Page 251 - PARADISE LOST
P. 251

Paradise Lost


                                  So spake domestick Adam in his care
                                  And matrimonial love; but Eve, who thought
                                  Less attributed to her faith sincere,
                                  Thus her reply with accent sweet renewed.
                                  If this be our condition, thus to dwell
                                  In narrow circuit straitened by a foe,
                                  Subtle or violent, we not endued
                                  Single with like defence, wherever met;
                                  How are we happy, still in fear of harm?
                                  But harm precedes not sin: only our foe,
                                  Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem
                                  Of our integrity: his foul esteem
                                  Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns
                                  Foul on himself; then wherefore shunned or feared
                                  By us? who rather double honour gain
                                  From his surmise proved false; find peace within,
                                  Favour from Heaven, our witness, from the event.
                                  And what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed
                                  Alone, without exteriour help sustained?
                                  Let us not then suspect our happy state
                                  Left so imperfect by the Maker wise,
                                  As not secure to single or combined.
                                  Frail is our happiness, if this be so,
                                  And Eden were no Eden, thus exposed.
                                  To whom thus Adam fervently replied.
                                  O Woman, best are all things as the will
                                  Of God ordained them: His creating hand
                                  Nothing imperfect or deficient left
                                  Of all that he created, much less Man,


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