Poem 10

thinking to evade The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God Hath wiselier armed his vengeful ire than so To be forestalled; much more I fear lest death So snatched will not exempt us from the pain We are by doom to pay; rather such acts Of contumacy will provoke the Highest To make death in us live. Then let us seek Some safer resolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to mind with heed Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise The Serpent’s head; piteous amends! unless Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe, Satan, who in the serpent hath contrived Against us this deceit. To crush his head Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost By death brought on ourselves, or childless days Resolved as thou proposest; so our foe Shall scape his punishment ordained, and we Instead shall double ours upon our heads. No more be mentioned then of violence Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness, That cuts us off from hope, and savours only Rancour and pride, impatience and despite, Reluctance against God and his just yoke Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild And gracious temper he both heard and judged, Without wrath or reviling; we expected Immediate dissolution, which we thought Was meant by death that day; when, lo! to thee Pains only in child-bearing were foretold, And bringing forth, soon recompensed with joy, Fruit of thy womb; on me the curse aslope Glanced on the ground: with labour I must earn My bread; what harm? Idleness had been worse; My labour will sustain me; and, lest cold Or heat should injure us, his timely care Hath, unbesought, provided, and his hands Clothed us unworthy, pitying while he judged; How much more, if we pray him, will his ear Be open, and his heart to pity incline, And teach us further by what means to shun The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow! Which now the sky with various face begins To show us in this mountain, while the winds Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks Of these fair spreading trees; which bids us seek Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish Our limbs benumbed, ere this diurnal star Leave cold the night, how we his gathered beams Reflected may with matter sere foment, Or by collision