Paradise Lost

This said he paus'd not, but with ventrous Arme 
He pluckt, he tasted; mee damp horror chil'd 
At 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 
For Gods, yet able to make Gods of Men: 
And why not Gods of Men, since good, the more 
Communicated, 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: 
Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods 
Thy self a Goddess, not to Earth confind, 
But somtimes in the Air, as wee, somtimes 
Ascend to Heav'n, by merit thine, and see 
What life the Gods live there, and such live thou. 
So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, 
Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part 
Which he had pluckt; the pleasant savourie smell 
So quick'nd appetite, that I, methought, 
Could not but taste.  Forthwith up to the Clouds 
With him I flew, and underneath beheld 
The Earth outstretcht immense, a prospect wide 
And various: wondring at my flight and change 
To this high exaltation; suddenly 
My Guide was gon, and I, me thought, sunk down, 
And fell asleep; but O how glad I wak'd 
To find this but a dream!  Thus EVE her Night 
Related, and thus ADAM answerd sad. 
  Best Image of my self and dearer half, 
The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep 
Affects me equally; nor can I like 
This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear; 
Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none, 
Created pure.  But know that in the Soule 
Are many lesser Faculties that serve 
Reason as chief; among these Fansie next 
Her office holds; of all external things, 
Which the five watchful Senses represent, 
She forms Imaginations, Aerie shapes, 
Which Reason joyning or disjoyning, frames 
All what we affirm or what deny, and call 
Our knowledge or opinion; then retires 
Into her private Cell when Nature rests. 
Oft in her absence mimic Fansie wakes 
To imitate her; but misjoyning shapes, 
Wilde work produces oft, and most in dreams, 
Ill matching words and deeds long past or late. 
Som such resemblances methinks I find 
Of our last Eevnings talk, in this thy dream, 
But with addition strange; yet be not sad. 
Evil into the mind of God or Man 
May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave 
No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope 
That what in sleep thou didst abhorr to dream, 
Waking thou never wilt consent to do. 
Be not disheart'nd then, nor cloud those looks 
That wont to be more chearful and serene 
Then when fair Morning first smiles on the World, 
And let us to our fresh imployments rise 
Among the Groves, the Fountains, and the Flours 
That open now thir choicest bosom'd smells 
Reservd from night, and kept for thee in store. 
  So cheard he his fair Spouse, and she was cheard, 
But silently a gentle tear let fall 
From either eye, and wip'd them with her haire; 
Two other precious drops that ready stood, 
Each in thir chrystal sluce, hee ere they fell 
Kiss'd as the gracious signs of sweet remorse 
And pious awe, that feard to have offended. 
  So all was cleard, and to the Field they haste. 
But first from under shadie arborous roof, 
Soon as they forth were come to open sight 
Of day-spring, and the Sun, who scarce up risen 
With wheels yet hov'ring o're the Ocean brim, 
Shot paralel to the earth his dewie ray, 
Discovering in wide Lantskip all the East 
Of Paradise and EDENS happie Plains, 
Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began 
Thir Orisons, each Morning duly paid 
In various style, for neither various style 
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 
Thir Maker, in fit strains pronounc't or sung 
Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence 
Flowd from thir lips, in Prose or numerous Verse, 
More tuneable then needed Lute or Harp 
To add more sweetness, and they thus began. 
  These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, 
Almightie, thine this universal Frame, 
Thus wondrous fair; thy self how wondrous then! 
Unspeakable, who sitst above these Heavens 
To us invisible or dimly seen 
In these thy lowest works, yet these declare 
Thy goodness beyond thought, and Power Divine: 
Speak yee who best can tell, ye Sons of light, 
Angels, for yee behold him, and with songs 
And choral symphonies, Day without Night, 
Circle his Throne rejoycing, yee in Heav'n,