Deep velvet verdure clad the turf beneath,
Where trodden flowers their richest odors breathe;
O'er all, the Bees, with murmuring music, flew
From bell to bell, to sip the treasured dew;
While insect myriads in the solar gleams,
Glanced to and fro, like intermingling beams;
So fresh, so pure, the woods, the sky, the air,
It seemed a place where angels might repair,
And tune their harps beneath those tranquil shades,
To morning songs, or moonlight serenades.

He paused again with memory's dream entranced;
Again his foot uncautiously advanced,
For now the laurel thicket caught his view,
Where he and Zillah wept their last adieu.
Some curious hand, since that bereaving hour,
Had twined the copse into a covert bower,
With many a light and fragrant shrub between,
Flowering aloft amidst perennial green,
As Javan searched this blossom-woven shade,
He spied the semblance of a sleeping maid;
'Tis she; 'tis Zillah, in her leafy shrine;
O'erwatched in slumber by a power divine,
In cool retirement from the heat of day,
Alone, unfearing, on the moss she lay,

Fair as the rainbow shines thro' darkening showers, Pure as a wreath of snow on April flowers.

O Youth in later times, whose gentle ear
This tale of ancient constancy shall hear;
If thou hast known the sweetness and the pain,
To love with secret hope, yet love in vain;
If months and years in pining silence worn,
Till doubt and fear might be no longer borne,
In evening shades thy faltering tongue confessed
The last dear wish that trembled in thy breast,
While at each pause the streamlet purled along,
And rival woodlands echoed song for song;
Recall the maiden's look;-the eye, the cheek,
The blush that spoke what language could not speak;
Recall her look, when at the altar's side

She sealed her promise, and became thy bride;
Such were to Javan Zillah's form and face,
The flower of meekness on a stem of grace;
O she was all that youth of beauty deems,
AL that to love the loveliest object seems!

Moments there are, that, in their sudden flight,
Bring the slow mysteries of years to light;
Javan, in one transporting instant, knew,
That all he wished, and all he feared was true;
For while the harlot-world his soul possessed,
Love seemed a crime in his apostate breast;
How could he tempt her innocence to share
His poor ambition and his fixed despair!
But now the phantoms of a wandering brain,
And wounded spirit, crossed his thoughts in vain ;
Past sins and follies, cares and woes forgot,
Peace, virtue, Zillah, seemed his present lot;
Where'er he looked around him or above,
All was the pledge of truth, the work of love,
At whose transforming hand, where last they stood,
Had sprung that lone memorial in the wood.

Thus on the slumbering maid while Javan gazed With quicker swell her hidden bosom raised The shadowy tresses, that profusely shed Their golden wreaths from her reclining head; A deeper crimson mantled o'er her cheek, Her close lip quivered as in act to speak, While broken sobs, and tremors of unrest, The inward trouble of a dream expressed: At length, amidst imperfect murmurs fell The name of "Javan" and a low "fa:ewel!!" Tranquil again, her cheek resumed its hue, And soft as infancy her breath she drew.

When Javan's ear those startling accents thrilled, Wonder and ecstacy his bosom filled;

But quick compunction humbler feelings wrought,
He blushed to be a spy on Zillah's thought;
He turned asile; within the neighboring brake,
Resolved to tarry till the nymph awake.
There, as n luxury of thoug's, relined,

A calm of tenderness composed his mind;
His stringless harp upon the turf was thrown,
And on a pipe of most mellifluous tone,
Framed by himself, the musing minstrel played,
To charm the slumberer, cloistered in the shade.
Jubal had taught the lyre's responsive string,
Beneath the rapture of his touch to sing;
And bade the trumpet wake with bolder breath,
The joy of battle in the field of death;
But Javan first, whom pure affection fired,
With Love's clear eloquence the flute inspired;
At once obedient to the lip and hand,
It uttered every feeling at command.
Light o'er the stops his airy fingers flew,
A spirit spoke in every tone they drew;
'Twas now the sky-lark on the wings of morn,
Now the night-warbler leaning on her thorn;
Anon through every pulse the music stole,
And held sublime communion with the soul,
Wrung from the coyest breast the unprisoned sigh,
And kin led rapture in the coldest eye.

Thus on his dulcet pipe while Javan played,
Within her bower awoke the conscious maid;
She, in her dream, by varying fancies crost,
Had hailed her wanderer found, and mourned him lost:
In one wild vision, 'midst a land unknown,
By a dark river, as she sat alone,

Javan beyond the stream dejected stood;

He spied her soon and leapt into the flood;
The thwarting current urged him down its course,
But Love repelled it with victorious force;
She ran to help him landing, where at length
He struggled up the bank with failing strength;
She caught his hand;-when, downward from the day,
A water-monster dragged the youth away;
She followed headlong, but her garments bore
Her form, light-floating, till she saw no more:
For suddenly the dream's delusion changed,
And through a blooming wilderness she ranged:
Alone she seemed, but not alone she walked,
Javan, invisible, beside her talked.

He told, how he had journeyed many a year
With changing seasons in their swift career,
Danced with the breezes in the bowers of mon,
Slept in the valley where new moons are born,
Rode with the planets, on their golden cars,
Round the blue world inhabited by stars,
And, bathing in the sun's crystalline streams,
Became ethereal spirit in the beams,
Whence were his lineaments, from mortal sight,
Absorbed in pure transparency of light;
But now, his pilgrimage of glory past,
In Eden's vale he sought repose at last.
-The voice was mystery to Zillah's ear,
Not speech, nor song, yet full, melodious, clear;
No sounds of winds or waters, birds or bees,
Were e'er so exquisitely tuned to please.
Then while she sought him with desiring eyes,
The airy Javan darted from disguise,
Full on her view a stranger's visage broke;
She fled, she fell, he caught her,—she awoke.

Awoke from sleep,-but in her solitude
Found the enchantment of her dream renewed,
That living voice, so full, melodious, clear,
That voice of mystery warbled in her ear.
Yet words no longer wing the trembling notes,
Unearthly, inexpressive music floats,

In liquid tones so voluble and wild,
Her senses seem by slumber still beguiled:
Alarmed she started from her lonely den,
But, blushing, instantly retired again:
The viewless phantom came in sound so near,
The stranger of her dream might next appear.
Javan, concealed behind the verdant brake,
Felt his lip fail, and strength his hand forsake;
Then dropped his flute, and while he lay at rest
Heard every pulse that travelled through his breast.
Zillah, who deemed the strange illusion fled,
Now from the laurel-arbor showed her head,
Her eye quick-glancing round, as if in thought,

Recoiling from the object that she sought:
By slow degrees, to Javan in the shade,
The emerging nymph her perfect shape displayed.
Tine had but touched her form to finer grace,
Years had but shed their favors on her face,
While secret Love, and unrewarded Truth,
Like cold clear dew upon the rose of youth,
Gave to the springing flower a chastened bloom,
And shut from rifling winds its coy perfume.

Words can not paint the wonder of her look,
When once again his pipe the minstrel took,
And soft in under-tones began to play,
Like the caged woodlark's low lamenting lay;
then loud and shrill, by stronger breath impelled,
To higher strains the undaunted music swelled,
Cill new born echoes through the forest rang,
And birds, at noon, in broken slumbers sang.
Bewildering transport, infantine surprise,
Throbbed in her bosom, sparkled in her eyes,
Per every feature, every feeling shone,
Her color changed as Javan changed his tone;
While she between the bower and brake entranced,
Alternately retreated or advanced;

Sometimes the lessening cacence seemed to fly
Then the full melody came rolling nigh;
She shrunk, or followed still, with eye and feet,
Afraid to lose it, more afraid to meet;

For yet through Eden's land, by fame alone,
Jubal's harmonious minstrelsey was known,
Though nobler songs than cheered the Patriarchs' glen
Never resounded from the lips of men.

Silence, at length, the listening maiden broke;
The heart of Javan checked him while she spoke;
Though sweeter than his pipe her accents stole,
He durst not learn the tumult of her soul,
But, closely cowering in his ambuscade,
With sprightlier breath and nimbler finger played
-"'Tis not the nightingale that sang so well,
When Javan left me near this lonely cell;
'Tis not indeed the nightingale ;-her voice
Could never since that hour my soul rejoice:
Some bird from Paradise hath lost her way,
And carols here a long forbidden lay;

For ne'er since Eve's transgression, mortal ear
Was privileged such heavenly sounds to hear;
Perhaps an Angel, while he rests his wings,
On earth alighting, here his descant sings;
Methinks those tones, so full of joy and love,
Must be the language of the world above!
Within this brake he rests:" with curious ken,
As if she feared to stir a lion's den,

Breathless, on tiptoe, round the copse she crept;
Her heart beat quicker, louder, as she stepped,
Till Javan rose, and fixed on her his eyes,
In dumb embarrassment, and feigned surprise;
Upright she started, at the sudden view,

Back from her brow the scattered ringlets flew,
Paleness a moment overspread her face;
But fear to frank astonishment gave place,
And, with the virgin blush of innocence,

She asked-"Who art thou, Stranger, and from whence?"

With mild demeanor, and with downcast eye,
Javan, advancing, humbly made reply;
-"A wretch, escaping from the tribes of men,
Feeks an asylum in the Patriarchs' glen;

As through the forest's breathless gloom I strayed,
Up sprang the breeze in this delicious shade;
Then, while I sate beneath the rustling tree,
I waked this pipe to wildest minstrelsey,
Child of my fancy, framed with Jubal's art,
To breathe at will the fulness of my heart;
Fairest of women! if the clamor rude
Hath scared the quiet of the solitude,
Forgive the innocent offence, and tell,

How far beyond these woods the righteous dwell.”—

Though changed his voice, his look and stature changed, In air and garb, in all but love estranged, Still in the youthful exile Zillah sought A dear lost friend, for ever near her thought!

Yet answered coldly,-jealous and afraid
Her heart might be mistaken, or betrayed.
-"Not far from hence the faithful race reside;
Pilgrim to whom shall I thy footsteps guide?
Alike to all, if thou an alien be,

My father's home invites thee: follow me."

She spoke with such a thought divining look, Color his lip, and power his tongue forsook; At length, in hesitating tone, and low, -"Enoch," said he, "the friend of God, I know. To him I bear a message full of fear;

I may not rest till he vouchsafe to hear."

He paused; his cheek with red confusion turned;
Kindness through her relenting breast returned:
-"Behold the path," she cried, and led the way;
Ere long the vale unbosomed to the day:
-"Yonder, where two embracing oaks are seen,
Arched o'er a cottage roof, that peeps between,
Dwells Enoch; Stranger! peace attend thee there,
My father's sheep demand his daughter's care."-
Javan was so rebuked beneath her eye,
She vanished ere he faltered a reply

And sped, while he in cold amazement stood,
Along the winding border of the wood;
Now lost, now reappearing, as the glade
Shone to the sun, or darkened in the shade.
He saw, but might not follow, where her flock
Were wont to rest at noon, beneath a rock.
He knew the willowy champaign, and the stream,
Of many an early lay the simple theme,
Chanted in boyhood's unsuspecting hours,
When Zillah joined the song, or praised his powers.
Thither he watched her, while her course she bore,
Nor ceased to gaze, when she was seen no more.

"Am I so changed by suffering, so forgot,
That Love disowns me, Zillah knows me not?
Ah! no; she shrinks from my disastrous fate,
She dare not love me, and she can not hate:
'Tis just; I merit this :-When Nature's womb
Engulphed my kindred in one common tomb,
Why was I spared ?-A reprobate by birth,
To heaven rebellious, unallied on earth,
Whither, O whither shall the outcast flee?
There is no home, no peace, no hope for me.
I hate the worldling's vanity and noise,

I have no fellow-feeling in his joys;
The saint's serener bliss I can not share,
My soul, alas! hath no communion there.
This is the portion of my cup below,
Silent, unmingled, solitary wo;

To bear from clime to clime, the curse of Cain,
Sin with remorse, yet find repentance vain;
And cling, in blank despair, from breath to breath,
To naught in life, except the fear of death."-,

While Javan gave his bitter passion vent,
And wandered on unheeded where he went,
His feet, instinctive, led him to the spot,
Where rose the ruins of his childhood's cot:
Here, as he halted in abrupt surprise,
His mother seemed to vanish from his eyes,
As if her gentle form, unmarked before,
Had stood to greet him at the wonted door.
Yet did the pale retiring spirit dart
A look of tenderness that broke his heart:
'Twas but a thought, arrested on its flight,
And bodied forth, with visionary light.
But chill the lifeblood ran through every vein,
The fire of phrensy faded from his brain,
He cast himself in terror on the ground:
-Slowly recovering strength, he gazed around,

In wistful silence, eyed those walls decayed,

Between whose chinks the lively lizzard played;
The moss clad timbers, loose and lapsed awry,
Threatening ere long in wider wreck to lie;

The fractured roof, through which the sun-beams shone,
With rank, unflowering verdure overgrown;
The prostrate fragments of the wicker door,
And reptile traces on the damp green floor.
This mournful spectacle while Javan viewed,
Life's earliest scenes and trials were renewed?
O'er his dark mind, the light of years gone by
Gleamed like the meteors of a northern sky.
He moved his lips, but strove in vain to speak,
A few slow tears strayed down his cold wan cheek,
Till from his breast a sigh convulsive sprung,
And "O my Mother!" trembled from his tongue.
That name, though but a murmur, that dear name
Touched every kind affection into flame;
Despondency assumed a milder form,

A ray of comfort darted through the storm;
"O God! be merciful to me !" he said,
Arose, and straight to Enoch's dwelling sped.

Enoch, who sate, to taste the freshening breeze,
Beneath the shadow of his cottage trees,
Beheld the youth approaching; and his eye,
Instructed by the light of prophecy,
Knew from afar, beneath the stranger's air,
The orphan object of his tenderest care;
Forth, with a father's joy, the holy man
To meet the poor returning pilgrim ran,

Fell on his neck, and kissed him, wept and cried,
"My son! my son !"-but Javan shrunk aside;
The patriarch raised, embraced him, oft withdrew
His head to gaze, then wept and clasped anew.
The mourner bowed with agony of shame
Clung round his knees, and called upon his name.
-"Father! behold a supplicant in me,
A sinner in the sight of Heaven and thee;
Yet for thy former love, may Javan live;
O, for the mother's sake, the son forgive!—
The meanest office and the lowest seat,
In Enoch's house be mine, at Enoch's feet."

"Come to my home, my bosom, and my rest, Not as a stranger, and wayfaring guest; My bread of peace, my cup of blessings share, Child of my faith! and answer to my prayer! OI have wept through many a night for thee, And watched through many a day, this day to see. Crowned is the hope of my desiring heart, I am resigned, and ready to depart : With joy I hail my course of nature run, Since I have seen thy face, my son! my son!"

So saying, Enoch led to his abode

The trembling penitent along the road

That through the garden's gay enclosure wound;

'Midst fruits and flowers the patriarch's spouse they found,
Plucking the purple clusters from the vine,
To crown the cup of unfermented wine.

She came to meet them;-but in strange surmise
Stopped, and on Javan fixed her earnest eyes;
He kneeled to greet her hand with wonted grace
Ah! then she knew him!-as he bowed his face,
His mother's features in a glimpse she caught,
And the son's image rushed upon her thought;
Pale she recoiled with momentary fright,
As if a spirit had risen before her sight;
Returning, with a heart too full to speak
She poured a flood of tears upon his cheek,
Then laughed for gladness-but her laugh was wild;
"Where hast thou been, my own, my orphan child?
Child of my soul! bequeathed in death to me,
By her who had no other wealth than thee!'
She cried, and with a mother's love caressed
The youth who wept in silence on her breast.

This hasty tumult of affection o'er, They passed within the hospitable door; There on a grassy couch, with joy o'ercome, Pensive with awe, with veneration dumb,

Javan reclined, while kneeling at his seat,
The humble patriarch washed the traveller's feet.
Quickly the spouse her plenteous table spread
With homely viands, milk and fruits and bread.
Ere long the guest grown innocently bold,
With simple eloquence his story told;

His sins, his follies, frankly were revealed,
And nothing but his nameless love concealed.
"While thus," he cried, "I proved the world a snare,
Pleasure a serpent, fame a cloud in air;
While with the sons of men my footsteps trod,
My home, my heart was with the sons of God."

"Went nɔt my spirit with thee," Enoch said,
"When from the mother's grave the orphan fled?
Others believed thee slain by beasts of blood,
Or self-devoted to the strangling flood,
(Too plainly in thy grief-bewildered mien,
By every eye, a breaking heart was seen;)
I mourned in secret thine apostacy,

Nor ceased to intercede, with Heaven for thee.
Strong was my faith, in dreams or waking thought,
Oft as thine image o'er my mind was brought,
I deemed thee living by this conscious sign,
The deep communion of my soul with thine.
This day a voice, that thrilled my breast with fear,
(Methought 'twas Adam's) whispered in mine ear,

Enoch! ere thrice the morning meet the sun,
Thy joy shall be fulfilled, thy rest begun.'—
While yet those tones were murmuring in air,
I turned to look,-but saw no speaker there:
Thought I not then of thee, my long-lost joy?
Leaped not my heart abroad to meet my boy?
Yes! and while still I sate beneath the tree,
Resolving what the signal meant to me,

I spied thee coming, and with eager feet
Ran, the returning fugitive to greet:
Nor less the welcome art thou, since I know
By this high warning, that from earth I go;
My days are numbered; peace on thine attend!
The trial comes-be faithful to the end."

"O live the years of Adam!" cried the youth; "Yet seem thy words to breathe prophetic truth: Sire! while I roamed the world, a transient guest, From sunrise to the ocean of the west,

I found that sin, where'er the foot of man
Nature's primeval wilderness o'er ran,
Had tracked his steps, and through advancing time
Urged the deluded race from crime to crime,
Till wrath and strife in fratricidal war,
Gathered the force of nations from afar,
To deal and suffer death's unheeded blow,
As if the curse on Adam were too slow.
Even now a host, like locusts on their way,
That desolate the earth and dim the day,
Led by a giant-king, whose arm hath broke
Remotest realms to wear his iron yoke,
Hover o'er Eden, resolute to close
His final triumph o'er his latest foes;
A feeble band, that in their covert lie,
Like cowering doves beneath his falcon's ey
That easy and ignoble conquest won,
There yet remains one fouler deed undone.
Oft have I heard the tyrant, in his ire,
Devote this glen to massacre and fire,
And swear to root, from earth's dishonored face,
The last least relic of the faithful race;
Thenceforth he hopes, on God's terrestrial throne
To rule the nether universe alone.
Wherefore, O sire! when evening shuts the sky,
Fly with thy kindred, from destruction fly:
Far to the south, unpeopled wilds of wood
Skirt the dark borders of Euphrates' flood;
There shall the patriarchs find secure repose,
Till Eden rest, forsaken of her foes."

At Javan's speech the matron's cheek grew pale,
Her courage, not her faith, began to fail;
Eve's youngest daughter she; the silent tear
Witnessed her patience, but betrayed her fear.
Then answered Enoch, with a smile serene,
That shed celestial beauty o'er his mien⚫

Here is mine earthly habitation; here
I wait till my Redeemer shall appear;
Death and the face of man I dare not shun,
God is my refuge, and his will be done."

The mitron checked her unbecoming sigh,
And wiped the drop that trembled in her eye.

Javan, with shame and self-abasement blushed, But every care at Enoch's smile was hushed: He felt the power of truth; his heart o'erflowed, And in his look sublime devotion glowed. Westward the patriarch turned his tranquil face; "The Sur," said he, "hath well nigh run his race; I to the yearly sacrifice repair,

Our brethren meet me at the place of prayer."

"I follow; O my father! I am thine Thy God, thy people, and thine altar mine!" Exclaimed the youth, on highest thoughts intent, And forth with Enoch through the valley went.

Deep was that valley, girt with rock and wood; In rural groups the scattered hamlet stood; Tents, arbors, cottages, adorned the scene, Gardens and fields, and shepherds' walks between; Through all, a streamlet, from its mountain-source, Seen but by stealth, pursued its willowy course.

When first the mingling sons of God and man
The demon sacrifice of war began,
Self-exiled here, the family of Seth
Renounced a world of violence and death
Faithful alone amidst the faithless found,
And innocent while murder cursed the ground.
Here, in retirement from profane mankind,
They worshipped God with purity of mind,
Fed their small flocks, and tilled their narrow soil,
Like parent Adam, with submissive toil,

-Adam whose eyes their pious hands had closed,
Whose bones beneath their quiet turf reposed.
No glen like this unstained with human blood,
Could youthful nature boast before the flood;
Far less shall earth, now hastening to decay,
A scene of sweeter loneliness display,

Where naught was heard but sounds of peace and love,
Nor seen but woods around, and heaven above.

Yet not in cold and unconcerned content,
Their years in that delicious range were spent ;
Oft from their haunts the fervent patriarchs broke,
In strong affection to their kindred spoke,
With tears and prayers reproved their growing crimes,
Or told the impending judgments of the times.
In vain; the world despised the warning word,
With scorn belied it, or with mockery heard,
Forbade the zealous monitors to roam,

And stoned, or chased them to their forest home.
There, from the depth of solitude, their sighs
Pleaded with Heaven in ceaseless sacrifice,
And long did righteous Heaven the guilty spare,
Won by the holy violence of prayer.

Yet sharper pangs of unavailing wo
Those sires in secrecy were doomed to huW;
Oft by the world's alluring snares misled,
Their youth from that sequestered valley fled,
Joined the wild herd, increased the godless crew,
And left the virtuous remnant weak and few.

CANTO FOURTH.

Boch relates to Javan the Circumstances of the Death of Adam, including his appointment of an annual Sacrifice, on the Day of his Transgression and Fall in Paradise.

THUS through the valley while they held their walk, Enoch of former days began to talk.

"So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found
Among the faithless, faithful only he."

PARADISE LOST, Book V.

-"Thou knowest our place of sacrifice and prayer,
Javan! for thou wert wont to worship there.
Built by our father's venerable hands,
On the same spot our ancient altar stands,
Where, driven from Eden's hallowed groves, he found
A home on earth's unconsecrated ground;
Whence too, his pilgrimage of trial o'er,

00

He reached the rest which sin can break no more.
Oft hast thou heard our elder patriarchs tell
How Adam once by disobedience fell;
Would that my tongue were gifted to display
The terror and the glory of that day,
When seized and stricken by the hand of Death,
The first transgressor yielded up his breath!
Nigh threescore years with interchanging light,
The host of heaven have measured day and night,
Since we beheld the ground from which he rose,
On his returning dust in silence close.

"With him his noblest sons might not compare,
In godlike feature and majestic air;
Not out of weakness rose his gradual frame,
Perfect from his Creator's hand he came;
And as in form excelling, so in mind
The Sire of man transcended all mankind:
A soul was in his eye, and in his speech
A dialect of heaven no art could reach;
For oft of old to him, the evening breeze
Had born the voice of God among the trees;
Angels were wont their songs with his to blend,
And talk with him as their familiar friend.
But deep remorse for that mysterious crime,
Whose dire contagion through elapsing time,
Diffused the curse of death beyond control,
Had wrought such self abasement in his soul,
That he, whose honors were approached by none,
Was yet the meekest man beneath the sun.
From sin, as from the serpent that betrayed
Eve's early innocence, he shrunk afraid;
Vice he rebuked with so austere a frown,
He seemed to bring an instant judgment down;
Yet while he chid, compunctious tears would start,
And yearning tenderness dissolve his heart;
The guilt of all his race became his own,
He suffered as if he had sinned alone.
Within our glen to filial love endeared,
Abroad for wisdom, truth and justice feared,
He walked so humbly in the sight of all,
The vilest ne'er reproached him with his fall.
Children were his delight;-they ran to meet
His soothing hand, and clasp his honored feet;
While 'midst their fearless sports supremely blest,
He grew in heart a child among the rest :
Yet as a Parent, naught beneath the sky
Touched him so quickly as an infant's eye;
Joy from its smile of happiness he caught,
Its flash of rage sent horror through his thought,
His smitten conscience felt as fierce a pain,
As if he fell from innocence again.

"One morn I tracked him on his lonely way,
Pale as the gleam of slow-awakening day;
With feeble step he climbed von craggy height,
Thence fixed on distant Paradise his sight;
He gazed awhile in silent thought profound,
Then falling prostrate on the dewy ground,
He poured his spirit in a flood of prayer,
Bewailed his ancient crime with self-despair,
And claimed the pledge of reconciling grace,
The promised Seed, the Savior of his race.
Wrestling with God, as Nature's vigor failed,
His faith grew stronger and his plea prevailed;
The prayer from agony to rapture rose,
And sweet as angel accents fell the close,

I stood to greet him; when he raised his head,

Divine expression o'er his visage spread,
His presence was so saintly to behold,
He seemed in sinless Paradise grown old.

“ — This day,' said he, ‘in Time's star-lighted round,
Renews the anguish of that mortal wound
On me inflicted, when the serpent's tongue
My spouse with his beguiling falsehood stung.

Though years of grace through centuries have passed,
Since my transgression, this may be iny last;
Infirmities without, and fears within,
Foretell the consummating stroke of sin;
The hour, the place, the form to me unknown,
But God, who lent me life, will claim his own:
Then, lest I sink as suddenly in death,
As quickened into being by his breath,

Once more I climbed these rocks with weary pace,
And but once more, to view my native place,
To bid von garden of delight farewell,
The earthly Paradise from which I fell.
This mantle, Enoch! which I yearly wear
To mark the day of penitence and prayer,
These skins, the covering of my first offence,
When conscious of departed innocence,
Naked and trembling from my Judge I fled,
A hand of mercy o'er my vileness spread;-
Enoch! this mantle thus vouchsafed to me,
At my dismission I bequeath to thee;
Wear it in sad memorial on this day,
And yearly at mine earliest altar slay
A lamb immaculate, whose blood be spilt
In sign of wrath removed and cancelled guilt;
So be the sins of all my race confest,

So on their heads may peace and pardon rest.'
-Thus spake our Sire, and down the steep descent
With strengthened heart, and fearless footstep went:
O Javan! when we parted at his door,
I loved him as I never loved before.

"Ere noon, returning to his bower, I found
Our father laboring in his harvest ground,
(For yet he tilled a little plot of soil,
Patient and pleased with voluntary tc);

But O how changed from him, whose morning eye
Outshone the star, that told the sun was nigh!
Loose in his feeble grasp the sickle shook;
I marked the ghastly dolour of his look,
And ran to help him; but his latest strength
Failed;-prone upon his sheaves he fell at length:
I strove to raise him; sight and sense were fled,
Nerveless his limbs, and backward swayed his head.
Seth passed; I called him, and we bore our Sire
To neighboring rhades from noon's afflictive fire:
Ere long he 'woke to feeling, with a sigh,
And half unclosed his hesitating eye;
Strangely and timidly he peered around,

Like men in dreams whom sudden lights confound:
-"Is this a new Creation ?-Have I passed
The bitterness of death ?'-He looked aghast
Then sorrowful-No: men and trees appear;
'Tis not a new Creation,-pain is here:
From Sin's dominion is there no release?
Lord! let thy servant now depart in peace.'
-Hurried remembrance crowding o'er his soul,
He knew us; tears of consternation stole

Down his pale cheeks:- Seth!-Enoch! Where is Eve?
How could the spouse her dying consort leave?'

"Eve looked that moment from their cottage-door
In quest of Adam, where he toiled before;
He was not there; she called him by his name;
Sweet to his ear the well-known accents came;
-Here am I,' answered he in tone so weak,
That we who held him scarcely heard him speak;
But, resolutely bent to rise, in vain

He struggled till he swooned away with pain.
Eve called again, and turning tow'rd the shade,
Helpless as infancy, beheld him laid.

She sprang, as smitten with a mortal wound, Forward, and cast herself upon the ground At Adam's feet; half-rising in despair, Hic from our arms she wildly strove to tear; Repelled by gentle violence, she pressed His powerless hand to her convulsive breast, And kneeling, bending o'er him, full of fears, Warm on his bosom showered her silent tears, Light to his eyes at that refreshment caine, They opened on her in a transient flame;

-And art thou here my Life! my Love!' he cried,
'Faithful in death to this congenial side?
Thus let me bind thee to my breaking heart,
One dear, one bitter moment, ere we part.
-Leave, me not, Adam! leave me not below;
With thee I tarry, or with thee I go.'

She said, and yielding to his faint embrace,
Clung round his neck, and wept upon his face.
Alarming recollection soon returned,
His fevered frame with growing anguish burned:
Ah! then, as nature's tenderest impulse wrought,
With fond solicitude of love she sought
To sooth his limbs upon their grassy bed,
And make the pillow easy to his head;
She wiped his reeking temples with her hair;
She shook the leaves to stir the sleeping air;
Moistened his lips with kisses: with her breath
Vainly essayed to quell the fire of death,
That ran and revelled through his swollen veins
With quicker pulses, and severer pains.

"The sun, in summer majesty on high,
Darted his fierce effulgence down the sky;
Yet dimmed and blunted were the dazzling rays,
His orb expanded through a dreary haze,
And, circled with a red portentous zone,
He looked in sickly horror from his throne;
The vital air was still; the torrid heat
Oppressed our hearts, that labored hard to beat.
When higher noon had shrunk the lessening shade,
Thence to his home our father we conveyed,
And stretched him, pillowed with his latest sheaves,
On a fresh couch of green and fragrant leaves.
Here, though his sufferings through the glen were knows
We chose to watch his dying bed alone,
Eve, Seth, and I.-In vain he sighed for rest,
And oft his meek complainings thus expressed:
- Blow on me, Wind! I faint with heat! O bring
Delicious water from the deepest spring;
Your sunless shadow o'er my limbs diffuse,
Ye cedars! wash me cold with midnight dews.
-Cheer me, my friends! with looks of kindnes cheer
Whisper a word of comfort in mine ear;
Those sorrowing faces fill my soul with gloom;
This silence is the silence of the tomb.
Thither I hasten; help me on my way;

O sing to sooth me, and to strengthen, pray!
We sang to sooth him-hopeless was the song;
We prayed to strengthen him-he grew not strong.
In vain from every herb, and fruit, and flower,
Of cordial sweetness, or of healing power,
We pressed the virtue; no terrestrial balm
Nature's dissolving agony could calm.
Thus as the day declined, the fell disease
Eclipsed the light of life by slow degrees:
Yet while his pangs grew sharper, more resigned,
More self-collected, grew the sufferer's mind;
Patient of heart, though racked at every pore,
The righteous penalty of sin he bore;
Not his the fortitude that mocks at pains,
But that which feels them most, and yet sustains.
"Tis just, 'tis merciful,' we heard him say;
"Yet wherefore hath he turned his face away?
I see him not; I hear him not; I call;
My God! my God! support me, or I fall.'

"The sun went down, amid an angry glare
Of flushing clouds, that crimsoned all the air;
The winds brake loose; the forest boug is were torn,
And dark aloof the eddying foliage bort e;
Cattle to shelter scudded in affright;
The florid evening vanished into night:
Then burst the hurricane upon the vale,
In peals of thunder, and thick-volleyed hail;
Prone rushing rain with torrents whelaed the land,
Our cot amid a river seemed to stand;
Around its base, the foamy-crested streams
Flashed through the darkness to the lightning's gleam
With menstrous throes an earthquake heaved the groun
The rocks were rent, the mountains trembled round;
Never since nature into being came,

Had such mysterious motion shook her frame,