PARADISE.[011]

    So on he fares, and to the border comes
    Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,
    Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green,
    As with a rural mound, the champaign head
    Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides
    With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild,
    Access denied:  and overhead up grew
    Insuperable height of loftiest shade,
    Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm,
    A sylvan scene; and as, the ranks ascend
    Shade above shade, a woody theatre
    Of stateliest view.  Yet higher than their tops,
    The verdurous wall of Paradise up-sprung: 
    Which to our general sire gave prospect large
    Into his nether empire neighbouring round;
    And higher than that wall a circling row
    Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit,
    Blossoms and fruits at once, of golden hue,
    Appear’d, with gay enamell’d colours mix’d;
    On which the sun more glad impress’d his beams,
    Than on fair evening cloud, or humid bow. 
    When God hath shower’d the earth; so lovely seem’d
    That landscape:  and of pure now purer air
    Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires
    Vernal delight and joy, able to drive
    All sadness but despair:  now gentle gales,
    Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense
    Native perfumes and whisper whence they stole
    Those balmy spoils.  As when to them who sail
    Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past
    Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow
    Sabean odours from the spicy shore
    Of Araby the Blest; with such delay
    Well pleased they slack their course, and many a league
    Cheer’d with the grateful smell, old Ocean smiles.

* * * * *

    Southward through Eden went a river large,
    Nor changed his course, but through the shaggy hill
    Pass’d underneath ingulf’d; for God had thrown
    That mountain as his garden mould, high raised
    Upon the rapid current, which through veins
    Of porous earth with kindly thirst up-drawn,
    Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill
    Water’d the garden; thence united fell
    Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood,
    Which from his darksome passage now appears;
    And now, divided into four main streams,
    Runs diverse, wandering many a famous realm
    And country, whereof here needs no account;
    But rather to tell how, if art could tell,
    How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks,
    Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold,
    With mazy error under pendent shades,
    Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed
    Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice art
    In beds and curious knots, but nature boon
    Pour’d forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain,
    Both where the morning sun