Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come Before Messiah, and his way prepare! I, as all others, to his baptism came, Which I believed was from above; but he Straight knew me, and with loudest voice proclaimed Me him (for it was shewn him so from Heaven)— Me him whose harbinger he was; and first Refused on me his baptism to confer, As much his greater, and was hardly won. But, as I rose out of the laving stream, 280 Heaven opened her eternal doors, from whence The Spirit descended on me like a Dove; And last, the sum of all, my Father’s voice, Audibly heard from Heaven, pronounced me his, Me his beloved Son, in whom alone He was well pleased: by which I knew the time Now full, that I no more should live obscure, But openly begin, as best becomes The authority which I derived from Heaven. And now by some strong motion I am led 290 Into this wilderness; to what intent I learn not yet. Perhaps I need not know; For what concerns my knowledge God reveals.” So spake our Morning Star, then in his rise, And, looking round, on every side beheld A pathless desert, dusk with horrid shades. The way he came, not having marked return, Was difficult, by human steps untrod; And he still on was led, but with such thoughts Accompanied of things past and to come 300 Lodged in his breast as well might recommend Such solitude before choicest society. Full forty days he passed—whether on hill Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night Under the covert of some ancient oak Or cedar to defend him from the dew, Or harboured in one cave, is not revealed; Nor tasted human food, nor hunger felt, Till those days ended; hungered then at last Among wild beasts. They at his sight grew mild, 310 Nor sleeping him nor waking harmed; his walk The fiery serpent fled and noxious worm; The lion and fierce tiger glared aloof. But now an aged man in rural weeds, Following, as seemed, the quest of some stray eye, Or withered sticks to gather, which might serve Against a winter’s day, when winds blow keen, To warm him wet returned from field at eve, He saw approach; who first with curious eye Perused him, then with words thus uttered spake:— 320 “Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this place, So far from path or road of men, who pass In troop or caravan? for single none Durst ever, who returned, and dropt not here His carcass, pined with hunger and with droughth. I ask the rather, and the more admire, For that to me thou seem’st the man whom late Our new baptizing Prophet at the ford Of Jordan honoured so, and called thee Son Of God. I saw and heard, for we sometimes 330 Who dwell this wild, constrained by want, come forth To town or village nigh (nighest is far), Where aught we hear, and curious are to hear, What happens new; fame also finds us out.” To whom the Son of God:—“Who brought me hither Will bring me hence; no other guide I seek.” “By miracle he may,” replied the swain; “What other way I see not; for we here