So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found; Among the faithless, faithful only he.

Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth.

They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms: Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide; They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.

Ere the blabbing eastern scout, The nice morn, on th' Indian steep From her cabin'd loop-hole peep.

The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day.

Hail, wedded love, mysterious law; true source of human happiness.

I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of death.