he cypress which waves o'er them;
Half open, from beneath them the clear blue
Laughs out, although in slumber. He must dream-- 30
Of what? Of Paradise!--Aye! dream of it,
My disinherited boy! 'Tis but a dream;
For never more thyself, thy sons, nor fathers,
Shall walk in that forbidden place of joy!

_Adah_. Dear Cain! Nay, do not whisper o'er our son
Such melancholy yearnings o'er the past:
Why wilt thou always mourn for Paradise?
Can we not make another?

_Cain_. Where?

_Adah_. Here, or
Where'er thou wilt: where'er thou art, I feel not
The want of this so much regretted Eden. 40
Have I not thee--our boy--our sire, and brother,
And Zillah--our sweet sister, and our Eve,
To whom we owe so much besides our birth?

_Cain_. Yes--Death, too, is amongst the debts we owe her.

_Adah_. Cain! that proud Spirit, who withdrew thee hence,
Hath saddened thine still deeper. I had hoped
The promised wonders which thou hast beheld,
Visions, thou say'st, of past and present worlds,
Would have composed thy mind into the calm
Of a contented knowledge; but I see 50
Thy guide hath done thee evil: still I thank him,
And can forgive him all, that he so soon
Hath given thee back to us.

_Cain_. So soon?

_Adah_. 'Tis scarcely
Two hours since ye departed: two _long_ hours
To _me_, but only _hours_ upon the sun.

_Cain_. And yet I have approached that sun, and seen
Worlds which he once shone on, and never more
Shall light; and worlds he never lit: methought
Years had rolled o'er my absence.

_Adah_. Hardly hours.

_Cain_. The mind then hath capacity of time, 60
And measures it by that which it beholds,
Pleasing or painful[126]; little or almighty.
I had beheld the immemorial works
Of endless beings; skirred extinguished worlds;
And, gazing on eternity, methought
I had borrowed more by a few drops of ages
From its immensity: but now I feel
My littleness again. Well said the Spirit,
That I was nothing!

_Adah_. Wherefore said he so?
Jehovah said not that.

_Cain_. No: _he_ contents him