Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years; This to attain, whether heaven move or earth, Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest From man or angel the great Architect Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge His secreis to be scann'd by them who ought Rather admire; or if they list to try Conjecture, be his fabric of the heavens Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move His laughter at their quaint opinions wide Hereafter; when they come to model heaven And calculate the stars, how they will wield The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive To save appearances, how gird the sphere With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er, Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb. Already by thy reasoning this I guess, Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest
That bodies bright and greater should not serve The less not bright, nor heaven such journeys run, Earth sitting still, when she alone receives The benefit. Consider first, that great Or bright infers not excellence: the earth Though, in comparison of heaven, so small, Nor glist'ring, may of solid good contaĹin More plenty than the sun that barren shines, Whose virtue on itself works no effect, But in the fruitful earth; there, first receiv'd, His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries Officious, but to thec, earth’s habitant. And for the heaven's wide circuit, let it speak The Maker's high magnificence, who built So spacious, and his line stretch'd out so far: That man may know he dwells not in his own; An edifice too large for him to fill, Lodgid in a small partition, and the rest Ordain'd for uses to bis Lord best known, The swiftness of those circles attribute, Though numberless, to his omnipotence
! That to corporeal substances could add
Speed almost spiritual. Me thou think'st not slow, Who since the morning hour set out from heaven Where God resides, and ere mid-day arriv'd In Eden; distance inexpressible B: numbers that have name. But this I urge, Admitting motion in the heavens, to show Invalid that which thee to doubt it mov'd; Not that I so affirm, though so it seem To thee who hast thy dwelling here on earth. God to remove his ways from huiman sense, Plac'd heaven from earth so far, that earthly sight, If it presume, might err in things too high, And no advantage gain. What if the sun Be centre to the world, and other stars, By his attractive virtue and their own Incited, dance about him various rounds ? Their wand'ring course now high, now Inw, then hid,
Progressive, retrograde, or standing still, mi In six thou seest; and what if seventh to these * The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem,
Insensibly three different motious move ? Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, Mov'd contrary with thwart obliquities; Or save the sun lis labour, and that swift Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb suppos’d, Invisible else above all stars, the wheel Of day and night; which needs not thy belief, If earth, industrious of herself, fetch day Travelling east, and with her part averse From the sun's beam meet night, her other part Still luminous by his ray.
What if that light, Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, To the terrestrial moon be as a star Enlightning her day, as she by night This earth? reciprocal, if land be there, Fields and inhabitants. Her spots thou seest As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce Fruits in her soften’d soil, for some to eat Allotted there ; and other suns perhaps, With their attendant moons, thou wilt desery
Communicating male and female light. Which two great sexes animate the world, Stord in each orb perhaps with some that live; For such vast room in Nature unpossess'd By living soul, desert and desolate, Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far Don'n to this habitatle, which returns Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. But whither thus these things, or whether not; Whether the sun predominant in heaven Rise on the earth, or earth rise on the sun; He from the east his flaming road begin, Or she from west her silent course advance, With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps On her soft axle, while she paces even, And bears thee soft with the smooth air along; Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid, Leave them to God above, him serve and fear; Of other creatures, as bim pleases best, Wherever plac'd, let him dispose : joy thou In what he gives to thee, this Paradise And thy fair Eve; heaven is for thee too high To know what passes there; be lowly wise : Think only what concerns thee and thy being; Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there Live, in what state, condition, or degree: Contepted that thus far hath been revealid, Not of earth only, but of highest heaven."
To whom thus Adam, clear'd of doubt replied: “ How fully hast thou satisfied me, pure Intelligence of heaven, angel serene! And, freed from intricacies, taught to live The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts To interrupt the sweet of life, from which God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, And not molest us, unless we ourselves Seek them with wand'ring thoughts, and notions rain. But apt the mind or fancy is to rove Uncheck’d, and of her roving is no end; Till warn’d, or by experience taught, she learn,
That not to know at large of things remote, From use obscure and subtle, but to know That which before us lies in daily life, Ís the prime wisdom ; what is more, is fume, Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, And renders us in things that most concern Unpractis'd, unprepard, and still to seek. Therefore from this high pitch let us descend A"lower flight, and speak of things at hand Useful, whence haply mention may arise Of something not unseasonable to ask, By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign'd. Thee I have beard relating what was done Ere my remembrance; now hear me relate My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard; And day is yet not spent: till then thou seest How subtly to detain thee I devise, Inviting thee to hear while I relate, Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply: For while I sit with thee I seem in heaven, And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear Than fruits of palm-tree, pleasantest to thirst And hunger both, from labour, at the hour Of sweet repast they satiate, and soon fill Though pleasant; but thy words, with grace divine Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety."
To whom thus Raphael answer'd heavenly meek. “ Nor are thy lips ungraceful, sire of men! Nor tongue uneloquent; for God on thee Abundantly his gists hath also pour’d, Inward and outward both, his image fair : Speaking or mute, all comeliness and grace Altends thee, and each word each motion forms; Nor less think we in heaven of thee on earth Than of our fellow-servant, and inquire Gladly into the ways of God with mañ; For God we see hath honour'd thee, and set On man his equal love : say therefore on, For I that day was absent,' as befell, Bound on a voyage uņcouth and obscure, Far on excursion toward the gates of hell;
P
Squar'd in full legion (such command we had) To see that none thence issued forth a spy, Or enemy, while God was in his work, Lest he, incens'd at such eruption bold, Destruction with creation might have mix'd. Not that they durst without his leave attempt, But us he sends upon his high bebests For state, as Sov’reign King, and to inure Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut The dismal gates, and barricado'd strong ; But, loug ere our approaching, heard within Noise, other than the sound of dance or song, Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. Glad we return’d up to the coasts of light Ere sabbath evening: so we had in charge. But thy relation now.; for I attend, Pleas'd with thy words, no less than thou with mine.
So spake the godlike power, and thus our sire:
For man to tell how human life began Is hard; for who himself beginning knew? Desire with thee still longer to converse Induc'd me. As new wak'd from soundest sleep Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed. Straight toward heaven my wond'ring eyes I turnd, And gaz'd awhile the ample sky; till rais’d By quick instinctive motion up I sprung, As thitherward endeavouring, and upright Stood on my feet: about me round I saw Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, And liquid lapse of murm’ring streams; by these, Creatures that liv'd and mor'd, and walk’d, or flew; Birds on the branches warbling; all things smild; With fragrance, and with joy my heart o'erflow'd. Myself I then perus’d, and limb by limb Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran With supple joints, as lively vigour led, But who I was, or where, or from what cause, Knew not : to speak I tried, and forth with spake : My tongue obey'd, and readily could name
« IndietroContinua » |