Adam. O thou my sweetest life.

Guliar. Perchance thy bitter death!

Eve.Take gentle Adam from my hand these flow'rs, With these my gift, let me entwine thy locks. Adam. Ye lilies, and ye shrubs of snowy hue, Jasmin as ivory pure,

Ye spotless graces of the shining field,
And thou most lovely rose

Of tint most delicate,

Fair consort of the morn,

Delighted to imbibe

The genial dew of Heav'n,

Rich vegetations vermil-tinctur'd gem,
April's enchanting herald,
Thou flow'r supremely blest,
And queen of all the flow'rs,
Thou form'st around my locks
A garland of such fragrance,
That up to Heav'n itself
Thy balmy sweets ascend.
Let us in pure embraces
So twine ourselves my love,

That we may seem united,

One well compact, and intricate Acanthus

Lurcone. Soon shall the fetters of infernal toil

So spread around ye both,

Th' indissoluble bond,

No mortal effort shall have pow'r to break!

Eve. Now, that with flow'rs so lovely

We have adorn'd our tresses,

Here let us both with humble reverence kneel,
And praise our mighty Maker.

From this my thirsting heart
No longer can refrain.

Adam. At thy engaging words,

And thy pure heart's desire

On these pure herbs, and flow'rs,

I bend my willing knee in hallow'd bliss.
Lurcone. Away! far off must I
From act so meekly just

Furious depart, and leave the light of day.
Guliar. I must partake thy flight,

And follow thee, alas, surcharg'd with grief.
Adam, Now that these herbs, and flow'rs, to our

bent knees,

Such easy rest afford,

Let us with zealous ardour raise our eyes,

Contemplating with praise our mighty Maker,
First then, devout and favour'd Eve, do thou
With sacred notes invite

To deeds so fair thy Adam.

Eve. My Lord Omnipotent,

In his celestial essence

Is first, supreme, unlimited, alone,

Eternal, uncompounded,

He no beginning had, no end will have!

Adam. My sovereign Lord, so great, Is irresistible, terrific, just,

Gracious, benign, indulgent,

Divine, unspotted, holy, loving, good:

In justice most rever'd,

Antient of days, in his sublimest court!
Eve. He rests in highest Heaven,
Yet more exalted in his boundless self;
Thence his all-searching eye, looks down on all;
Nought is from him conceal'd

Since all exists in him:

Without him nothing could retain existence,

Nor is there aught, that he

For his perfection needs,
Except himself alone.

Adam. He every place pervades,

But is confin'd in none:

In him the limits of all grandeur lie,

But he exists unlimited by space.

Eve. Above the universe himself he rais'd,

Yet he behind it rests;

The whole he now encircles, now pervades,

Now dwells apart from all,

So great, the universe

To comprehend him fails.

Adam. If he to all enclines,

In his just balance all he justly weighs :

From him if all things flow,

All things in him acknowledge their support,
But he on nothing rests.

Eve. To time my great director is not subject, For time in him sees no vicissitude :

In awful and sublime eternity

One being stands for ever;

For ever stands one instant,

And hence this power assumes the name of God.

Adam. It is indeed a truth,

That my eternal mighty Lord is God.

This deity incomprehensible

That, ere the Heaven was made,

Dwelt only in himself, and heaven in him.
Eve let us joyous rise, in other scenes,
With admiration of celestial splendor,
And of this lovely world

With notes of hallow'd bliss

Let us again make the glad air resound.

Eve. Lead on, my faithful guide, Quick is my willing foot to follow thee, Since my fond soul believes

That I in praising heav'n to heav'n ascend,

So my pure bosom feels

Full of divine content.

Adam. To speak on every theme

Our mighty Maker made thee eloquent
So that in praising heav'n thou seemest there
My fair associate! Treasure of my life!

Upon the wings of this exalted praise
Devotion soars so high, that if her feet
Rest on the earth, her spirit reaches heaven.

SCENE THE THIRD.

The SERPENT, Satan, Spirits.

To arms, to battle, O ye sons of power!
Ye warring spirits of th' infernal field!
A new and wondrous war

Awaits you now, within the lists of earth;
Most strange indeed the mode

Of warring there, if triumph, wars great end,

Proves its beginning now.

Behold the sun himself turn pale with terror,

Behold the day obscur'd!

Behold each rapid bird directs his flight

Where thickest foliage spreads,

But shelter seeks in vain,

The leaves of every bough,

As with a palsy struck,

Affright him more, and urge his wings to flight.

I would not as a warrior take the field

Against the demi-goddess girt with angels,