Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial LoveHung over her enamour'd, and beheldBeautie, which whether waking or asleep,Shot forth peculiar Graces; then with voiceMilde, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,Her hand soft touching, whisperd thus. AwakeMy fairest, my espous'd, my latest found,Heav'ns last best gift, my ever new delight,
[20]
Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh fieldCalls us, we lose the prime, to mark how springOur tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,What drops the Myrrhe, & what the balmie Reed,How Nature paints her colours, how the BeeSits on the Bloom extracting liquid sweet.Such whispering wak'd her, but with startl'd eyeOn Adam, whom imbracing, thus she spake.O Sole in whom my thoughts find all repose,My Glorie, my Perfection, glad I see
[30]
Thy face, and Morn return'd, for I this Night,Such night till this I never pass'd, have dream'd,If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee,Works of day pass't, or morrows next designe,But of offence and trouble, which my mindKnew never till this irksom night; methoughtClose at mine ear one call'd me forth to walkWith gentle voice, I thought it thine; it said,Why sleepst thou Eve? now is the pleasant time,The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
[40]
To the night-warbling Bird, that now awakeTunes sweetest his love-labor'd song; now reignesFull Orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing lightShadowie sets off the face of things; in vain,If none regard; Heav'n wakes with all his eyes,Whom to behold but thee, Natures desire,In whose sight all things joy, with ravishmentAttracted by thy beauty still to gaze.I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;To find thee I directed then my walk;
[50]
And on, methought, alone I pass'd through waysThat brought me on a sudden to the TreeOf interdicted Knowledge: fair it seem'd,Much fairer to my Fancie then by day:And as I wondring lookt, beside it stoodOne shap'd & wing'd like one of those from Heav'nBy us oft seen; his dewie locks distill'dAmbrosia; on that Tree he also gaz'd;And O fair Plant, said he, with fruit surcharg'd,Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet,
[60]
Nor God, nor Man; is Knowledge so despis'd?Or envie, or what reserve forbids to taste?Forbid who will, none shall from me withholdLonger thy offerd good, why else set here?This said he paus'd not, but with ventrous ArmeHe pluckt, he tasted; mee damp horror chil'dAt such bold words voucht with a deed so bold:But he thus overjoy'd, O Fruit Divine,Sweet of thy self, but much more sweet thus cropt,Forbidd'n here, it seems, as onely fit
[70]
For Gods, yet able to make Gods of Men:And why not Gods of Men, since good, the moreCommunicated, more abundant growes,The Author not impair'd, but honourd more?Here, happie Creature, fair Angelic Eve,Partake thou also; happie though thou art,Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst not be: