O Conscience, into what Abyss of fears And horrors hast thou driv'n me; out of which I find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd! Thus ADAM to himself lamented loud Through the still Night, now now, as ere man fell, Wholsom and cool, and mild, but with black Air Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom, Which to his evil Conscience represented All things with double terror: On the ground Outstretcht he lay, on the cold ground, and oft Curs'd his Creation, Death as oft accus'd Of tardie execution, since denounc't The day of his offence.

Why comes not Death, Said hee, with one thrice acceptable stroke To end me?
Shall Truth fail to keep her word, Justice Divine not hast'n to be just?
But Death comes not at call, Justice Divine Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries.

O Woods, O Fountains, Hillocks, Dales and Bowrs, VVith other echo farr I taught your Shades To answer, and resound farr other Song.

VVhom thus afflicted when sad EVE beheld, Desolate where she sate, approaching nigh, Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd: But her with stern regard he thus repell'd.

Out of my sight, thou Serpent, that name best Befits thee with him leagu'd, thy self as false And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape, Like his, and colour Serpentine may shew Thy inward fraud, to warn all Creatures from thee Henceforth; least that too heav'nly form, pretended To hellish falshood, snare them.