The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear 
So charming left his voice, that he a while 
Thought him still speaking, still stood fixed to hear; 
Then, as new waked, thus gratefully replied. 
What thanks sufficient, or what recompence 
Equal, have I to render thee, divine 
Historian, who thus largely hast allayed 
The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsafed 
This friendly condescension to relate 
Things, else by me unsearchable; now heard 
With wonder, but delight, and, as is due, 
With glory attributed to the high 
Creator! Something yet of doubt remains, 
Which only thy solution can resolve. 
When I behold this goodly frame, this world, 
Of Heaven and Earth consisting; and compute 
Their magnitudes; this Earth, a spot, a grain, 
An atom, with the firmament compared 
And all her numbered stars, that seem to roll 
Spaces incomprehensible, (for such 
Their distance argues, and their swift return 
Diurnal,) merely to officiate light 
Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot, 
One day and night; in all her vast survey 
Useless besides; reasoning I oft admire, 
How Nature wise and frugal could commit 
Such disproportions, with superfluous hand 
So many nobler bodies to create, 
Greater so manifold, to this one use, 
For aught appears, and on their orbs impose 
Such restless revolution day by day 
Repeated; while the sedentary Earth, 
That better might with far less compass move, 
Served by more noble than herself, attains 
Her end without least motion, and receives, 
As tribute, such a sumless journey brought 
Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light; 
Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails. 
So spake our sire, and by his countenance seemed 
Entering on studious thoughts abstruse; which Eve 
Perceiving, where she sat retired in sight, 
With lowliness majestick from her seat, 
And grace that won who saw to wish her stay, 
Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowers, 
To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom, 
Her nursery; they at her coming sprung, 
And, touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew. 
Yet went she not, as not with such discourse 
Delighted, or not capable her ear 
Of what was high: such pleasure she reserved, 
Adam relating, she sole auditress; 
Her husband the relater she preferred 
Before the Angel, and of him to ask 
Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix 
Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute 
With conjugal caresses: from his lip 
Not words alone pleased her. O! when meet now 
Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined? 
With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went, 
Not unattended; for on her, as Queen, 
A pomp of winning Graces waited still, 
And from about her shot darts of desire 
Into all eyes, to wish her still in sight. 
And Raphael now, to Adam's doubt proposed, 
Benevolent and facile thus replied. 
To ask or search, I blame thee not; for Heaven 
Is as the book of God before thee set, 
Wherein to read his wonderous works, and learn 
His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years: 
This to attain, whether Heaven move or Earth, 
Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest 
From Man or Angel the great Architect 
Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge 
His secrets to be scanned by them who ought 
Rather admire; or, if they list to try 
Conjecture, he his fabrick of the Heavens 
Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move 
His laughter at their quaint opinions wide 
Hereafter; when they come to model Heaven 
And calculate the stars, how they will wield 
The mighty frame; how build, unbuild, contrive 
To save appearances; how gird the sphere 
With centrick and eccentrick scribbled o'er, 
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb: 
Already by thy reasoning this I guess, 
Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest 
That bodies bright and greater should not serve 
The less not bright, nor Heaven such journeys run, 
Earth sitting still, when she alone receives 
The benefit: Consider first, that great 
Or bright infers not excellence: the Earth 
Though, in comparison of Heaven, so small, 
Nor glistering, may of solid good contain 
More plenty than the sun that barren shines; 
Whose virtue on itself works no effect, 
But in the fruitful Earth; there first received, 
His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. 
Yet not to Earth are those bright luminaries 
Officious; but to thee, Earth's habitant. 
And for the Heaven's wide circuit, let it speak 
The Maker's high magnificence, who built 
So spacious, and his line stretched out so far; 
That Man may know he dwells not in his own; 
An edifice too large for him to fill, 
Lodged in a small partition; and the rest 
Ordained for uses to his Lord best known. 
The swiftness of those circles attribute, 
Though numberles