as form'd, but in the womb as yet on immature involved,
- all the face of earth
ot idle; but, with warm
ning all her globe, great mother to conceive,
n genial moisture; when God said, ather'd now, ye waters under heaven, Into one place, and let dry land appear. Immediately the mountains huge appear Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave Into the clouds: their tops ascend the sky : So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, Capacious bed of waters: thither they Hasted with glad precipitance, uproll'd, As drops on dust conglobing from the dry: Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct,
For haste; such flight the great command impress'd On the swift floods: as armies at the call Of trumpets (for of armies thou hast heard) Troop to their standard; so the watery throng, Wave rolling after wave, where way they found, If steep, with torrent rapture; if through plain, Soft ebbing: nor withstood them rock or hill; But they, or under ground, or circuit wide With serpent errour wandering, found their way, And on the washy ooze deep channels wore ; Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, All but within those banks, where rivers now Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. The dry land, carth"; and the great receptacle Of congregated waters, he call'd seas:
And saw that it was good; and said, Let the earth Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed, And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind, Whose seed is in herself upon the earth.
So Gen. i. 8. According to the Hebrews, there were three heavens.
air, wherein the clouds move, and the birds fly; the second is the starry heaven; and the third is the habitation of the angels and the seat of God's glory. Milton is speaking here of the first heaven, as he mentions the others in other places.-NEWTON.
Be gather'd now, ye waters.
See Gen. i. 9; and Psalm civ. 6, et seq.-NEWTON.
These are again the words of Genesis formed into verse, i. 10, 11. But when he comes to the descriptive part, he then opens a finer vein of poetry.-NEWTON.
He scarce had said, when the bare earth, till then Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorn'd,
Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad Her universal face with pleasant green;
Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flower'd *, Opening their various colours, and made gay Her bosom, smelling sweet: and these, scarce blown, Forth flourish'd thick the clustering vine, forth crept The swelling gourd, up stood the corny reed Embattled in her field, and the humble shrub, And bush with frizzled hair implicit last Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemm'd Their blossoms: with high woods the fields were crown'd, With tufts the valleys, and each fountain-side; With borders long the rivers: that earth now
Seem'd like to heaven, a seat where gods might dwell,
Or wander with delight, and love to haunt
Her sacred shades: though God had yet not rain'd Upon the earth, and man to till the ground None was; but from the earth a dewy mist Went up, and water'd all the ground, and each Plant of the field; which, ere it was in the earth, God made, and every herb, before it grew On the green stem: God saw that it was good: So even and morn recorded the third day.
Again the Almighty spake, Let there be lights High in the expanse of heaven, to divide The day from night; and let them be for signs, For seasons, and for days, and circling years; And let them be for lights, as I ordain Their office in the firmament of heaven,
To give light on the earth; and it was so.
And God made two great lights, great for their use To man, the greater to have rule by day,
The less by night, altern; and made the stars,
And set them in the firmament of heaven
To illuminate the earth, and rule the day In their vicissitude, and rule the night, And light from darkness to divide. God saw, Surveying his great work, that it was good; For of celestial bodies first the sun,
A mighty sphere, he framed, unlightsome first, Though of ethereal mould: then formed the moon Globose, and every magnitude of stars,
And sow'd with stars the heaven, thick as a field: Of light by far the greater part he took,
Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed In the sun's orb, made porous to receive And drink the liquid light; firm to retain Her gather'd beams, great palace now of light. Hither, as to their fountain, other stars Repairing, in their golden urns draw light, And hence the morning planet gilds her horns; By tincture or reflection they augment Their small peculiar, though from human sight So far remote, with diminution seen. First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, Regent of day, and all the horizon round
Invested with bright rays, jocund to run
His longitude through heaven's high road; the gray Dawn, and the Pleiades, before him danced, Shedding sweet influence: less bright the moon, But opposite in level'd west was set,
His mirrour, with full face borrowing her light From him; for other light she needed none In that aspect, and still that distance keeps Till night; then in the east her turn she shines, Revolved on heaven's great axle, and her reign With thousand lesser lights dividual holds, With thousand thousand stars, that then appear'd Spangling the hemisphere: then first adorn'd With their bright luminaries, that set and rose, Glad evening and glad morn crown'd the fourth day. And God said, Let the waters a generate Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul: And let fowl fly above the earth, with wings Display'd on the open firmament of heaven. And God created the great whales, and each Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously
The Pleiades, before him danced.
These are beautiful images, and very much resemble the famous picture of the Morning by Guido, where the sun is represented in his chariot, with Aurora flying before him, shedding flowers, and seven beautiful nymph-like figures, dancing before and about his chariot, which are commonly taken for the hours, but possibly may be the Pleiades, as they are seven in number, and it is not easy to assign a reason why the Hours should be signified by that number particularly. The picture is on a ceiling at Rome; but there are copies of it in England, and an excellent print by Jac. Frey. The Pleiades are seven stars in the neck of the constellation Taurus, which, rising about the time of the vernal equinox, are called by the Latins "Vergilia." Our poet therefore, in saying that the Pleiades danced before the sun at his creation, intimates very plainly that the creation was in the spring, according to the common opinion, Virg. Georg. ii. 338, &c.-NEWTON. Shedding sweet influence.
See Job xxxviii. 31:-" Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades ?"HUME.
And God said, Let the waters.
This, and eleven verses following, are almost word for word from Genesis, i. 20–22: poet afterwards branches out his general account of the fifth day's creation into the several particulars.-NEWTON.
The waters generated by their kinds :
And every bird of wing after his kind;
And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying, Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas,
And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill: And let the fowl be multiplied on the earth.
Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay, With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals Of fish that with their fins, and shining scales, Glide under the green wave, in sculls that oft Bank the mid sea: part single, or with mate, Graze the sea-weed their pasture, and through groves Of coral stray; or, sporting with quick glance, Show to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold; Or, in their pearly shells at ease, attend Moist nutriment; or under rocks their food In jointed armour watch: on smooth the seal And bended dolphins play: part huge of bulk, Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, Tempest the ocean: there leviathan, Hugest of living creatures, on the deep Stretch'd like a promontory, sleeps or swims, And seems a moving land; and at his gills Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea. Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shores, Their brood as numerous hatch, from the egg that soon Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclosed
Their callow young; but feather'd soon and fledge
They summ'd their pens; and, soaring the air sublime, With clang despised the ground, under a cloud In prospect; there the eagle and the stork On cliffs and cedar-tops their eyries build : Part loosely wing the region; part, more wise,
In common, ranged in figure, wedge their way, Intelligent of seasons, and set forth Their aery caravan, high over seas Flying, and over lands, with mutual wing Easing their flight; so steers the prudent crane Her annual voyage, borne on winds; the air Floats as they pass, fann'd with unnumber'd plumes: From branch to branch the smaller birds with song Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings Till even; nor then the solemn nightingale Sculls is undoubtedly shoals.
e The solemn nightingale.
Milton's fondness and admiration of the nightingale may be seen, as Newton has
Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays : Others, on silver lakes and rivers, bathed Their downy breast; the swan with arched neck, Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows Her state with oary feet; yet oft they quit The dank, and, rising on stiff pennons, tower The mid aereal sky: others on ground
Walk'd firm; the crested cock, whose clarion sounds The silent hours; and the other, whose gay train Adorns him, colour'd with the florid hue Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus With fish replenish'd, and the air with fowl, Evening and morn solemnized the fifth day. The sixth, and of creation last, arose With evening harps and matin; when God said, Let the earth bring forth soul living in her kind, Cattle, and creeping things, and beast of the earth, Each in their kind. The earth obey'd, and straight Opening her fertile womb, teem'd at a birth Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms, Limb'd and full grown out of the ground uprose, As from his lair, the wild beast, where he wons In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den; Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walk'd: The cattle in the fields and meadows green : Those rare and solitary, these in flocks Pasturing at once, and in broad herds upsprung. The grassy clods now calved; now half appear'd The tawny lion, pawing to get free
His hinder parts; then springs, as broke from bonds, And rampant shakes his brinded mane: the ounce, The libbard, and the tiger, as the mole
Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw In hillocks the swift stag from under ground Bore up his branching head: scarce from his mould, Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved His vastness: fleeced the flocks and bleating rose, As plants; ambiguous between sea and land The river-horse, and scaly crocodile. At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, Insect or worm: those waved their limber fans For wings, and smallest lineaments exact In all the liveries deck'd of summer's pride, With spots of gold and purple, azure and green: These as a line their long dimension drew,
Streaking the ground with sinuous trace; not all
remarked, in Il Penseroso,' in his first sonnet, and again in Paradise Lost,' b. iii. 38; b. iv. 648, 771; b. v. 40; b. viii. 518.-TODD.
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