The Second Week, First Day, Part I: Eden

THE ARGUMENT.

Our Poet, first, doth Gods assistance seek:
The Scope and Subiect of his Second Week.
Adam in Eden: Edens beauties rare;
A reall Place, not now discerned where:
The Tree of Life; and Knowledge-Tree with-all:
Knowledge of Man, before and since his Fall:
His exercise, and excellent Delights,
In's Innocence: of Dreams and Ghostly Sights:
Nice Questions curb'd: Death, Sins effect; whereby
Man (else Immortall) mortall now, must Dy.

GReat God, which hast this World's Birth made me see,
Vnfold his Cradle, shew his Infancy:
Walk thou, my Spirit, through all the flowring alleis
Of that sweet Garden, where through winding valleys
Foure liuely flouds crauld: tell mee what mis-deed
Banisht both Edens, Adam and his seed:
Tell who (immortall) mortalizing, brought-vs
The Balm frō Heav'n which hoped health hath wrought-vs:
Grant me the story of thy Church to sing,
And gests of Kings: Let me this Totall bring
From thy first Sabbaoth to his fatall toomb,
My stile extending to the Day of Doom.
Lord, I acknowledge and confess, before,
This Ocean hath no bottom, nor no shoar;
But (sacred Pilot) thou canst safely steer
My vent'rous Pinnasse to her wished Peer;
Where once arriv'd, all dropping wet I will
Extoll thy favors, and my vows fulfill.

And gratious Guide, which doost all grace infuse,
Since it hath pleas'd thee task my tardy Muse
With these high Theams, that through mine Art-les Pen
This holy Lamp may light my Country-men:
Ah, teach my hand, touch mine vnlearned lips;
Least, as the Earths grosse body doth Eclipse
Bright Cynthia's beams, when it is interpos'd
Twixt her and Phoebus: so mine ill-dispos'd,
Dark, gloomy Ignorance, obscure the rayes
Of this diuine Sun of these learned dayes.
O! furnish me with an vn-vulgar stile,
That I by this may we an our wanton ILE
From Ouids heirs, and their vn-hallowed spell
Heer charming senses, chayning soules in Hell.
Let this prouoke our modern Wits to sacre
Their wondrous gifts to honour thee, their Maker:
That our mysterious ELFINE Oracle,
Deep, morall, graue, Inuentions miracle;
My deer sweet DANIEL, sharp-conceipted, brief,
Ciuill, sententious, for pure accents chief:
And our new NASO, that so passionates
Th' heroike sighes of loue-sick Potentates:
May change their subiect, and aduance their wings
Vp to these higher and more holy things.
And if (sufficient rich in self-inuention)
They scorn (as I) to liue of Strangers Pension,
Let them deuise new Weeks, new works, new wayes
To celebrate the supreme Prince of praise.
And let not me (good Lord) be like the Lead
Which to som City from som Conduit-head
Brings holsom water, yet (self-wanting sense)
It self receiues no drop of comfort thence:
But rather, as the thorough-seasoned But
Wherein the tears of death-prest Grapes are put,
Retains (long after all the wine is spent)
Within it self the liquors liuely sent:
Let me still sauour of these sacred sweets
Till Death fold-vp mine earth in earthen sheets;
Least, my young layes, now prone to preach thy glory
To BRVTVS heyres, blush at mine elder Story.

GOD (Supreme Lord) committed not alone
Tour Father Adam, this inferiour Throne;
Ranging beneath his rule the scaly Nation
That in the Ocean haue their habitation:
Those that in horror of the Desarts lurk:
And those that capering in the Welk in work;
But also chose him for a happy Seat
A climate temperate both for cold and heat,
Which dainty Flora paveth sumptuously
With flowry VER'S inammeld tapistry;
Pomona pranks with fruits, whose taste excels;
And Zephyr fils with Musk and Amber smels:
Where God himself (as Gardner) treads the allies,
With Trees and Corn couers the hills and vallies,
Summons sweet sleep with noise of hundred Brooks,
And Sun-proof Arbours makes in sundry nooks:
He plants, he proins, he pares, he trimmeth round
Th' ever green beauties of a fruitfull ground;
Heer-there the course of th' holy Lakes he leads,
With thousand Dies hee motleys all the meads.

Ye Pagan Poëts, that audaciously
Haue sought to dark the ever-Memory
Of Gods great works; from henceforth still be dum
Your fabled prayses of Elysium,
Which by this goodly module you haue wrought,
Through deaf tradition, that your Fathers taught;
For, the Almighty made his blisfull Bowrs
Better indeed, then you haue fained yours.

For, should I say that still, with smiling face,
Th' all clasping Heav'ns beheld this happy place;
That honey sweet, from hollow rocks did drain;
That fostering milk flow'd vp and down the Plain;
That sweet as Roses smelt th' ill-savory Rew:
That in all soyls, all seasons, all things grew:
That still there dangled on the self-same treen
A thousand fruits, nor over-ripe, nor green:
That egrest fruits, and bitterest hearbs did mock
Madera Sugars, and the Apricock;
Yeelding more holesom food then all the messes,
That now taste-curious, wanton Plenty dresses,
Disguising (in a thousand costly dishes)
The various store of dainty Fowls and Fishes,
Which far and neer we seek by Land and Seas,
More to provoke then hunger to appease;

Or should I say, each morning, on the ground
Not common deaw, but Manna did abound:
That never guttur gorging durty muds,
Defil'd the crystall of smooth-sliding flouds,
Whose waters past, in pleasant taste, the drink
That now in Candia decks Cerathus brink:
That shady Groues of noble Palm-tree sprays,
Of amorous Myrtles, and immortall Bays
Never vn-leav'd; but evermore their new
Self-arching arms in thousand Arbours grew:
Where thousand sorts of birds, both night and day,
Did bill and woo, and hop about, and play;
And marrying their sweet tunes to th' Angels layes,
Sung Adams bliss and their great Makers prayse.
For then, the Crowes, night Rav'ns, and Howlets noise
Was like the Nightingals sweet-tuned voice;
And Nightingals sung like divine Arion,
Like Thracian Orpheus, Linus, and Amphion.

Th' Ayre's daughter Eccho, haunting woods among,
A blab that will not (cannot) keep her tongue,
Who never asks, but onely answers all,
Who lets not any her in vain to call;
She bore her part, and full of curious skill,
They ceasing sung, they singing ceased still:
There Musick raign'd and ever on the Plain,
A sweet sound rais'd the dead-liue voice again.

If there I say the Sun (the Seasons stinter)
Made no hot Sommer, nor no hoary Winter,
But louely VER kept still in liuely lustre
The fragrant Valleys smiling Meads and Pasture:
That boistrous Adams body did not shrink
For Northren windes, nor for the Southren wink:
But Zephyr did sweet musky sighes afford,
Which breathing through the Garden of the Lord,
Gaue bodies vigour, verdure to the field,
That verdure flowrs, those flowrs sweet savor yeeld:
That Day did gladly lend his sister, Night,
For half her moisture, half his shining Light:
That never hail did Harvest preiudice,
That never frost, nor snowe, nor slipperyice
The fields en-ag'd: nor any stormy stowr
Dismounted Mountains, nor no violent showr
Poverisht the Land, which frankly did produce
All fruitfull vapours for delight and vse:
I think I ly not, rather I confess
My stammering Muses poor vnlearnednes.
If in two words thou wilt her praise comprise,
Say't was the type of th' vpper Paradise;
Where Adam had (O wondrous strange!) discourse
With God himself, with Angels intercourse.

Yet (over-curious) question not the site,
Where God did plant this Garden of delight:
Whether beneath the Equinoctiall line,
Or on a Mountain neer Latona's shine,
Nigh Babylon, or in the radiant East.
Humble content thee that thou know'st (at least)
That, that rare, plentious, pleasant, happy thing
Whereof th' Almighty made our Grand-sire King,
Was a choise soil, through which did rowling slide
Swift Ghion Pishon, and rich Tygris tyde,
And that fair stream whose silver waues doe kiss
The Monarch Towrs of proud Semiramis.

Now, if that (roaming round about the earth)
Thou finde no place that answers now in worth
This beautious place, nor Country that can showe
Where now-adayes those noted flouds doe flowe:
Include not all within this Close confin'd,
That labouring Neptunes liquid Belt doth binde.
A certain place it was (now sought in vain)
Where set by grace, for sin remov'd again,
Our Elders were: whereof the thunder-darter
Made a bright Sword the gate, an Angell Porter.

Nor think that Moses paints fantastik-wise
A mystike tale of fained Paradise:
('T was a true Garden, happy Plenties horn,
And seat of graces) least thou make (forlorn)
An Ideall Adams food fantasticall,
His sin suppos'd, his pain Poeticall:
Such Allegories serue for shelter fit
To curious Idiots of erroneous wit,
And chiefly then, when reading Histories,
Seeking the spirit, they doe the body leese.

But if thou list to ghesse by likelihood,
Think that the wreakfull nature-drowning flood
Spar'd not this beautious place, which formost saw
The first foul breach of Gods eternall law:
Think that the most part of the plants it pull'd,
And of the sweetest flowrs the spirits dull'd,
Spoild the fair Gardens, made the fat fields lean,
And chang'd (perchance) the rivers channell clean:
And think, that Time (whose slippery wheel doth play
In humane causes with in constant sway,
Who exiles, alters, and disguises words)
Hath now transform'd the names of all these Fordes.
For, as through sin we lost that place, I fear
(Forgetfull) we haue lost the knowledge where
'T was situate, and of the sugred dainties
Wherewith God fed vs in those sacred plenties.

Now of the Trees wherwith th' immortall Powr
Adorn'd the quarters of that blisfull Bowr,
All serv'd the mouth, saue two sustaind the minde:
All serv'd for food, saue two for seals assign'd.

God gaue the first, for honorable stile,
The tree of Life: true name; (alas the while!)
Not for th' effect it had, but should haue kept,
If Man from duty never had mis-stept.
For, as the ayr of those fresh dales and hills
Preserved him from Epidemik ills,
This fruit had ever-calm'd all insurrections,
All civill quarrels of the cross complexions;
Had barr'd the passage of twice childish age,
And ever-more excluded all the rage
Of painfull griefs, whose swift-slowe posting-pase
At first or last our dying life doth chase.

Strong counter-bane! O sacred Plant divine!
What metall, stone. stalk, fruit, flowr, root, or ryne,
Shall I presume in these rude rymes to sute
Vnto thy wondrous World-adorning Fruit?
The rarest Simples that our fields present-vs
Heal but one hurt, and healing too torments vs:
And with the torment, lingring our relief
Our bags of gold void, yer our bulks of grief.
But thy rare fruits hid powr admired most,
Salveth all sores, sans pain, delay, or cost:
Or rather, man from yawning Death to stay,
Thou didst not cure, but keep all ills away.

O holy, peer-less, rich preseruatiue!
Whether wert thou the strange restoratiue
That suddainly did age with youth repair,
And made old Aeson yonger then his heir?
Or holy Nectar, that in heav'nly bowrs,
Eternally self-pouring Hebé pours?
Or blest Ambrosia (Gods immortall fare)?
Or els the rich fruit of the Garden rare,
Where, for three Ladies (as assured guard)
A fire-arm'd Dragon day and night did ward?
Or pretious Moly, which Ioues Pursuiuan
Wing-footed Hermes brought to th' Ithacan?
Or else Nepenthé, enemy to sadnes,
Repelling sorrows, and repealing gladnes?
Or Mummie? or Elixir) that excels
Save men and Angels every creature els)?
No, none of these: these are but forgeries,
But toyes, but tales, but dreams, deceipts, and lies:
But thou art true, although our shallow sense
May honour more, then sound, thine Excellence.

The Tree of Knowledge, th' other Tree behight:
Not, that itselfly had such speciall might,
As mens dull wits could whet and sharpen so
That in a moment they might all things knowe.
'T was a sure pledge, a sacred signe, and seal;
Which, being ta'n, should to light man reveal
What ods there is, between still peace, and strife;
Gods wrath, and loue; drad death, and deerest life.
Solace, and sorrow; guile, and innocence;
Rebellious pride, and humble obedience.

For, God had not depriv'd that primer season
The sacred lamp and light of learned Reason:
Mankinde was then a thousand fold more wise
Then now: blinde Error •ad not bleard his eys,
With mists which make th' Athenian Sage suppose
That nought hee knowes, saue this, that nought hee knowes.
That euen light Pir••o•s wavering fantasies
Reave him the skill his vn skill to agnize.
And th' Abderite, within a Well obscure,
As deep as dark, the Truth of things immure.

Hee (happy) knew the Good by th' vse of it:
He knew the Bad, but not by proof as yet:
But as they say of great Hyppocrates,
Who (though his limbs were numm'd with no excess,
Nor stop this throat, nor vext his fantasie)
Knew the cold Cramp, th' Angine, and Lunacy,
And hundred els-pains, whence in lusty flowr
He liv'd exempt, a hundred yeers and foure.
Or like the pure Heav'n-prompted Prophets rather,
Whose sight so cleerly future things did gather,
Because the World's Soule in their soule enseal'd
The holy stamp of secrets most conceal'd.

But our now-knowledge hath, for tedious train,
A drooping life, and over-racked brain,
A face forlorn, a sad and sullen fashion.
A rest-less toyl, and Cares self-pining passion.
Knowledge was then even the soules soule for light,
The spirits calme Port, and Lanthorn shining bright
To straight steptfeet cleer knowledge; not confus'd:
Not sowr, but sweet: not gotten, but infus'd.

Now Heav'ns eternall all-fore-seeing King,
Who never rashly ordereth anything,
Thought good, that man (having yet spirits sound-stated)
Should dwell els-where then where he was created;
That he might knowe, he did not hold this place
By Natures right, but by meer gift and Grace;
That he should never taste fruits vn-permitted,
But keep the sacred Pledge to him committed,
And dress that Park, which God, without all tearm,
On these conditions gaue him, as in farm.

God would, that (void of painfull labour) he
Should liue in Eden; but not idlely:
For, Idlenes pure Innocence subuerts,
Defiles our body, and our soule peruerts:
Yea, soberest men it makes delicious,
To vertue dull, to vice in genious.
But that first travell had no sympathy
With our since-travails wretched cruelty,
Distilling sweat, and panting wanting winde,
Which was a scourge for Adams sin assign'd.

For, Edens earth was then so fertile fat,
That he made onely sweet Essayes, in that,
Of skilfull industry, and naked wrought
More for delight, then for the gain he sought.
In brief, it was a pleasant exercise,
A labour lik't, a pain much like the guise
Of cunning dauncers; who. although they skip,
Run, caper, vault, traverse, and turn, and trip,
From Morn till Even, at night again full merry,
Renue their daunce, of dauncing never weary.
Or else of Hunters, that with happy luck
Rousing betimes som often breathed Buck,
Or goodly Stagge, their yelping Hounds vncouple,
Winde lowd their horns, their whoops, & hallows double
Spur-on and spare not, following their desire,
Themselues vn-weary, though their Hackneis tyre.

But, for in th' end of all their iolity,
Ther's found much stifness, sweat and vanity;
I rather match it to the pleasing pain
Of Angels pure, who ever sloath disdain:
Or to the Suns calm course, who pain-less ay
About the welkin posteth night and day.

Doubtless, when Adam saw our common ayr,
He did admire the mansion rich and fair
Of his Successors. For, frosts keenly cold
The shady locks of Forrests had not powl'd:
Heav'n had not thundred on our heads as yet,
Nor given the earth her sad Diuorces Writ.

But when he once had entred Paradise,
The remnant world he iustly did despise:
[Much like a Boor far in the Country born,
Who, never having seen but Kine and Corn,
Oxen, and Sheep, and homely Hamlets thatcht
(Which, fond, he counts as Kingdoms; hardly matcht)
When afterward he happens to behold
Our welthy London's wonders manifold,
The silly peasant thinks himself to b•
In a new World; and gazing greedily,
One while he Art-less, all the Arts admires,
Then the faire Temples, and their top-less spires,
Their firm foundations, and the massie pride
Of all their sacred ornaments beside:
Anon he wonders at the differing graces,
Tongues, gests, attires, the fashions and the faces,
Of busie-buzzing swarms, which still hee meets
Ebbing and flowing ouer all the streets;
Then at the signes, the shops, the waights, the measures,
The handy-crafts, the rumors, trades, and treasures.
But of all sights, none seems him yet more strange
Then the rare, beautious, stately, rich Exchange.
Another while he maruails at the Thames,
Which seems to bear huge mountains on her streams:
Then at the fa•-built Bridge; which he doth iudge
More like a tradefull City then a Bridge;
And glancing thence a-long the Northren shoar,
That princely prospect doth amaze him more.]

For in that Garden man delighted so,
That rapt he wist not if hee wak't or no;
If he beheld a true thing or a fable;
Or Earth, or Heav'n: all more then admirable.
For such excess his extasie was small;
Not hauing spirit enough to muse withall,
He wisht him bundred-fold redoubled senses,
The more to taste so rare sweet excellences;
Not knowing, whether nose, or ears, or eyes,
Smelt, heard, or saw, more sauors, sounds, or Dies.

But, Adams best and supreame delectation,
Was th' often haunt and holy conuersation
His soule and body had so many waies
With God, who lightned Eden with his Rays.
For spirits, by faith religiously refin'd,
'Twixt God and man retain a middle kinde:
And (Vmpires) mortall to th' immortall ioyn;
And th' infinit in narrow clay confine.

Som-times by you, O you all-faining Dreams,
We gain this good; but not when Bacchus steams
And glutton vapours ouer-flowe the Brain,
And drown our spirits, presenting fancies vain:
Nor when pale Phlegm, or Saffron-coloured Choler,
In feeble stomacks belch with diuers dolor,
And print vpon our Vnderstandings Tables;
That, Water-wracks; this other, flamefull fables:
Nor when the Spirit of lies our spirits deceiues,
And guile-full visions in our fancy leaues:
Nor when the pencil of Cares ouer-deep
Our day-bred thoughts depainteth in our sleep.
But when no more the soules chief faculties,
Are sperst to sereue the body many waies,
When all self-vned, free from dayes disturber,
Through such sweet Trance, she findes a quiet harbour;
Where som in riddles, som more plain exprest,
Shee sees things future, in th' Almighties brest.

And yet far higher is this holy Fit,
When (not from flesh) but from flesh-cares, acquit)
The wakefull soule it self assembling so,
All selfly dies; while that the body though
Liues motion-les: for, sanctified wholly,
It takes th' impression of Gods Signet Soly;
And in his sacred Crystall Map, doth see
Heav'ns Oracles, and Angels glorious glee:
Made more then spirit, Now, Morrow, Yesterday,
To it, all one, are all as present aye.
And though it seem not (when the dream's expir'd)
Like that it was; yet is it much admir'd
Of rarest men, and shines among them bright
Like glistring Starrs through gloomy shades of night.

But aboue all, that's the divinest Trance,
When the soules eye beholds Gods countenance;
When mouth to mouth familiarly he deales,
And in our face his drad-sweet face hee seales.
As when S. Paul, on his deer Masters wings,
Was rapt aliue vp to th' eternall things:
And he that whilom for the chosen flock,
Made walls of waters, waters of a rock.

O sacred flight! sweet rape! loues soueraign bliss!
Which very loves deer lips dost make vs kiss:
Hymen, of Manna, and of Mel compact,
Which for a time dost Heav'n with earth contract:
Fire, that in Limbeck of pure thoughts divine
Doost purge our thoughts, and our dull earth refine:
And mounting vs to Heav'n, vn-mouing hence,
Man (in a trice) in God doost quintessence:
O! mad'st thou man divine in habitude,
As for a space; O sweetest solitude,
Thy bliss were equall with that happie Rest
Which after death shall make vs ever-blest.

Now, I beleeve that in this later guise
Man did conuerse in Pleasant Paradise
With Heav'ns great Architect, and (happy) there
His body saw (or body as it were)
Gloriously compast with the blessed Legions
That raign above the azure-spangled Regions.

ADAM, quoth He, the beauties manyfold
That in this Eden thou doest heer behold,
Are all thine, onely: enter (sacred race)
Come, take possession of this wealthy place,
The Earth's sole glory: take (deer Sonn) to thee,
This farm's demains, leave the Chief right to me;
And th' only Rent that of it I reserue, is
One Trees fair fruit, to shew thy sute and seruice:
Be thou the Liege, and I Lord Paramount,
I'le not exact hard fines (as men shall woont).
For signe of Homage, and for seal of Faith,
Of all the profits this Possession hath,
I only ask one Tree; whose fruit I will
For Sacrament shall stand of Good and Ill.
Take all the rest, I bid thee: but I vow
By th' vn-nam'd name, where-to all knees doo bow,
And by the keen Darts of my kindled Ire
(More fiercely burning then consuming fire)
That of the Fruit of Knowledge if thou feed,
Death, dreadfull Death shall plague Thee and thy Seed.
If then, the happie state thou hold'st of me,
My holy mildnes, nor high Maiesty,
If faith nor Honour curb thy bold ambition,
Yet weigh thy self, and thy owne Seeds condition.

Most mighty Lord (quoth Adam) heer I tender
All thanks I can, not all I should thee render,
For all thy liberall fauours, far surmounting
My hearts conceit, much more my tongues recounting.
At thy command, I would with boyst'rous shock
Goe run my self against the hardest rock:
Or cast me head long from som Mountain steep,
Down to the whirling bottom of the Deep:
Yea, at thy beck, I would not spare the life
Of my deer Phoenix, sister-daughter-wife:
Obaying thee, I finde the things impossible,
Cruell, and painfull; pleasant, kinde, and possible.

But since thy first Law doth more grace afford
Vnto the Subiect, than the souerain Lord:
Since (bountious Prince) on me and my Descent,
Thou doost impose no other tax, nor Rent,
But one sole Precept, of most iust condition
(No Precept neither, but a Prohibition);
And since (good God) of all the Fruits in EDEN
There's but one Apple that I am forbidden,
Euen only that which bitter Death doth threat,
(Better, perhaps, to look on then to eate)
I honour in my soule, and humbly kiss
Thy iust Edict (as Author of my bliss):
Which, once transgrest, deserues the rigor rather
Of sharpest Iudge, then mildnes of a Father.

The Firmament shall retrograde his course,
Swift Euphrates goe hide him in his source,
Firm Mountains skip like Lambs; beneath the Deep
Eagles shall diue; Whales in the air shall keep,
Yer I presume, with fingers ends to touch
(Much less with lips) the Fruit forbod so much.

Thus, yet in league with Heav'n and Earth, he liues;
Enioying all the Goods th' Almighty giues:
And, yet not treading Sins false mazy measures,
Sails on smooth surges of a Sea of pleasures;

Heer, vnderneath a fragrant Hedge reposes,
Full of all kindes of sweet all-coloured Roses,
Which (one would think) the Angels daily dress
In true loue-knots, tri-angles, lozenges.

Anon he walketh in a leuell lane
On either side beset with shady Plane,
Whose arched boughs, for Frize and Cornich bear
Thick Groues, to shield from future change of air:
Then in a path impal'd, in pleasant wise,
With sharp-sweet Orange, Limon, Citron trees;
Whose leauy twigs, that intricately tangle,
Seem painted walls whereon true fruits do dangle.

Now in a plentious Orchard planted rare
With vn-graft trees, in checker, round and square:
Whose goodly fruits so on his will doe wait,
That plucking one, another's ready straight:
And hauing tasted all (with due satiety)
Findes all one goodnes, but in taste variety.

Anon he stalketh with an easie stride,
By som cleer Riuer's lilly-paued side,
Whose sand's pure gold, whose pebbles precious Gemms,
And liquid siluer all the curling streams:
Whose chiding murmur, mazing in and out,
With Crystall cesterns moats a mead about:
And th' art-less Bridges, ouer-thwart this Torrent,
Are rocks self-arched by the eating current:
Or louing Palms, whose lusty Femals (willing
Their marrow-boyling loues to be fulfilling,
And reach their Husband-trees on th' other banks)
Bow their stiff backs, and serue for passing-planks.

Then in a goodly Garden's alle is smooth,
Where prodig Nature sets abroad her booth
Of richest beauties, where each bed and border
Is like pide posies diuers dies and order.

Now, far from noise, he creepeth couertly
Into a Caue of kindly Porphyry,
Which, rock-fall'nspowts, congeald by colder air,
Seem with smooth anticks to haue sceled fair:
There laid at ease, a cubit from the ground,
Vpon a Iaspir fring'd with yuie round,
Purfled with vains, thick thrumm'd with mossie Beuer,
He falls asleep fast by a silent Riuer;
Whose captiue streams, through crooked pipes still rushing,
Make sweeter Musick with their gentle gushing,
Then now at Tiuoli, th' Hydrantik Braul.
Of rich Ferrara's stately Cardinall:
Or Ctesibegrave;s rare engines, framed there
Where as they made of Ibis, Iupiter.

Musing. anon through crooked Walks he wanders,
Round-winding rings, and intricate Meanders,
False-guiding paths, doubtfull beguiling strays,
And right-wrong errors of an end-less Maze:
Not simply hedged with a single border
Of Rosenoary, cut-out with curious order,
In Satyrs, Centaurs, Whales, and half-men-Horses,
And thousand other counterfaited corses:
But with true Beasts, fast in the ground still sticking,
Feeding on grass, and th' airy moisture licking:
Such as those Bonarets, in Scythia bred
Of slender seeds, and with green fodder fed;
Although their bodies, noses, mouths, and eys,
Of new-yeand Lambs haue full the form and guise;
And should be very Lambs. saue that (for foot)
Within the ground, they fix a liuing root,
Which at their nauell growes, and dies that day
That they haue brouz'd the neighbour grass away.

O wondrous vertue of God only good!
The Beast hath root, the Plant hath flesh & bloud:
The nimble Plant can turn it to and fro;
The nummed Beast can neither stir norgoe:
The Plant is leaf-less, branch-less, void of fruit;
The Beast is lust-less, sex-less, fire-less, mute:
The Plant with Plants his hungry paunch doth feede;
Th' admired Beast is sowen a slender seede.

Then vp and down a Forrest thick he paseth;
Which selfly opening in his presence, baseth
Her trembling tresses neuer-vading spring,
For humble homage to her mightie King:
Where thousand Trees, wauing with gentle puffs
Their plumy tops, sweep the celestiall roofs:
Yet enuying all the massie Cerbas fame,
Sith fiftie pases can but clasp the same.

There springs the Shrub three foot aboue the grass,
Which fears the keen edge of the Curtelace;
Whereof the rich Egyptian so endears
Root, bark, and fruit, and much-much more the tears.

There liues the Sea-oake, in a little shel;
There growes vntill'd the ruddy Cochenel:
And there the Chermez, which on each side Arms
With pointed prickles all his precious arms:
Rich Trees, and fruitfull in those Worms of Price,
Which pressed, yeeld a crimsin-coloured juice,
Whence thousand Lambs are died so deep in grain
That their own Mothers knowe them not again.

There mounts the Melt, which serues in Mexico
For weapon, wood, needle, and threed (to sowe)
Brick, hony, sugar, sucket, balm, and wine,
Parchment, perfume, apparell, cord, and line:
His wood for fire, his harder leaues are fit
For thousand vses of inuentiue wit.
Som-times ther-on they graue their holy things,
Laws, lauds of Idols, and the gests of Kings:
Som-times conioyned by a cunning hand
Vpon their roofs for rowes of tyle they stand:
Som-times they twine them into equall threeds;
Small ends make needles; greater, arrow-heads:
His vpper sap the sting of Serpentscutes:
His new-sprung bud a rare Conserue indures:
His burned stalks, with strong fumosities
Of pearcing vapours, purge the French disease:
And they extract, from liquor of his feet,
Sharpevinegar, pure hony, sugar sweet.

There quakes the Plant, which in Pudefetan
Is call'd the Shame-fac't: for, asham'd of man,
If towards it one doo approach too much,
It shrinks his boughs, to shun our hatefull touch;
As if it had a soule, a sense, and sight,
Subiect to shame, fear, sorrow and despight.

And there, that Tree from off whose trembling top
Both swimming shoals, and flying troups doe drop:
I mean the tree now in Iuturna growing,
Whose leaues disperst by Zephyr's wanton blowing,
Are metamorphos'd both in form and matter,
On land to Fowls, to Fishes in the Water.

But seest thou not (deer Muse) thou treadst the same
Too-curious path, thou dost in others blame?
And striv'st in vain to paint This Work so choice,
The which no humane spirit, nor hand, nor voice,
Can once conceiue, less pourtray, least express,
All ouer-whelm'd in gulfs so bottomless.
Who (matching Art with Nature) likeneth
Our grounds to EDEN, fondly measureth,
By painted Butter-flies th' imperiall Eagle;
And th' Elephant by euery little Beagle.

This fear to fail, shall serue me for a bridle,
Least (lacking wings and guide) too busie-idle,
And ouer-bold, Gods Cabinet I clime,
To seek the place and search the very time,
When both our Parents, or but one was ta'en
Out of our Earth, into that fruitfull Plain:
How long they had that Garden in possession,
Before their proud and insolent Transgression:
What Children there they earned, and how many,
Of whether sex: or whether none or any:
Or how (at least) they should haue propagated,
If the sly malice of the serpent hated,
Causing their fall, had not defil'd their kin,
And vnborn seed, with leprosie of Sin.

If void of Venus; sith vnlike it is,
Such blessed state the noble flowr should miss
Of Virgin-head, or folk so perfect chaste
Should furious feel, when they their loues imbraç't;
Such tickling flames as our fond soule surprise
(That dead a-while in Epileps•e lies)
And slack our sinews all, by little and little
Drowning our reason in foule pleasure brittle.

Or whether else as men in gender now,
Sith spouse-bedspot-less laws of God allow,
If no excess command: sith else again
The Lord had made the double sex in vain.

Whether their Infants should haue had the Powr
We now perceiue in fresh youths Iusty flowr,
As nimble feet, lims strong and vigorous;
Industrious hands, and hearts couragious;
Sith before sin, Man ought not less appear
In Natures gifts, then his then-seruants were:
And loe the Partridge, which new-hatched bears
On her weak back her parent-house, and wears
In stead of wings, a bever-supple down,
Follows her dam through furrows vp and down.

Or else as now; sith in the womb of Eue
A man of thirtie yeares could neuer liue:
Nor may we iudge' gainst Natures course apparant;
Without the sacred Scriptures speciall warrant:
Which for our good (as Heav'ns deer babe) hath right
To countermaund our reason and our sight.

Whether their seed should with their birth haue brought
Deep Knowledge, Reason, Vnderstanding-thought;
Sith now wee see the new-fall'n feeble Lamb,
Yet stayn'd with bloud of his distressed Dam,
Knowes wel the Wolf, at whose fell sight he shakes,
And right the tear of th' vnknow'n Eaw he takes.
And sith a dull Dunce, which no knowledge can,
Is a dead image, and no liuing man.

Or the thick vail of Ignorance's night
Had hooded-vp their issues inward sight;
Sith the much moisture of an Infant brain
Receiues so many shapes, that ouer-lam
New dash the old; and the trim commixation
Of confus'd fancies, full of alteration,
Makes th' Vnderstanding hull, which settle would,
But findes no firm ground for his Anchors hold.

Whether old ADAM should haue left the place
Vnto his Sonnes; they, to their after-race:
Or whether all together at the last
Should gloriously from thence to Heav'n haue past.

Search whoso list, who list let va••t in pride
T' haue hit the white, and let him (sage) decide
The many other doubts that vainly rise,
For mine owne part I will not seem so wise:
I will not waste my trauail and my seed,
To reap an empty straw, or fruitless reed.

Alas! we know what Orion of grief
Rain'd on the curst head of the creatures Chief,
After that God against him war proclaim'd,
And Satan princedom of the earth had claim'd.
But none can know precisely how at all
Our Elders liv'd before their odious fall:
An vnknow'n Cifer, and deep Pit it is,
Where Dircean Oedipus his marks would miss:
Sith Adam's self, if now he liv'd anew,
Could scant vnwinde the knotty snarled clew
Of double doubts, and questions intricate
That Schools dispute about this pristin state.

But this sole point I rest resolved in,
That seeing Death's the meer effect of sin,
Man had not dreaded Death's all-slaying might,
Had hee still stood in Innocence vpright.

For, as two Bellows, blowing turn by turn,
By little and little make cold coals to burn,
And then their fire inflames with glowing heat
An yron bar; which on the Anuil beat,
Seems no more yron, but flyes almost all
In hissing sparks, and quick bright cinders small:
So, the Worlds Soule should in our soule inspire
Th' eternall force of an eternall fire,
And then our soule (as form) breathe in our corse
Her count-less numbers, and Heav'n-tuned force,
Wherewith our bodies beauty beautified,
Should (like our death-less soule) haue neuer died.

Heer (wot I well) som wranglers will presume
To say, Small fire will by degrees consume
Our humor radicall: and, how-be-it
The differing vertues of those fruits, as yet
Had no agreement with the harmfull spight
Of the fell Persian dangerous Acomte;
And notwithstanding that then ADAMS taste
Could well haue vsed all, without all waste,
Yet could they not restore him euery day
Vnto his body that which did decay.
Because the food cannot (as being strange)
So perfectly in humane substance change:
For, it resembleth wine, wherein too rife
Water is brewd, whereby the pleasant life
Is ouer-cool'd; and so there rests, in fine,
Nought of the strength, sauour, or taste of wine.
Besides, in time the naturall faculties
Are tyr'd with toyl; and th' Humour-enemies,
Our death conspiring, vndermine, at last,
Of our Soules prisons the foundations fast.

I, but the Tree of life the strife did stay
Which th' Humours caused in this house of clay;
And stopping th' euill, changed (perfect good)
In body fed, the body of the food:
Only the soules contagious malady
Had force to frustrate this high remedy.

Immortall then, and mortall, man was made;
Mortall he liv'd, and did immortall vade:
For, 'fore th' effects of his rebellious ill,
To die or liue, was in his power and will:
But since his Sin, and proud Apostasie,
Ah! die he may, but not (alas!) not-dy;
As after his new-birth, he shall attain
Onely a powr to neuer-dy again.