Delos or Samos first appeering kennsA cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flightHe speeds, and through the vast Ethereal SkieSailes between worlds & worlds, with steddie wingNow on the polar windes, then with quick Fann
[270]
Winnows the buxom Air; till within soareOf Towring Eagles, to all the Fowles he seemsA Phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole BirdWhen to enshrine his reliques in the Sun'sBright Temple, to Ægyptian Theb's he flies.At once on th' Eastern cliff of ParadiseHe lights, and to his proper shape returnsA Seraph wingd; six wings he wore, to shadeHis lineaments Divine; the pair that cladEach shoulder broad, came mantling o're his brest
[280]
With regal Ornament; the middle pairGirt like a Starrie Zone his waste, and roundSkirted his loines and thighes with downie GoldAnd colours dipt in Heav'n; the third his feetShaddowd from either heele with featherd maileSkie-tinctur'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood,And shook his Plumes, that Heav'nly fragrance filldThe circuit wide. Strait knew him all the bandsOf Angels under watch; and to his state,And to his message high in honour rise;
[290]
For on som message high they guessd him bound.Thir glittering Tents he passd, and now is comeInto the blissful field, through Groves of Myrrhe,And flouring Odours, Cassia, Nard, and Balme;A Wilderness of sweets; for Nature hereWantond as in her prime, and plaid at willHer Virgin Fancies, pouring forth more sweet,Wilde above rule or art; enormous bliss.Him through the spicie Forrest onward comAdam discernd, as in the dore he sat
[300]
Of his coole Bowre, while now the mounted SunShot down direct his fervid Raies, to warmeEarths inmost womb, more warmth then Adam need;And Eve within, due at her hour prepar'dFor dinner savourie fruits, of taste to pleaseTrue appetite, and not disrelish thirstOf nectarous draughts between, from milkie stream,Berrie or Grape: to whom thus Adam call'd.Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight beholdEastward among those Trees, what glorious shape
[310]
Comes this way moving; seems another MornRis'n on mid-noon; som great behest from Heav'nTo us perhaps he brings, and will voutsafeThis day to be our Guest. But goe with speed,And what thy stores contain, bring forth and poureAbundance, fit to honour and receiveOur Heav'nly stranger; well we may affordOur givers thir own gifts, and large bestowFrom large bestowd, where Nature multipliesHer fertil growth, and by disburd'ning grows
[320]
More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare.To whom thus Eve. Adam, earths hallowd mould,Of God inspir'd, small store will serve, where store,All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk;Save what by frugal storing firmness gainsTo nourish, and superfluous moist consumes:But I will haste and from each bough and break,Each Plant & juciest Gourd will pluck such choiceTo entertain our Angel guest, as heeBeholding shall confess that here on Earth