The GREAT BIRTH of MAN.  
Or, The Excellency of Man's Creation and Endowments Above the Original of WOMAN.  
A Poem.  
The Second Edition.  
By M. S.  

licenced, August 7. 1686.  
Roger L'Estrange.   
LONDON: Printed for J. M. and Sold by John tailor at the Ship in St. Pauls Church-yard. 1688.   

To the Reader.  
Reader,  
I Do not conceal my Name for fear of critics, for I have known so few of them good Poets, that I have no Cause to envy them, much less will their Snarling anger me, for I ever esteemed that below my Anger, that was below my Envy. Nor is it that I think I have displeased the Female Sex, for the Prudent will own our Birth superior to theirs, what seems satirical on them at the latter End, is only what we may suppose Adam had cause to say from the Treach'ry of Eve: But the true Reason of concealing myself, is, That my Book was importuned into the World before I had brought it to that Perfection which a second Review might have done. Nor thought I fit to expose my Friends Names( who honour me with their Compliments at the Beginning) to that which I was not willing to be seen in myself; Therefore, Reader, judge of it according to thy Skill in Poetry, and the Ingenuity of thy Temper: But if thou wilt not prefer it to thy Friends, or encourage it Abroad, Know, I do not value myself by the Sale of it, to the World, since a Bunyan may have more Editions than a Cowley.  
M. S.   

To my Friend on his Poem.  

ARise, my Muse, and take thy Lyre,  
whilst thou art warmed with his Fire;  
Catching the Notions which do throng  
About his powerful, charming Tongue:  
And sing his worth in his own Phrase,  
For thine are all below his Praise.   

Thy Lines, like Lovers Sighs, are soft,  
Yet soar, with gilded wings, aloft!  
A Majesty they bare Divine,  
And Glory's in each Sentence shine.   

When on your Verse I think, and You,  
I bid the World, a while, Adieu;  
For to Celestial Joys, I'm caught,  
And Pleasures much too big for Thought.  
So full and crowded is your Brain,  
Without one Line, or Word in vain;  
That it requires a nimble Flight,  
To think as fast, as you can writ.  
But Friendship flattery denies,  
And Virtue Parasites defies;  
Then lest the World may think I raise,  
( Who know you not) a flattering Praise,  
I'll force my Muse to stop her rhyme,  
And think, where speaking is a Crime.   
R. C.   

To his worthy Friend Mr. M. S. upon his Poem.  
SIR, when your Verse and lofty Style I meet,  
Numbers so great, and Concord heavenly sweet;  
ravished I am, the very Man you name,  
What Passion e're you writ, I feel the same.  
And when of heavenly Joys you writ, I'd swore,  
That all the while you wrote, yourself was there:  
But when of those i'th' cursed Abodes do dwell,  
Pardon, my Friend, I thought you was in Hell:  
So Dismally those Hellish Flames you paint,  
Enough to bring a Trembling on a Saint.  
When Blood'intents you writ, you make me start,  
And think I see a Dagger at my Heart.  
But when with softer charming Language, You  
Fall like the heavenly Manna, or the due.  
If Eve's Temptations in such powers did dwell?  
I cannot( Grandsire) think it strange you fell;  
Nor could an Angel, almost, keep his Sphere,  
And such a charming beaut'ous Creature hear.  
In brief, You make the Reader what you please,  
Torment him as you will, or give him Ease:  
You swallow up his Soul, and Senses quiter,  
whilst he has power to act but as you writ.  
R. L. of Lincolns-Inn.   

To the AUTHOR.  

SIR, when your Noble Verse I red,  
Upon the Starry Heav'ns I tread,  
And Suns do shine about my Head.   

They're polished all so Fair, and Bright,  
Full of such vigour, Heat, and Light,  
All mixing Profit with Delight.   

Sir like your Charming Self, they be,  
Such Sweetness mixed with Majesty,  
So full of sparkish gaiety.   

That heaven did never yet Bestow,  
Its Gifts more plent'ously below,  
On any Minion than on you.   

But since your Book conceals your Name,  
If those Endowments I proclaim,  
The World will know at whom I aim.   
J. D.   

To Mr. M. S.  
SHould I pretend to sing your Praise,  
'Twould more debase your Style, then Raise,  
And with my nonsense, all the world Amaze.  
No Helicon does me Inspire,  
Ile only warm me at your Fire,  
And since I can't Praise, stand still and admire.  
T. R. of Grays-Inn.   

To his Friend Mr. M. S.  
MY Friend, I'll not pretend the least your Praise,  
Or any Monumental Trophys Raise;  
The best Encomiums I could Sing, would be  
Inferior much, both to thy Style, and Thee:  
I'll ask thine Enemies what they can say,  
And their Obscurity will Blaze thy Day:  
Their blackest Envy, make The Brighter far,  
Than Sable Night, can make a glittering Star.  
And when the Infl'ence of their Envy's spent,  
They shall Confess Thee, a Pure Ornament:  
aclowledge Thee in every thing complete,  
An Humble Mind, with Actions Nobly Great.  
T. S.   

To Mr. M. S.  
OF all things, Sir, I hate a Parasite,  
Nor think it is t'advance your Book I writ;  
Or bring the least pretended Praise, to show  
That your Illustrious famed to Me you owe.  
No: 'Tis Self-Int'rest drives me on, for I  
Know those that live with you must never die:  
My Ends I seek, not yours, when these I give,  
'Cause in your Deathless Poems I would ever Live.  
J. L.   

The GREAT BIRTH of MAN: Or, The Excellency of Man's Creation and Endowments Above the Original of WOMAN.  

WHen from profound Abyss of endless Thought,  
( Which all things always to Perfection brought)  
Man( the great Object of Omnipotence,  
A Soul informed with the Divinest sense,  
Made like a God, both Masculine, and Brave,  
designed the Empire of the World to have:)  
Was formed; the Universe straight bowed, to show  
Th'obedience to this God on Earth they owe.  
Th' admiring Angels triumphed with loud Airs,  
To see a Shape Divine, joined to a Soul like theirs.  
A greater Minion to the Deity,  
Capable of Reprieve, when they must be  
Hav'ng Fallen Once, damned to Eternity.   

Thus did this Blissful Creature ev'rywhere,  
Walk with Respect, through the perfumed Air:  
whilst all the Creatures, Humble Subjects were.  
The Grove's sweet Quiri●●ers with wa●bling Throats,  
echo Man's Glory, in seraphic Notes  
The generous lions, and the Gentle Fauns,  
The Wolves, and Lambs upon the Verdant Lawns,  
All Birds, which in the airy Main do fly,  
And Fish, which nimbly cut the liquid Sky,  
Join Sports so fine their Monarch to divert:  
As if their Natures were advanced by Art.  
The Fields with Flora's Pride all covered were,  
The Trees, Fruit-like, the Golden Ore did ba●e.  
The Tune-full wind his ravished Spirits cheers,  
Joins joyful Consort, to th' harmonious Spheres.  
All Nature smil●d with amicable Pride,  
Immortal Love, and thousand Joys beside,  
whilst He in unexhausted blessed Delights,  
Drinks down large Bowls of Pleasures Days and Nights.  
Years hand in hand, with comely place advance,  
Nor pass they on, but in a measured Dance  
Return again, for in Heav'ns mighty roll,  
His Youth's designed Immortal as his Soul.  
The lofty Subject of his follow'ng Days,  
Was to exalt th' Eternal Being's Praise:  
Which he performed with such a Pride, and Fear,  
As did become a Soul so great, and such a God to hear.   

The mighty Thund'rer, from his lofty Throne,  
beholded the whole Creation, but found none,  
So great an Object of his Love, as this  
Extract of Forms, Heir to Celestial Bliss,  
And said:   

We Miriads have of Cherubins attend  
Our spacious Throne, on every Errand sand  
Legions of Angels, but Man hath not yet  
Attendants, which his mighty Birth do fit:  
We'll make a Creature, but we'll not create,  
Since Man consummates all th' intents of Fate:  
And were the Birth like his, the growing Pride  
Which still attends the base, would deride  
His Sov'rain Sway, and that Priority,  
Which always shows the Rights of Majesty.  
Yet high than other Creatures, whom we'll call,  
Woman, a Copy from th' Original.   

straight Adam sleeps, a well-spar'd Rib is wrought  
Into a Creature, ne're till now in thought.  
Thus was her Birth inferior much to show,  
What great Submission to her Lord she'd owe.  
His was a pure Creation, Hers alone  
Species transformed, a Woman from a Bone:  
He's born immediately of God, her Birth  
Is but from him, a little of his Earth:  
Her Elements and Substance from him, He  
Had all his Substance of the Deity:  
Let us make Man( said God) and summoned all  
The mighty Powers which attend his Call:  
But She, till all was perfect, was not known,  
Made an Attendant, to Man's spacious Throne.   

Man saw the Form, and though not perfect made  
Like his, yet Speech, and Reason had, and said:   

Since you our other Creatures do surmount,  
We'll trust You Steward of Our great Account:  
Tell you the Secrets of our Heart, and know  
Of all the Trees, which in our Garden grow,  
With Freedom taste, but that i'th' Middle stands,  
Taste not, nor Touch, 'tis God's and our Commands.  
The rest for Food, and Pleasure are more fit,  
A certain Death about this three does sit.  
He spake, She bowed, and with Submission said,  
My Sov'rain, your just Pleasure is obeyed;  
They part, Man to extol th' Eterna'ls Love,  
And She to view the Pleasures of the Grove.   

But thinks and wonders what this Fruit may be,  
Longing to see this strange Forbidden three:  
I see no Fruit but what's Divinely Fair,  
Fit for such Trees, th'almighty plants to bare:  
But where's this dismal three, this fatal Fruit,  
That ugly Death should lurk about the Root.  
I am forbidden, therefore long to know,  
O that some unknown power, would quickly show,  
Free from Man's Sight, I'd fear not Death's poor strife,  
My Face, and Features should secure my Life!   

There is a Place beneath the solid Earth,  
Lower than where the Min'rals have their birth:  
Beneath deep Caverns, hide from Titan's Eye,  
Where fierce Aeolian Tyrants, Chained lie:  
Beneath the silent Chambers of the Dead,  
And deepest Caves, where cruel Satyrs Tread:  
Beneath th' Originals of deepest Fountains,  
Beneath the Sea's large Floor, and Roots of Mountains:  
It is the Palace, and the cursed Abodes,  
Of Lucifer, and all th' Infernal Gods:  
banished for towering Pride, Celestial Thrones,  
And damned to Tortures, and Eternal groans.  
With scorching Pangs, through Fiery Darkness, they  
roll, and Blaspheme the smallest glimpse of Day.  
Screechings, and Howls are all the music there,  
Groans too severe for Flesh and Blood to bare:  
With startling Horror, crowned, and mad Despair.  
Strong sulphurous Stenches, with their loathsome Smell,  
Enough to make the purest Air a Hell.  
Hot scalding Rivers, filled with liquid Fire:  
And Souls to suffer, which can ne'er Expire.  
Then are they plunged in Snow and Ice all o'er,  
Reeking with Heat, and sweeting Drops of Gore.  
The Grand Usurper of angelic Race  
By Birth, but now without one Mark of Grace:  
The Empire of these Regions ever held,  
Since he against the only Great rebelled.  
With vast expanded Pride, He and the Rest,  
Dare the Immortals Thund'rers Throne Molest:  
Attempting sovereignty, and scorned their odds,  
All would be Fiends, if all could not be Gods.  
Heav'ns angry Monarch, with dread Thunder hurled  
These desp'rate Fiends, into th' Infernal World:  
Since which, they envy those lost Thrones, and try  
To Damn the rest, by cursed Treachery.   

Whilst Lucifer observed the World Above,  
And found the Object of Eternal Love:  
Brave generous Man, but knew it was in vain,  
To tempt his Constancy, his Wiser Brain,  
Would search each black Design, with prying Eyes,  
Find the most deep intrigue, through each Disguise.  
His Sacrifices, whilst his Heart ne'er strayed,  
With blessed Acceptance, every day he paid:  
Gladly received what e're his Maker Taught,  
Nor would Transgress so much as in his Thought.   

But when he'd Woman found, he soon did spy  
Her Lustful Heart, and Longings of her Eye.  
Her Liqu'rish Palate, loving what was Gay,  
With sprightly Birds, and pretty Lambs would Play:  
Seek fragrant Smells, and then she'd fall in Love  
With her own Face, whilst in some shady Grove,  
Making a mirror of a Fountain, where  
Sh'd kiss her Shade, and curl her Silver Hair.  
Longing for things Forbid, nor 'll be denied:  
And what most pleased the Fiend, She was all Pride.  
Said He, this easy softness never can  
Withstand Temptations, like more solid Man.   

A Serpents Form he took, the Comel'est shape  
heaven suffered, that it might prevent a Rape:  
heaven knew that Beauty easily would Charm,  
This hid'ous Monster might Her Soul Alarm.  
The Fiend Blasphemes to have a shape so foul;  
Seeing his ugly carcase after roll:  
My Plots( said he) are damned, but Hold, I'll Try,  
'Tis Woman, Foolish Woman, she shall die.   

straight leaves these loathsome Regions, to repair  
To paradise, and breath the vernal Air.  
The Garden enters, all the Place looks sad;  
Birds fall down Dead before him, Beasts run mad:  
Th' Earth where he rolls, all scorched, and poisoned seems  
And sulphurous Vapours, belches out in streams.  
His Eyes are Flames, his Jaws look black and pale;  
And in Huge Circles, drags his thundering Tail.  
The Woman startled at a Shape so Foul;  
Her Body for a while, dismissed her Soul.  
When it return'd, said She, What Monstrous Birth,  
Art thou that comest to Pollute the Earth?  
From what Black Shades? With that his dismal jaws  
Divide, and from his Trunk a horrid noise:  
I'm come, said he, to ease your Longing Eyes;  
To show the three, where all Perfection lies.  
The three Forbid. O where? said She;   Serp. 
Behold!  
The three i'th' midst, which shines like beaten Gold.  Wom. 
Is that the three which looks so Lovely? Where,  
Pale Death lies couchant, poisons centred are?  
My greedy Eyes did long to See, but more  
I Long to Taste, than did to See before.  
Oh how it Tempts? But Ah my Destiny!  
I must not Taste the Fruit, for fear I die.  Serp. 
die? ay you will, a most delicious Death,  
die? so's to double every blast of Breath.  
You'll more Immortal be by Eating This;  
Quenching your Appetite with Rapes of Bliss.  
Quaff with large Gusts, the Essence of Delight:  
And be more heavenly Fair, more heavenly Bright.  
Your present Form, you will Excel, as Far  
As Heav'ns Illustrious Lamp, a little Star.  
You'll leave dull Earth, for a Celestial Throne:  
And Reign of heaven the Glorious Queen alone.  
Perfumes more Fragrant hourly, than the East  
In Thousand years can give, you'll Smell and taste  
Rich Nectar from full Clusters, all Divine,  
Of Grapes, which in the heavenly Vineyard Shine.  
Play with the phoenix, and such Birds as are  
plumed with the Rainbows Colours, but more fair.  
embroidered Fields, Groves Damask'd with bright Beams,  
Banks all enameled, and transparent Streams.  
Your Trains will drag with ' thousand Stars, while they  
Who'll bear them up, are Angels bright as day.  
Taste every Rapture of the Joys Above,  
And Tall, Bright Gods, will make Immortal Love  
Th' enjoyment of that Love will:  Wom. 

O forbear,  
My Soul as yet's not big enough to hear:  
Thô too large for its Prison 't does appear.  
Methinks I'm mounted on th'Imperial Seat,  
And Crowns and sceptres play about my Feet.  
And now I tread the spangled Milky way,  
And bring where e're I come, Illustrious Day.  
Cherubins curl my Golden Locks, whilst I  
Command Attendants, with my sparkling Eye.  
Beauty enjoy to that height of Excess,  
As Gods can give, for I'll accept no less.  
Alas! Poor Adam, now I shall be more  
Your sovereign, than you was mine before.  
Your narrow Soul, like mine, durst not Aspire,  
Nor is't composed of such a Noble Fire.  
I wisely at the first, begin to know:  
My younger days, a riper judgement show;  
And what my future, swelling Joys excel;  
I ever shall be young, and ever thus shall Dwell.  
Dig on, Poor Man, nor shall you know our odds,  
well keep our distance, like our Fellow Gods.   

This said, She clim'd the three, more swift than Thought,  
And down the fairest, largest Apple brought:  
Eats it with greediness, when soon, Alas!  
Away these Gilded, Airy Visions, pass.  
Her Eyes are opened, finds Her self undone,  
Sees Her Immortal Thread is almost spun.  
Ah Fool! What Happiness thou'st lost for toys,  
What solid Good, for visionary Joys?  
T'affront that God, which made Thee of a Bone,  
For such a Worm, to Crawl upon his Throne.  
My Beauty's blasted, all my Honor's fled,  
My Glory's gone, m'ambitious Spirit's Dead.  
O! whither shall I fly, where seek for Aid,  
What sad retreat, more dark than Hell's black shade?  
Will cover my vile Soul? that heaven mayn't find  
A Body cursed, with such a wretched Mind  
Sharp thrilling Terrors, pierce my wounded Soul  
Mountains of Sorrow's on my Spirits roll.  
My Heart with Anguish bursts, my Head with Cares,  
I'm racked with Horrors, plunged in deep despairs.  
Undone, Forlorn, Forsaken, and accursed:  
Come, Fiends assist me, now I'll do the worst  
Hell can inspire me with, To Man I'll go,  
And for a while dissemble all my woe.  
He's Inn'cent yet; my treacherous Tongue shall try▪  
To make him equal in the villainy.  
Nay, all Hell's powers I challenge to design,  
A Plot so Black, so Base, so damned as mine.  
I'll gilled each poisoned Pill, till He's Took All,  
Then laugh to see him Part'ners in the Fall.   

Now crack ye Poles, unhinge ye Heav'ns, and shake  
Ye mighty Arches, let the whole World Quake:  
In Sable Clouds, stand still O Sun, and Mourn;  
Let Mountains from their Roots, with Storms be torn.  
The Ocean with its weighty Billows Roar,  
Tumbling in heaps upon the groaning shore,  
To see a Prodigy, so vilely great,  
Baffles the Blood'st Birth of Pregnant Fate.  
A Crime, that Hell itself might blushy to own:  
A Crime till now, amongst the damned not known.  
That One should ruin a whole World, and bring  
Curses on All, and Death's severest sting.  
That Woman, when through Lust and Pride she'd lost  
All that could Comfort and Enjoyment boast:  
Rather than to repent her Sin, should try  
T'undo Man too, by ' er Hellish Treachery.  
Curse all Her Offspring, Nay to act a dead,  
Which after, made the God of Nature Bleed.   

Prepare now Adam, Hell and Earth design  
Thy Sacrifice, and prayers to countermine.  
Thy Soul is wrapped in Sacred Innocence,  
Guilty of no Ambition, or Pretence  
To any's interest, but thy Makers, while  
In blessed Returns, the Gracious Heav'ns do smile.  
Thou seest the Honour of Submission, where,  
Angels themselves are proud to have a share.  
Hatest the foul Contagion of a Thought,  
Which mayn't be to bright Virtues Touchstone brought.   

To add a Comfort to thy foll'wing Days,  
Thy God hath made a Helper, which may raise  
Thy bright Devotion, a free Agent, who  
Hath power to be as Innocent as you.  
What mighty Transports of refreshing Joy,  
Dost thou expect, Poor Man, from this frail Toy.  
Mistaken Adam, She's Lost all, Undone  
Betwixt a Morning and an evening Sun.  
Her treacherous M●lice too, hath blackened more  
Her Soul, than Hell, and Lust, and Pride before.  
A Cup of Poison charged to the brim,  
She's now preparing, though above may swim  
Fair Gilded Bubbles, Glor'ous, Bright and Gay,  
A Pleasant Prologue, to a tragic Play.   

Her Looks She pleasantly composes, while  
Her rosy Cheeks are dimpled to a Smile.  
Her Beaut'ous Hair, with Careless Artful Pride  
Is loosely spread, and all her Charms beside,  
Most vigorous made, t'assault Man's Thoughtless Heart  
Fearing no Hurt, 'cause Guilt of no ill Art.  
Her Tongue, that Magazine of Dagger, where  
Base Murders, treacherous Falshoods, harbor'd are,  
Is smoothly Oil'd, that charming cursed Cheat,  
Pecul'ar to the Sex, must do the Feat.  
O gilded sepulchre! O fair Outside!  
What Sin and largeness within dost hid.   

Thus with like hast She flies, to Man, or more,  
Than when She climbed the fatal three before.  
And said:   

My dearest Master, what Varieties  
Of pleasant Objects, bless our wandering Eyes?  
What heaps of Blessings, ev'rywhere we see,  
Gifts of a good, and bount'ous Deity?  
Mellifluous Groves, such pleasant Fruit do bare,  
And Blossoms, which perfume the wanton Air.  
Rich Plains, with fragrant flowers, and painted Pride,  
Bright Streams, with thousand Pleasures more beside.  
The humble Flocks and Herds with wonder view  
Their glorious Sov'rain, which, sweet Sir, is You.   Adam. 
'Tis true, we find the great Effects each where  
Of our great Master's fervent Love and Care.  
What ravished Hallelujahs should we sing,  
To be such Subjects of so good a King?  Eve. 
And all so Loyally do kiss your Shrine,  
As if they all had Souls, informed like mine,  
Which is s'intirely yours, without all Art,  
Who'd ripp out Duty, must ripp up my Heart.  Adam. 
When I alone dwelled on the spacious Earth,  
Before your beaut'ous Innocence had Birth:  
I was all Happiness, but now have more,  
From your sweet L●yal Love, than all before.  Eve. 
Your dut'ous Carriage to your mighty Lord,  
Does me so rich a Precedent afford,  
My Heart may Bears and cruel Monsters tear,  
When Adam, dearest Adam, is not there.  
Nay more, then what a greater Curse can't be,  
Soul of my Life, mayst thou ne're think on me.  Adam. 
My days thus spent in innocent delight,  
Ye Heav'ns, what Joys you bless me with at Night.  Eve. 
But if such Pleasure here we have in Love,  
What mighty Raptures they enjoy above?  
If Earthly paradise so pleasant is,  
Then what an ecstasy is heavenly Bliss?  Adam. 
As when some Mountain, on a Cottage rolls,  
So would those Pleasures overwhelm our Souls.  
We are not capable to think, much less  
To taste Enjoyment of so vast Excess.  
'Tis Happiness enough, for us to know  
The joyful Blessings we receive below.  Eve. 
Last evening when the Hills long shadows cast,  
The Air refreshed with now, and then a Blast;  
In the cool shades, on flowery Grass I lay,  
To see the Kids and Lambs together play:  
Soon by the gentle murm'rings of the Streams,  
I fell asleep, and had these pleasant Dreams.  
Methoughts I'd overflowings, and flew above the Clouds,  
Met glor'ous Angels in transparent Shrouds:  
Said they, what Ign'rance makes you thus disgrace  
The Constitution of your God-like Race?  
Your Birth is Noble, though th'Improvement Base.  
What clogs your Soul? 'tis Elemental Fire,  
Give it but Leave, like Ours, it will aspire.  
I waked, and though I found it but a Dream,  
Methoughts the Subject was a pleasant theme;  
And show our Souls related were to theirs,  
( If suffered to enlarge) above the Spheres.  Adam. 
Eve, you mistake the Cause, that Transport is  
Only the sweet Effects of present Bliss  Eve. 
Not so, my Lord, for soon the Truth I knew,  
The Dreams, like Oracles, I did pursue:  
And bring thee joyful News, will make you more  
Above yourself, than 'bove the Beasts before.  Adam. 
With what glad tidings dost my Soul surprise,  
Did God accept my morning Sacrifice?  
Indeed the Wind my Incense seemed to bare,  
With swelling Streams, through the perfumed Air,  
The Sky serene, all happy Omens, while  
The Heav'ns, to show Acceptance, seemed to smile.  Eve. 
Better: Thou shalt no more i'th' Garden lurk,  
To dig the Ground [ Adam] hath God found other work:  
whate'er his Pleasure is, my Soul's resigned,  
T' observe the Dictates of his blessed Mind.  Eve. 
Nor that: Thou know'st a fatal three there is,  
Not to be touched, without the loss of Bliss.  Adam. 
'Tis true: [ Eve] But hath not God made all things Good?  
'Tis Nought if useless, sure't must be for Food:  
If so, the Fallen Ange●s never can  
Enter a Place so Sacred made to Man.  
Then it must be the blessed Angels Meat,  
Such as the glor'ous Cherubins do eat.  Adam. 
No Eve, 'tis poison, deadly poison, where  
Death, and all other Evils harbor'd are.  
And were it not a certain Evil, He  
Who gave so large, would ne're deny a three.  Eve. 
Why did not He, whose Love's to Man so pure,  
This evil three by fenced Walls secure?  
That Man might not be Tempted, when it might  
As easily been Planted, out of sight.  Adam. 
He's planted Walls, his strict Commands, those powers,  
To the Obedient, are the strongest towers.  Eve. 
An Evil must defective be; He said,  
He saw his Works, and saw all Perfect made.  Adam. 
The like Perfection may be in this three,  
The Crime may onely Disobedience be:  
And, this excepted, He forbids us None;  
Sure for a Thousand, we may give Him One.  Eve. 
I rather think, when God had made the Soul,  
To try if any threatenings would control  
So great a Being, generous, Free, and Brave,  
How like itself, itself it would behave:  
Thus tried his Boldness, to see how refined,  
From his gross Body, was his God-like Mind.  
Say should I try?  [ Adam] 
Let not a Thought so foul,  
For thousand Worlds, Immaculate your Soul.  Eve. 
Why Adam, What were you the worse for this?  
If I Fall, 'twill but more confirm your Bliss;  
But Fall I can't, heaven never hath designed,  
A Fault so small, the ruin of Mankind.  
Who such a Noble Work, as Man, begun,  
Won't for One Apple, see him quiter undone.  Adam. 
We must not in his secret councils prie,  
It is enough, He said, You'll surely die.  Eve. 
But what's this Death?  [ Adam] 
It is a Curse, which will  
loathsome Corruption, through your Blood, instil:  
Consume your Limbs, your Face turn black, and foul,  
And Fear and Horror seize your Guilty Soul.  Eve. 
How look I now?  [ Adam] 
All Glorious, Bright, and Gay,  
Sweet as the Morning, Innocent as Day.  Eve. 
See Adam then your fond Mistake, for I,  
ventured the Fruit, and found the Fallacy:  
ventured the seeming threatenings of dark Fate,  
Not out of Pride, but Dear, to make thee Great.  Adam. 
Eat of the Fruit, which in the Middle stands,  
Not to be touched, by Gods and our Commands?  Eve. 

I eat the Fruit, If Faith your Eyes you'll give,  
You see I'm Fair, and Innocent, and live.  
Nay, my enlarged Soul, you see, aspires,  
cherished and fed with much Diviner Fires.  
'Tis on the wing, I hate my earthly Clod,  
And onely stay, to make Thee too, a God.  
This is the Fruit which God, and Angels eat,  
This is the great Ambrosia, heavenly Meat.  
The three which Knowledge gives, and that which can  
Make an Immortal God, of Noble Man.  
God therefore hath Forbid'n, well did he know,  
Eating this Fruit, weed scorn to dwell below,  
Claiming Celestial Thrones, there'd be no odds,  
We also should be numbered 'mongst the Gods.   

He fright'ned us with dreadful Death, alone  
To keep off Rivals, from his Sacred Throne.  
And would persuade the meanness of our Birth;  
Pretending you was Made of common Earth,  
When 'twas of heavenly Seed, which fell below,  
And will aspire, when It begins to know.  
And I Made of a Bone, but had you been  
Awake, it might confirm my Birth so mean.  
Then Taste, Bold Man, and grow a God like me,  
Taste, and for ever Great, and Glorious be.   

You'll cease to be a gardener here, and fly  
On marbled Clouds, above the starry Sky.  
Tread the arched Roofs of heaven, refulgent, bright,  
With Raptures, and ineffable Delight.  
The Spheres, in ravished Notes, will sound your Praise,  
Your Youth be as Immortal, as your Days;  
Angels, to You, will Hallelujahs sing,  
And May continue, with eternal Spring.  
Wisdom will flow like the unbounded Main,  
And sacred Raptures, from your pregnant Brain.  
Mir'ads of Cherubins attend your Crown,  
And the high-sounding spheres with echoes drown.  
Command the Magazines of Hail and Snow,  
sand as you please your Thunderbolts below.  
Whilst heaven and Earth Obey your Sacred Nod:  
And thus you'll grow a perfect Glorious God.   Adam. 
Your Soul seems strang'ly inspired with news so Great,  
And you already out of reach of Fate.  
But how can you retard your heavenly Joy,  
And with dull Earth, your soaring Spirit cloy?  Eve. 
Crown of my Glory, Soul of my Delight,  
Who has to all m' Enjoyments, Truest Right:  
For whom at first I ventured Soul, and ●ll,  
To raise Thee, or secure Thee from a Fall:  
The cause of my Delaying's only This,  
To take Thee with me to those floods of Bliss.  
I should a stranger to those Joys appear,  
Nor'd heaven be heaven, and Dearest thou not there.  Adam. 
Of such great Kindness, Constancy and Love,  
None can be capable, but Souls above.  
Such Raptures show a Mind inspired from heaven.  
Her Face more Bright and charming Looks, and then  
Her spotless Soul most innocent appears,  
So far from Death, she seems not touched with fears.  
Besides, my wise Creator, thought fit She,  
A Helper should, as well as Comfort be.  
Perhaps indulgent heaven, designed in this,  
By Her to help me to th'eternal Bliss.  
I'll venture on it, but say, should I die?  Eve; 

You see a Precedent before your Eye:  
Then quickly Taste, the three is fresh and green,  
At Night 't may die, and never more be seen.   

This said, his trembling Hands, the fatal Meat  
She gave, and with Embraces forced to Eat:  
His Eyes as soon are opened, up he starts,  
His Soul seems struck, and pierced with thousand Darts.  
A shiv'ring seizes all his Limbs, His Face  
Looks Pale, and Black with Sadness, and Disgrace.  
Heav'ns former Kindnesses his Soul upbraid:  
Whilst to the Worlds Great Murd'rer thus he said:   

ha Eve! is this Your Zeal to me, and Love?  
Is this Your heaven, and Happiness Above?  
These the effects of your Embraces, while  
My cheated Heart was charmed with a smile?  
Is this the hazard of your Soul, for me?  
Is this your Faith, and Truth, and Constancy?  
H●h Wom n! and is this your Company?  
Better Companions much were Beasts, for then  
I might not 'ave seen a cursed Race of Men.  
I was all Happiness before your Birth,  
enjoyed with Pleasure all the spacious Earth;  
All Creatures Honesty, with Faith repaid,  
Nothing in Nature false, till You was made.  
Those Blissful Days have left me now forlorn,  
betrayed by Her, who from my Side was Born;  
So near my Heart, and yet so false to prove?  
So treacherous to such Const●ncy of Love.  
Nor am I only ruined to your shane,  
But future Worlds will Curse your Blasted Name.   

O! for thy sake, that Mankind ne're had been,  
Nor Earth, polluted with so gross a Sin:  
Or that my Body would to atoms turn,  
Rather than still to Live, and still to Mourn.  
My days must now draw Out in tedious Grief,  
Nor angered heaven, will stoop to give Relief:  
No Never, Never, Can I look for more  
Heav'ns Cheering Smiles, and Favours as before.  
But still in some dark Grove's obscurest skulk,  
With Melancholy Sadness, ever stalk,  
Till to my former Earth, I turn, and go,  
With Sorrow to th'infernal Shades below.   

This said, the aweful roaring Thunder broken,  
The trembling Heav'ns, and thus th' Eternal spoken;  
Where art Thou Man?   [ Adam.] 

I found myself undone,  
And to the Thickets for a shelter Run,  
To hid from thy Just Wrath, Great God, for She  
Thou Gavest, Tempt'd me to the fatal three.  
Said God: And since you'l condescend to Hear,  
Your Subject Creature, henceforth shall you Tear  
The Rocky Earth, with Pain, and Sweaty Brow:  
And Thorns and Thistles every where shall grow.  
But thou, O Woman! since thou darest Disgrace,  
Our Noble Image, and our Godlike Race:  
To Tempt Beloved Man, his Faith to slain,  
Thou shalt endure intolerable pain,  
Thy Pleasure shall be dearly bought, for when  
We please to Multiply our stock of Men:  
As often as thou giv'st a Being Breath,  
So often shalt thou feel the Pangs of Death.  
And since your mean Posterious Birth could not,  
Keep your presumptuous Mind, from such a Plot:  
Know 'tis our Pleasure, Ratifi'd in heaven,  
Strickest Obedience you shall pay to Men.  
All your desires, in his just power shall rest,  
To suffer, as his judgement thinks it best.  
'Tis our Command, who Grasp the Worlds great Ball,  
That Man shall be the Sov'rain Lord of all.   

But Man, we'll nere forget our former Love,  
Which in the midst of judgement still does move;  
I'll sand my Son, who though a Deity,  
Shall suffer Deaths severest Pangs for Thee:  
Taking thy Shape, and Sex upon him, thus  
As thou the Lively Image bearest of Us,  
One Woman too we'll Honour, from the Earth,  
Whose heaven touched Womb, shall give this Saviour Birth,  
And thus we will renew our League with Man,  
And give him heaven, although here but a Span.   

He spake, the Heav'ns with Holy Anthems sound,  
Repeating echoes, Sacred Noises Drown.  
All places with Mans Happiness do Ring:  
Whilst all the Hosts of heaven do Hallelujahs Sing.   

Thus Man again resumes his Glory, all  
The Blessings he enjoyed before the Fall.  
Looking on Eve, by whom he was betrayed,  
To future Worlds, this Caveat left, and said;   

Take heed Posterity, and Learn from Me,  
What dangerous Treach'rys in false Women be.  
Secure yourselves by Countermining Arts,  
Lest they blow up, or else betray your Hearts.  
Take heed, for when, like Crocodiles, their Tears  
Do gently Fall, than's greatest cause of Fears:  
Then their deceitful Hearts design a Prey,  
And in the midst of seeming pity Slay.  
And if they Charm you once within their power,  
They'll sweetly Sing, like Syrens, to Devour.   

That Pride which cast down Lucifer from heaven,  
And was by Foolish Eve renewed again,  
Will ever in depraved Woman Reign.  
Nor their Ambition, shall whole Worlds suffice,  
Nay Hell as soon be Glutted, as their Eyes:  
Through Blood and sacrilege, 'twill make its way,  
And be as Violent as the Raging Sea.  
They'll long for things because they are denied,  
To show their Folly's equal with their Pride:  
Excepting where some mischiefs the intent,  
Then tyrants sharper Wit, does Mans prevent;  
Their being practised in such wicked Arts,  
Gives the advantage to their weaker Parts.  
Take heed( my future Sons) or you'l too late,  
With dear Experience, buy your Heavy Fate.   
FINIS.