They, looking back, all the eastern side beheldOf Paradise, so late their happy seat,Waved over by that flaming brand, the gateWith dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms:Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon;The world was all before them, where to chooseTheir place of rest, and Providence their guide;They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,Through Eden took their solitary way.
-John Milton
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