Innocence Once Lost - Religious Classics Collection. Джон Мильтон

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СКАЧАТЬ ere in all its parts immeasurable

       The horizon of one aspect had become,

       And Night her boundless dispensation held,

      Each of us of a stair had made his bed;

       Because the nature of the mount took from us

       The power of climbing, more than the delight.

      Even as in ruminating passive grow

       The goats, who have been swift and venturesome

       Upon the mountain-tops ere they were fed,

      Hushed in the shadow, while the sun is hot,

       Watched by the herdsman, who upon his staff

       Is leaning, and in leaning tendeth them;

      And as the shepherd, lodging out of doors,

       Passes the night beside his quiet flock,

       Watching that no wild beast may scatter it,

      Such at that hour were we, all three of us,

       I like the goat, and like the herdsmen they,

       Begirt on this side and on that by rocks.

      Little could there be seen of things without;

       But through that little I beheld the stars

       More luminous and larger than their wont.

      Thus ruminating, and beholding these,

       Sleep seized upon me,—sleep, that oftentimes

       Before a deed is done has tidings of it.

      It was the hour, I think, when from the East

       First on the mountain Citherea beamed,

       Who with the fire of love seems always burning;

      Youthful and beautiful in dreams methought

       I saw a lady walking in a meadow,

       Gathering flowers; and singing she was saying:

      "Know whosoever may my name demand

       That I am Leah, and go moving round

       My beauteous hands to make myself a garland.

      To please me at the mirror, here I deck me,

       But never does my sister Rachel leave

       Her looking-glass, and sitteth all day long.

      To see her beauteous eyes as eager is she,

       As I am to adorn me with my hands;

       Her, seeing, and me, doing satisfies."

      And now before the antelucan splendours

       That unto pilgrims the more grateful rise,

       As, home-returning, less remote they lodge,

      The darkness fled away on every side,

       And slumber with it; whereupon I rose,

       Seeing already the great Masters risen.

      "That apple sweet, which through so many branches

       The care of mortals goeth in pursuit of,

       To-day shall put in peace thy hungerings."

      Speaking to me, Virgilius of such words

       As these made use; and never were there guerdons

       That could in pleasantness compare with these.

      Such longing upon longing came upon me

       To be above, that at each step thereafter

       For flight I felt in me the pinions growing.

      When underneath us was the stairway all

       Run o'er, and we were on the highest step,

       Virgilius fastened upon me his eyes,

      And said: "The temporal fire and the eternal,

       Son, thou hast seen, and to a place art come

       Where of myself no farther I discern.

      By intellect and art I here have brought thee;

       Take thine own pleasure for thy guide henceforth;

       Beyond the steep ways and the narrow art thou.

      Behold the sun, that shines upon thy forehead;

       Behold the grass, the flowerets, and the shrubs

       Which of itself alone this land produces.

      Until rejoicing come the beauteous eyes

       Which weeping caused me to come unto thee,

       Thou canst sit down, and thou canst walk among them.

      Expect no more or word or sign from me;

       Free and upright and sound is thy free-will,

       And error were it not to do its bidding;

      Thee o'er thyself I therefore crown and mitre!"

      XXVIII. The River Lethe. Matilda. The Nature of the Terrestrial Paradise.

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      Eager already to search in and round

       The heavenly forest, dense and living-green,

       Which tempered to the eyes the new-born day,

      Withouten more delay I left the bank,

       Taking the level country slowly, slowly

       Over the soil that everywhere breathes fragrance.

      A softly-breathing air, that no mutation

       Had in itself, upon the forehead smote me

       No heavier blow than of a gentle wind,

      Whereat the branches, lightly tremulous,

       Did all of them bow downward toward that side

       Where its first shadow casts the Holy Mountain;

      Yet not from their upright direction swayed,

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