to Ægypt, there fast bound.Now to th' ascent of that steep savage HillSatan had journied on, pensive and slow;But further way found none, so thick entwin'd,As one continu'd brake, the undergrowthOf shrubs and tangling bushes had perplextAll path of Man or Beast that past that way:One Gate there onely was, and that look'd EastOn th' other side: which when th' arch-fellon saw
[180]
Due entrance he disdaind, and in contempt,At one slight bound high overleap'd all boundOf Hill or highest Wall, and sheer withinLights on his feet. As when a prowling Wolfe,Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey,Watching where Shepherds pen thir Flocks at eeveIn hurdl'd Cotes amid the field secure,Leaps o're the fence with ease into the Fould:Or as a Thief bent to unhoord the cashOf some rich Burgher, whose substantial dores,
[190]
Cross-barrd and bolted fast, fear no assault,In at the window climbes, or o're the tiles;So clomb this first grand Thief into Gods Fould:So since into his Church lewd Hirelings climbe.Thence up he flew, and on the Tree of Life,The middle Tree and highest there that grew,Sat like a Cormorant; yet not true LifeThereby regaind, but sat devising DeathTo them who liv'd; nor on the vertue thoughtOf that life-giving Plant, but only us'd
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For prospect, what well us'd had bin the pledgeOf immortalitie. So little knowsAny, but God alone, to value rightThe good before him, but perverts best thingsTo worst abuse, or to thir meanest use.Beneath him with new wonder now he viewsTo all delight of human sense expos'dIn narrow room Natures whole wealth, yea more,A Heaven on Earth, for blissful ParadiseOf God the Garden was, by him in the East
[210]
Of Eden planted; Eden stretchd her LineFrom Auran Eastward to the Royal TowrsOf great Seleucia, built by Grecian Kings,Or where the Sons of Eden long beforeDwelt in Telassar: in this pleasant soile