Poem 9

So spake the Enemy of mankind, enclosed In serpent, inmate bad, and toward Eve Addressed his way⁠—not with indented wave, Prone on the ground, as since, but on his rear, Circular base of rising folds, that towered Fold above fold, a surging maze; his head Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes; With burnished neck of verdant gold, erect Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass Floated redundant. Pleasing was his shape And lovely; never since of serpent kind Lovelier; not those that in Illyria changed Hermione and Cadmus, or the god In Epidaurus; nor to which transformed Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline, was seen, He with Olympias, this with her who bore Scipio, the highth of Rome. With tract oblique At first, as one who sought access but feared To interrupt, sidelong he works his way. As when a ship by skilful steersman wrought Nigh river’s mouth or foreland, where the wind Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail: So varied he, and of his tortuous train Curled many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, To lure her eye; she, busied, heard the sound Of rustling leaves, but minded not, as used To such disport before her through the