294. PARADISE LOST. BooK A long day's dying to augment our pain And to our feed (0 haplefs feed I) dcriv'd. 965 To whom thus Eve, recov'ring heart, reply'd. Adam, by fed experiment, I know How little weight my words with thee can find, Found lo erroneous ; thence by jolt event Found fo unfortunate ; nevertheiefs, 970 Reftor'd by thee, (vile as I am !) to place Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain Thy love (;he foie contentment of my heart Living or dying) from thee I will not hide What thoughts in my unquiet brealt are risen 975 Tending to fome relief of our extremes, Or end, though (harp and lad, yet tolerable As in our evils, and of eatier choice. If care of our defcent perplex us moil, Which mutt be born to certain woe, devour'd 98o By Death at laft, (and milerable it is To be to others caufe of mifery, Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring Into this curled world a woeful race ; That after wretched life mull be at fait 985 Food for fo foul a montler :) in thy pow'r It lies yet, e'er conception, to prevent The race unbleft, to Being yet unbegot. Childlefs thou art, childlets remain ; lo Death Shall be deceiv'd his glut ; and with us two 990 forc'd to tatisfy his rav'nous maw. But if thou judge it hard and difficult, Convetfing, looking, loving, to abflain From love's due rites, nuptial embraces fweet, And with delire to languith without hope, Before the prefent object languifhing With like defire (which would be mifery, 995 And
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