University of Virginia Library

THE MASQUE.

Enter, on the right, personated by Angels, the High-Priest and Priests of the Temple, with censers and silver trumpets, followed by Virgins of the Sanctuary with harps and tabrets. Advancing towards Our Lady all make solemn obeisance.
HIGH-PRIEST.
[Taking a thurible, he solemnly incenses Our Lady as she lies asleep; after which Priests and Virgins arrange themselves as chorus on the right side of the Court, facing Our Lady.

SCENE I.

The fountain ceases to play; and the Cloister at the end of the Court slowly parting exhibits, as on a stage, a melancholy prospect of rock and desert, veiled in mysterious gloom.
Enter Eve, personated by an angel, in a raiment of many colours, grace fully wrought of delicate furs and plumage.
EVE.
Adam, where art thou? O return, return.
Too long hast thou been absent from my side
Searching the wild for fruits so scanty here,
So plentiful in Eden's happy clime!
Adam, where art thou? Ah, in vain I call;
No voice responds; and o'er the hideous waste
Chaotic silence broods; save when a blast
Far pealing from the stormy clarions
Of sworded Cherubim, from earth to heaven
Reverberates our doom. O misery!
O misery of miseries,—to think,
But yesterday in Paradise! and now
Outcasts of nature, to the wrath exposed
Of all creation by our Fall aggrieved!
Nor less of furious demons raging round,
Unchain'd by our own act. But worse than all,
Far worse than outward elemental wrack,
Far worse than brutal or Satanic rage,
Is this conflicting storm I feel within,
Deep in my central being, such as never
I felt before in Paradisal days.
O loss supreme! O loss unutterable
Of grace divine, our Maker's noblest boon
To nature superadded! This departed,
I feel a very ruin of myself;
A strife of inward spiritual elements
Each furiously against the other turn'd,
And wrestling in the darken'd soul's abyss.
Ah, wilful and perverse! who, not content
With that unmerited beatitude
So freely by creative love bestow'd,
Ambitiously must lend an eager ear
To the deceiving Serpent; and partake
Of the forbidden tree; and break the law
Our Maker gave us; and prevail with Adam
To break it also; and had no touch of pity
For generations to be born of me,
Who through perpetual ages shall proclaim
Their Mother cursed among all womankind,
Partakers of her guilt and penalty.
[Casting herself on the sand.
O parent earth, receive me! Dust I am,
And into dust I must again return;
So runs the sentence. Oh, that here it might
Find its fulfilment—happier far to die
Now in Creation's morning, than live on
To be a fount of countless miseries
To countless beings through all future time!
So might the Lord another Eve create,
Another Eve far better than the first,
Far better and more wise; who should not sin
As the first sinn'd. So might the Lord from her
Ordain another race of humankind,
Not to be born in sin, as must be born
All who are born of me. Ah, what if this
Which now I feel,—this faintness stealing o'er me,—
Ah, what if this be death! O Adam, Adam!
Haste to thy dying spouse; make haste to speak
Forgiveness of the past, and to enfold
Thy partner in a last embrace of love.

[She sinks in a swoon, Solemn silence. Presently a soft Eolian melancholy music springs up, mingled with the distant moaning of wild-beasts, plaintive notes of birds, the sighing of winds, and other doleful sounds. After which Voices overhead, as in a colloquy.
FIRST VOICE.
Hark, how all creation moans
In a thousand piteous tones,
Wailing its untimely fall
From a state celestial!
See for sylvan lawns appear
Arid wastes of desert drear!
See the world a ruin lie,
All through Eve's apostasy!

SECOND VOICE.
Lord, how long shall be the time
Ere the guilt of Adam's crime
Shall from nature be removed
In the smile of Thy Beloved?
When shall justice dawn again?
When shall peace eternal reign?
When again on earth shall be
Truth and true felicity?

THIRD VOICE.
When his weakness man has shown
In his native strength alone;
When the world is worn and old;
When its faith is dead and cold;
When o'er sacred Carmel's head
Forty centuries have sped;
When a Virgin shall be born,
Like the rose without a thorn,
Wholly free from Adam's stain;—
Then shall justice dawn again;
Then again the waste shall bloom
As a lily from the tomb;
Heaven re-open in the skies,
Earth renew its Paradise.

[Eve slowly wakes; and gazing round with terror, sobs vehemently.
Enter the Archangel Gabriel, bearing an olive-branch and some fruits of the desert.
GABRIEL.
Hail, Mother of all ages! fontal source
Of humankind, who shall from thee become
A multitudinous river, surging on,
In ever-widening and majestic flood,
Into the ocean of eternity!
Weep not, O Eve!—I come to comfort thee.
In proof of which behold this olive-branch,
Earnest of peace restored, and brighter days.
Know that, among all miseries, despair
Closing the gate of mercy is the worst.
Rise, then, and be consoled; and eat of what
I bring thee. Little yet suspectest thou
How much thy natural frame has been impair'd,
Immortal once by grace, and with the help
Of life's immortal tree; but now, alas,
As left in its own native feebleness,
By slightest effort wearied; and throughout
Corruptible with latent germs of death.
These fruits, less exquisite indeed than those
Of Paradise, are yet, so mercy wills,
Best suited to repair thy wasted strength.

[He offers her fruit
EVE
(rising).
O thou, whose form,
So radiantly bright, proclaims thee one
Of Heav'n's high Princes, I would eat, but grief
Forbids me,—grief, and keen solicitude
For woe-worn Adam. At the break of dawn
He wander'd forth, leaving me strict command
Not to forsake the circuit of these rocks;
And now the evening shades are closing round
Without a sign of his desired return.
What if some beast have rent his tender flesh!
Or on his head the vivid thunderbolt
Have fallen unawares! or, sadder still,
What if in strong aversion he has left
His guilty Eve; and sought him out a nook
In some far region, there to pine and die
Safe from her hateful sight! Say, holy Angel,
If haply you have chanced to cross his path
Upon the borders of th' inclement waste?
For I am troubled at his lengthen'd stay.

GABRIEL.
But now I came upon him, as he sate,
His hands upon his forehead tightly clasp'd,
Beneath a solitary juniper,
On a high sandy hillock, gazing far
Across the plain in meditative mood,
And breathing forth his lamentable sighs
Upon th' unsympathising desert space,
In fond remembrance of lost Paradise.
Some comfort, as I think, I minister'd,
Bearer of welcome news; and have the same
For thee, when thou hast tasted of the fruit
He sends by me,—his poor love-offering,
Cull'd with laborious and painful search
From the rude bosom of the wilderness,
Not without wounds from many a prickly thorn.
Himself had come, but that his jaded limbs
Refused their task.

EVE
(eating of the fruit).
Thanks, heavenly messenger, for those dear words
That tell me Adam lives, and still can love
The guilty origin of all his ills.
And thanks again to Adam and to thee
For this repast, too good for fallen Eve.
Already, with no small surprise I feel
In body as in mind my strength revived.
And now, declare, I pray, what consolation
Is this thou bringest? How can comfort be,
Where all is gloom and blank despondency?

GABRIEL.

EVE.
O happiness!
Kind Angel, let us go without delay.
Lead on; I follow thee.

GABRIEL.
To Adam first
We bend our steps; he also is permitted
To see this blissful sight, that so your joy
United may be greater. Yet, O Eve,
When of these visionary scenes ye drink,
Deem not that ye behold the things themselves,
Or aught beside a semblance shadow'd forth
By angel ministries, beneath the veil
Of outward shapes; as suits your fallen state,
Whose now beclouded soul, enslaved to earth
By its own fatal and rebellious choice,
Its heavenly intuitions half-obscured,
Henceforth, so long as it inhabits flesh,
Must be content by earthly images
To picture to its gaze immortal things.
Nay Heav'n itself, could it be brought before
Your feeble vision, would perforce assume
The bulky outline of material forms,
Its essence pure escaping human reach.

[He leads Eve across the desert. As they advance, the sandy waste begins to assume a verdant tint, blue sky appears, and a balmy breeze springs up.
GABRIEL.
See, Eve, already how the wilderness
Is casting off its late funereal garb,
And all in vernal beauty decks itself—
Emblem of hope revived, and happier times.
Onward! the furthest spot to human speed
Is little distant if an Angel lead.

[Exeunt Gabriel and Eve.
A brilliant mirage rises at the end of the Court, representing, by way of drop-scene, Jerusalem and its Temple as in the age of Solomon; meanwhile the Chorus of Priests and Virgins sings alternately as follows:
PRIESTS.
On Sion's hill a Temple stands,
No toilsome work of human hands:
A Temple beauteous in design,
Replete with mysteries divine:
A Temple of eternal fame;
And Mary is its mystic name.

VIRGINS.
Or ere the skyey dome was rear'd;
Or ere the mountain-tops appear'd;
Or ere the raging sea was chain'd;
The Lord this Temple had ordain'd:
And its secure foundations laid
Before the Seraphim were made.

PRIESTS.
Deep in His counsels all divine,
In silence grew the lovely shrine;
In silence rear'd aloft its head,
And like the fragrant cedar spread,
That keeps from age to age its throne
Upon the heights of Lebanon.

VIRGINS.
What in the night of times gone by
Was ever in th' eternal Eye,
Now in the world's reviving morn
Begins on human sight to dawn;
Our hands have touch'd, our eyes behold,
This Temple of pellucid gold.

PRIESTS.
Still with the tide of onward time
Expanding in a growth sublime,
Soon shall its heritage extend
Throughout the world from end to end,
And gather into one embrace
The Jewish and the Gentile race.

VIRGINS.
Hail, sacrosanct intact abode
Created for Incarnate God!
Hail, shrine incomprehensible,
In which the Father's Word shall dwell!
Hail, Virgin, free from Adam's curse!
Hail, Temple of the universe!

PRIESTS.
Ah, could we but a moment spy,
Thy glorious inner Sanctuary;
What miracles would meet our gaze,
Exceeding all that earth displays!
Such as befit the Palace bright
Preparing for the Infinite.

VIRGINS.
Ah, could we view the altar fair,
That glistens so divinely there;
Could we but scent the incense sweet
That hovers round that mercy-seat;
Could we but hear the lovely song,
Which evermore those aisles prolong;—

PRIESTS AND VIRGINS TOGETHER.
Then should we all perforce avow
That Heav'n itself had come below;
In order that the Lord of grace
Might find on earth a fitting place
Whence—in depths of ruin hurl'd—
To reorganise the world!

SCENE II.

The mirage dissolving reveals a grassy terrace looking upon an open space, in the midst of which rises Mount Moria.
Enter the Archangel Gabriel, conducting Adam and Eve.
GABRIEL.
Lo, where it stands; the sacred table-land
And Mount of Vision promised to your gaze!
Behold its fair foundations lifted high
Upon the summits of the holy hills;
Figure of her, whose sanctity begins
Where others terminate. Behold, behold,
The Mount of mounts: Heav'n's sacred vestibule,
Jerusalem's fair seat in future days,
Predestined habitation of the Lord,
Where He shall dwell for ages, and well-pleased
Incense and holy sacrifice receive;
Umbrageous now, and in the glory clad
Of late creation; but in after-times,
When o'er the world a roaring flood has swept,
Far different to appear! There shall ye see,
Upon its verdant heaven-embracing floor,
Your Child in glory immarcessible
Sitting enthroned beneath the mystic shade
Of Life's ambrosial Tree—Mother elect
Of Life and all who live: and there shall view,
Before her with exultant pæans throng,
Gather'd from all the onward centuries,
The Patriarchal train, of which already
As hitherward we came, ye saw the skirts
Winding along the valley's further side;
And heard its herald note of victory
Peal from a thousand trumpets with a blast
That shook the realms of chaos and of night.
And now, farewell: henceforth ye need me not,
O fountain-heads august of all mankind!
Sufficient of yourselves to find the way.

[He vanishes.
ADAM.
How sudden was his parting! such the gift
Of incorporeal natures. Fare thee well,
Bright Messenger of peace! and bear aloft
To other worlds the tale of Adam's fall,
To be their warning through the tracts of time.
Come, Eve, rejoice with me in this fair scene.
O contrast exquisite
With that interminable desert waste
Which late we trod! Ah, what an odorous waft
Of Paradisal perfume hither steals
From shrubs innumerous, whose circlet fair
Encompasses as with a flowery belt
The Mount of God. O balm ineffable,
At which mine eyes, that seem'd as adamant,
In blissful tears dissolve! Hail, sacred hill!
Hail, second Eden, fairer than the first!
Be quick, my best beloved; let us press on,
And mount without delay yon gracious stair
Of Heaven-ascending heights, lest with a breath
The vision melt before our yearning eyes,
And leave us doubly desolate.

EVE.
Bethink thee,
My Adam, with what face can we appear
In that most holy vestibule, disrobed
As here we stand, of our first innocence?
Such is the fear that in my bosom thrills.

ADAM.
And rightly, had we no sure confidence
Elsewhere obtain'd. But, O my timorous Eve,
These honourable vestments clothing us,
So delicately wrought in fairest form
And exquisite variety of tint,
Lovely adornments from the loving hand
Of God Himself—what else are they but tokens
Exterior of a new interior grace,
Infused within us through the priceless merits
Of Him who is to come? In this array'd,
Though of ourselves most wholly miserable,
We have no cause for shame. Why, then, delay
His counsel to fulfil who brought us hither?

EVE.
Adam thy will is mine. Too much already
Has disobedience cost us. Lead thou on;
My heart is burning with desire to see
The sacred Virgin to be born of me.

[Exeunt Adam and Eve.
A mirage as before, representing Rome as in the age of Augustus.
PRIESTS.
Ere yet primeval Chaos reign'd;
Ere matter yet had form obtain'd;
Far in the Empyrean height
A vacant Throne of purest light
Aloft o'er worlds angelic raised
In solitary glory blazed.

VIRGINS.
The Seraphs, from the topmost tier
That girdles Heav'n's eternal sphere,
With awe the distant wonder eyed,
And vainly to interpret tried;
No creature worthy could they see
To sit in such high majesty.

PRIESTS.
But not in vain th' Eternal Mind
Hath its eternal scheme design'd;
Now, therefore, in the midst of years
This Child immaculate appears,
Worthy alone of all to fill
That Throne so inaccessible!

VIRGINS.
Hail, Mary, purest Gem of earth!
Hail, child of grace before thy birth!
Whose path from grace to grace ascends,
And in supremest glory ends.
Hail, Daughter of th' Eternal King,
From whom the Life of life shall spring!

PRIESTS.
O, how for thee the Angels sigh,
Eager to waft thee to the sky!
Too long to them the days appear
That yet detain thee captive here;
Where, quench'd in mists of earth below,
Thy rays of glory dimly glow.

VIRGINS.
Ascend, ascend, Imperial Queen!
Forsake this limitary scene;
Forsake this lower darksome place
Which guilt and misery deface:
A higher world invites thee on
To splendour and dominion!

PRIESTS AND VIRGINS TOGETHER.
Ascend, ascend, Imperial Queen!
Ascend, and plead the cause of men!
Ascend, and reign upon the Throne
Predestinated thine alone!
Ascend, where none before have trod!
Ascend, the Mother of thy God!

SCENE III.

Summit of the Mount of Vision, exhibiting a spacious flowery mead surrounded by cedars. In the midst, the Tree of Life; beneath which, personated by an angel, appears Mary, as a child, in a raiment of blue and gold, seated on a throne with steps of sapphire, crowned, and sceptre in hand.
Enter Adam and Eve.
EVE
(clasping Mary's feet.)
O most Immaculate Maid,
Virgin ineffable! Pure child of God!
Transcendent marvel of the universe!
Beauty and glory of the human race!
Effacing all the shame of womankind!
See at thy feet poor miserable Eve;
And hear the parents to their daughter sue
For pardon and for peace. O joy of joys!
Felicity unhoped! to see thy face,
Who shalt repair the ruin that I made;
Else irremediable. By Eva's crime
Came sin, came death, came deathly slavery
To Satan and to sin; but Eva's daughter,
Bridging the cruel gulf her mother made,
Opens to all mankind a second path
To Paradise and life's immortal Tree.
Hail, second Eve, far better than the first!
Hail, Virgin pre-elect! Virgin conceived
In Adam's nature, not in Adam's sin;
That so to all mankind thou mightest be
A new beginning of new life in Him
Who comes through thee for Adam to atone.
Hail, Archetype of all that loveliest is,
Sweetest, most perfect, best, and heav'nliest!
Of whom our Eden but a figure was.
Lily of incorruption! Life in death!
Abyss of grace! remember that from us
Thou didst that elemental substance take
Wherewith thou shalt—O marvel infinite!
The Incorporeal with corporeal clothe,
And on the uncreated Word bestow
A second nature's origin, so becoming
Mother of God, and Empress of the world!
Remember that to our sad fall thou owest
Thy peerless glory; and with gracious eye
Look down upon thy parents here before thee,
Here as they kneel, most lovely and beloved:
And stretch thy gentle hand, and wipe away
Their mournful tears; and lift them up again;
And whisper in their hearts eternal peace.

MARY
(rising, and kissing Eve on the forehead).
Hail, parents dear!
O weep no more, and cease your piteous sighs;
And praise with me the goodness of our God;
His heights unsearchable
Of wisdom and of love;
Who on His lowly handmaid gazed;
And her from empty nothing raised;
And chose her in His grace to be
Mother of Immortality;
Mother of His Eternal Son:
Not for her own sake alone,
But for the sake of you and all mankind;
For whom, in His omniscient mind,
Before the worlds were made, this mercy He design'd.
Who, pitying our first Parents' fall,
And in their fate the fate of all,
The penalty their guilt had earn'd
Hath into greater glory turn'd;
And deign'd to crush the serpent's head
Beneath a feeble maiden's tread.
Now therefore, parents dear,
Lament no more; but, with a joyful heart,
Ascend these steps, and sit beside your child;
And know that ye are here most opportunely,
To aid her in receiving with due grace
The glad Procession now upon its way;
Coming, with songs of triumph jubilant,
To offer thanks in Sion this fair morn
In homage of that love, which, in the depth
Of everlasting ages, fix'd on her
Its pitying gaze; and chose her from the mass
Of old corruption, and predestined her,
And called her in the plenitude of times,
To be the mother of the Son of God
In whom alone is all redemption found.

[She embraces our first Parents; and taking them by the hand, makes them sit down on the uppermost step of the throne, Adam on her right, and Eve on her left.
A mirage, as before, representing Athens and sea-coast.

PRIESTS.
Hail, thou first-begotten Daughter
Of th' Almighty Father's love;
Temple of eternal glory,
Pure and spotless turtle-dove;
Mistress of the earth and skies,
Choicest bud of Paradise!

VIRGINS.
Hail to her, whose deep foundations
On the holy hills are laid;
Joy of endless generations,
Loved before the worlds were made;
Treasure of believing souls
While the wheel of ages rolls!

PRIESTS.
Garden of divinest odours;
Roseate shell of purest ray,
Where the priceless pearl of heaven
Waited its appointed day,
Nestling in repose sublime
Down beneath the wave of time!

VIRGINS.
Cloud of supramundane splendour,
Cloud, that in its awful womb
Bears the Father's hidden lightning,
Bears the thunderbolt of doom;
O'er the world in mighty power
Comes to shed the Spirit's shower!

PRIESTS.
Who can count the starry jewels
Set in Mary's crown of light?
Who can estimate her greatness?
Who can guess her glory's height?
What can measure its extent
Save the depth of God's descent?

VIRGINS.
Hail, O Queen of nature's kingdoms,
Queen of Angels, hail to thee!
Greater none have been before thee,
Greater none shall ever be:
Hail, divine Receptacle
Of th' Incomprehensible!

PRIESTS.
Thee the God of worlds foreseeing
In thy dignity supreme,
Loved thee, chose thee, gave thee being,
Set thee in salvation's scheme;
Then with all perfections deck'd,
As His Mother pre-elect.

VIRGINS.
Thine shall be a lot surpassing
All that is of glory known
In the earth or in the heavens,—
Thine, but not for thee alone;
God, in whom thy life began,
Made thee for Himself and man.

PRIESTS.
God and man in thee uniting,
Death in thee by life o'ercome;
Creature with Creator blending,
Man remoulded in thy womb;—
Such, O peerless Child, shall be
Thy prolific history.

VIRGINS.
Fount of wonders ever flowing!
Glory of the sea and sky!
How for thee th' eternal mansions
Waiting yearn and yearning sigh
Envying earth the moments slow
That detain thee here below.

PRIESTS.
Bird of Paradisal beauty,
Silver Dove with wings of gold,
Pity thy dear native Heaven,
And thy fragrant plumes unfold;
Quickly, quickly, speed thy flight
Up to crystal realms of light.

PRIESTS AND VIRGINS TOGETHER.
There for poor unhappy mortals
Thy immortal Son implore,
There in beatific glory
Reign with Him for evermore;
Through the ages all along
Theme of sempiternal song!

SCENE IV.

Summit of the Mount of Vision as before; Mary on her throne, with Adam and Eve on either side.
Peal of trumpets, and enter first part of Procession: Abel, bearing a lamb in his bosom; then Seth, Henoch with his Book, Mathusala, and other antediluvian Patriarchs, with long white beards; last of all Noe, walking as it were in the midst of a rainbow, and carrying a pattern of the Ark in gold, with a dove upon its roof. On arriving before the throne, the Procession stops.
HENOCH.
Hail, Desire of the first world!

THE REST.
Hail, Amaze of the ages to come!

NOE.

[Mary smiles a gracious assent; and giving her sceptre to Eve, rises and sings.

MARY'S SONG.

[The Procession moves on.
Peal of trumpets, and enter Melchisedech, gorgeously vested as High Priest and King of Salem, bearing a Paten and Chalice of gold; whom follows the Father of the Faithful, attended by Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph; then, between Aaron and their sister Mary, Moses, bearing the two tables of stone; after whom Josue and warriors, succeeded by Ruth and maidens as gleaners. Last of all King David as a shepherd-boy, with his harp.
MELCHISEDECH.
Hail, Queen of Salem!

THE REST.
Hail, Vision of peace!

DAVID
(accompanying himself on his harp).
[The Procession moves on.

Peal of trumpets, and enter King Ezechias, bearing a lily-like flower; succeeded by other Kings of Judah, all royally arrayed; after whom Judith and attendant women, with cymbals and timbrels, moving to a solemn measure.
EZECHIAS.
Hail, Glory of Jerusalem!

THE REST.
Hail, Delight of Israel!

JUDITH.
[The Procession moves on.

Peal of trumpets, and enter to martial music, with banners, escorted by troops of war diversly arrayed, Allegorical Personifications of the Four Great Empires, on triumphal Cars drawn by yoked lions, leopards, and other emblematic animals; then Isaias and the other Prophets; Daniel last, bearing a scroll in his hand.
ISAIAS.
Hail Virgin who shalt conceive! Alleluia.

THE REST.
And bear a Son. Alleluia.

DANIEL.

At the end of the procession appear, with palms in their hands, the Hermits of Mount Carmel, conducting six ethereal steeds, which draw after them the Car of Elias, marvellously glistering. Seated in the car is seen the Archangel Gabriel.

SONG OF THE HERMITS OF MOUNT CARMEL.

[On arriving in front of the throne, the Car stops.
GABRIEL
(descending).
O brighter than all brightness, living Altar
Of light's pure temple, Joy exuberant
Of all the patriarchs, Queen of Palestine,
And splendour of the New Jerusalem!
Know that in honour of thy birth this day
Thy loving Angels and true Guardians hold
In Paradise High Feast, which in their name
I supplicate thy sceptred majesty
With its imperial presence to adorn.
In hope whereof, this empyrean car
(Once only touch'd by mortal foot, what time
It bore Elias through the fields of space)
Attends thy bidding. See, its fiery steeds,
Already, of their happy task aware,
Curvet, impatient for their precious freight.

MARY.
My soul hath fainted for the living Courts
Of my eternal King. Most joyfully
I go with you; this only boon entreating,
That I may bring with me these sacred Parents
Here seated at my side.

GABRIEL.
Lady, not yet is it permitted them
To pass beyond this outer vestibule;
But when the long-desired Emmanuel,
Of them through Thee hereafter to be born,
In his atoning life-blood shall have paid
For Thee and them and all of human kind
Super-exceeding ransom on the Cross;
And re-estated all things in Himself,
Opening to life eterne the door long closed;
Then shalt Thou have thy will, O Heavenly Bride,
And see these Parents ever at thy side.

[Mary, with a tender smile of pity and hope embracing our First Parents, ascends the Car, which majestically moves forward, Adam and Eve gazing wistfully after her.
EVE.
Farewell, O bright Perfection! vain it were
To follow after thee. O Adam, mark
How o'er our Mount of Vision
Dim monitory clouds come stealing down;
And all its tinted glories pale away
So exquisite before. 'Tis time, methinks,
That we descend.

ADAM.
Yes, it is even so.
Dense and more dense the vapour gathers fast,
From th' upper air insensibly distill'd,
As 'twere a veil let down to segregate
From sublunary gaze immortal things.
Give me thy hand, O Eve, my sole beloved,
And ere within its folds voluminous
The storm our perilous descent obscure,
Leave we Moria's enigmatic hill,
Hereafter by the grace of our dear Heir
From Mary born, hoping to be received
Into the sacred Sion of the skies,
When turn'd in death to our original dust
Again from dust we rise, created new
For new and more divine felicity
(Such my reliance on redeeming love)
Than that by disobedience forfeited.
At present in the world our portion lies
There to toil on in faith and hopeful love
Through good and evil mingled; till at length
Our lifelong penance o'er we go our way
Into the place appointed; there to wait,
In patience of subdued expectancy,
The joyful coming of Salvation's Morn!

[They descend the hill.