No More Learning

"O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death!
Must I thus leave thee, Paradise? Thus leave
Thee, native soil? These happy walks and shades,
Fit haunt of gods, where I had hoped to spend
Quiet, though sad, the respite of that day
That must be mortal to us both? O flowers,
That never will in any other climate grow,
My early visitation and my last
At even, which I tied up with tender hand
From the first opening bud and gave ye names,
Who now shall rear ye to the Sun, or rank
Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount?
. . . How shall we breathe in other air
Less pure, accustomed to immortal fruits? "

The Angel reminds her:

"Thy going is not lonely; with thee goes
Thy husband; him to follow thou art bound.
Where he abides think there thy native soil. "

Michael then ascending a hill with Adam shows him a vision of the
world's history, while Eve sleeps.


_XII. --Paradise Behind, the World Before_

The history is continued, with its promise of redemption, until Adam
exclaims:

"Full of doubt I stand,
Whether I should repent me now of sin
By me done and occasioned, or rejoice
Much more that much more good thereof shall spring--
To God more glory, more good-will to men. "

Eve awakens from propitious dreams, it having been shown to her that--

"Though all by me is lost,
Such favour I unworthy am vouchsafed.
By me the Promised Seed shall all restore. "

The time, however, has come when they must leave. A flaming sword,
"fierce as a comet," advances towards them before the bright array of
cherubim.

Whereat
In either hand the hastening angel caught
Our lingering parents, and to the eastern gate
Led them direct, and down the cliff so fast
To the subjected plain--then disappeared.
They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld
Of Paradise, so late their happy seat,
Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate
With dreadful forces thronged and fiery arms.
Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon;
The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.


FOOTNOTES:

[AA] John Milton, the peer of Dante as one of the world's
master-poets, was born in Bread Street, London, on December 9, 1608,
the son of a well-to-do scrivener. Educated at St. Paul's School
and at Cambridge, he devoted himself from the first to poetry. The
"Ode on the Nativity" was written when the poet was twenty-one. His
productions till his thirtieth year were nearly all of a classical
caste--"L'Allegro," "Il Penseroso," "Comus," "Lycidas. " Returning from
Continental travels in 1639, Milton became enmeshed in politics, and so
continued for twenty years, during which time he wrote much polemical
prose, including his "Areopagitica" (see Vol. XX, p. 257) and his
"Tractate on Education. " After a spell of teaching and pamphleteering,
he served as Latin secretary to Oliver Cromwell, and was stricken with
blindness at the age of forty-four.