|
|
| All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, |
|
|
| Through Heaven's wide champain held his way; till Morn, |
|
|
| Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand |
|
|
| Unbarred the gates of light. There is a cave |
|
|
| Within the mount of God, fast by his throne, |
|
|
| Where light and darkness in perpetual round |
|
|
| Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through Heaven |
|
|
| Grateful vicissitude, like day and night; |
|
|
| Light issues forth, and at the other door |
|
|
| Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour |
|
|
| To veil the Heaven, though darkness there might well |
|
|
| Seem twilight here: And now went forth the Morn |
|
|
| Such as in highest Heaven arrayed in gold |
|
|
| Empyreal; from before her vanished Night, |
|
|
| Shot through with orient beams; when all the plain |
|
|
| Covered with thick embattled squadrons bright, |
|
|
| Chariots, and flaming arms, and fiery steeds, |
|
|
| Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view: |
|
|
| War he perceived, war in procinct; and found |
|
|
| Already known what he for news had thought |
|
|
| To have reported: Gladly then he mixed |
|
|
| Among those friendly Powers, who him received |
|
|
| With joy and acclamations loud, that one, |
|
|
| That of so many myriads fallen, yet one |
|
|
| Returned not lost. On to the sacred hill |
|
|
| They led him high applauded, and present |
|
|
| Before the seat supreme; from whence a voice, |
|
|
| From midst a golden cloud, thus mild was heard. |
|
|
| Servant of God. Well done; well hast thou fought |
|
|
| The better fight, who single hast maintained |
|
|
| Against revolted multitudes the cause |
|
|
| Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms; |
|
|
| And for the testimony of truth hast borne |
|
|
| Universal reproach, far worse to bear |
|
|
| Than violence; for this was all thy care |
|
|
| To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds |
|
|
| Judged thee perverse: The easier conquest now |
|
|
| Remains thee, aided by this host of friends, |
|
|
| Back on thy foes more glorious to return, |
|
|
| Than scorned thou didst depart; and to subdue |
|
|
| By force, who reason for their law refuse, |
|
|
| Right reason for their law, and for their King |
|
|
| Messiah, who by right of merit reigns. |
|
|
| Go, Michael, of celestial armies prince, |
|
|
| And thou, in military prowess next, |
|
|
| Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons |
|
|
| Invincible; lead forth my armed Saints, |
|
|
| By thousands and by millions, ranged for fight, |
|
|
| Equal in number to that Godless crew |
|
|
| Rebellious: Them with fire and hostile arms |
|
|
| Fearless assault; and, to the brow of Heaven |
|
|
| Pursuing, drive them out from God and bliss, |
|
|
| Into their place of punishment, the gulf |
|
|
| Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide |
|
|
| His fiery Chaos to receive their fall. |
|
|
| So spake the Sovran Voice, and clouds began |
|
|
| To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll |
|
|
| In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign |
|
|
| Of wrath awaked; nor with less dread the loud |
|
|
| Ethereal trumpet from on high 'gan blow: |
|
|
| At which command the Powers militant, |
|
|
| That stood for Heaven, in mighty quadrate joined |
|
|
| Of union irresistible, moved on |
|
|
| In silence their bright legions, to the sound |
|
|
| Of instrumental harmony, that breathed |
|
|
| Heroick ardour to adventurous deeds |
|
|
| Under their God-like leaders, in the cause |
|
|
| Of God and his Messiah. On they move |
|
|
| Indissolubly firm; nor obvious hill, |
|
|
| Nor straitening vale, nor wood, nor stream, divides |
|
|
| Their perfect ranks; for high above the ground |
|
|
| Their march was, and the passive air upbore |
|
|
| Their nimble tread; as when the total kind |
|
|
| Of birds, in orderly array on wing, |
|
|
| Came summoned over Eden to receive |
|
|
| Their names of thee; so over many a tract |
|
|
| Of Heaven they marched, and many a province wide, |
|
|
| Tenfold the length of this terrene: At last, |
|
|
| Far in the horizon to the north appeared |
|
|
| From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretched |
|
|
| In battailous aspect, and nearer view |
|
|
| Bristled with upright beams innumerable |
|
|
| Of rigid spears, and helmets thronged, and shields |
|
|
| Various, with boastful argument portrayed, |
|
|
| The banded Powers of Satan hasting on |
|
|
| With furious expedition; for they weened |
|
|
| That self-same day, by fight or by surprise, |
|
|
| To win the mount of God, and on his throne |
|
|
| To set the Envier of his state, the proud |
|
|
| Aspirer; but their thoughts proved fond and vain |
|
|
| In the mid way: Though strange to us it seemed |
|
|
| At first, that Angel should with Angel war, |
|
|
| And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet |
|
|
| So oft in festivals of joy and love |
|
|
| Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire, |
|
|
| Hymning the Eternal Father: But the shout |
|
|
| Of battle now began, and rushing sound |
|
|
| Of onset ended soon each milder thought. |
|
|
| High in the midst, exalted as a God, |
|
|
| The Apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat, |
|
|
| Idol of majesty divine, enclosed |
|
|
| With flaming Cherubim, and golden shields; |
|
|
| Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now |
|
|
| "twixt host and host but narrow space was left, |
|
|
| A dreadful interval, and front to front |
|
|
| Presented stood in terrible array |
|
|
| Of hideous length: Before the cloudy van, |
|
|
| On the rough edge of battle ere it joined, |
|
|
| Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced, |
|
|
| Came towering, armed in adamant and gold; |
|
|
| Abdiel that sight endured not, where he stood |
|
|
| Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, |
|
|
| And thus his own undaunted heart explores. |
|
|
| O Heaven! that such resemblance of the Highest |
|
|
| Should yet remain, where faith and realty |
|
|
| Remain not: Wherefore should not strength and might |
|
|
| There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove |
|
|
| Where boldest, though to fight unconquerable? |
|
|
| His puissance, trusting in the Almighty's aid, |
|
|
| I mean to try, whose reason I have tried |
|
|
| Unsound and false; nor is it aught but just, |
|
|
| That he, who in debate of truth hath won, |
|
|
| Should win in arms, in both disputes alike |
|
|
| Victor; though brutish that contest and foul, |
|
|
| When reason hath to deal with force, yet so |
|
|
| Most reason is that reason overcome. |
|
|
| So pondering, and from his armed peers |
|
|
| Forth stepping opposite, half-way he met |
|
|
| His daring foe, at this prevention more |
|
|
| Incensed, and thus securely him defied. |
|
|
| Proud, art thou met? thy hope was to have reached |
|
|
| The highth of thy aspiring unopposed, |
|
|
| The throne of God unguarded, and his side |
|
|
| Abandoned, at the terrour of thy power |
|
|
| Or potent tongue: Fool!not to think how vain |
|
|
| Against the Omnipotent to rise in arms; |
|
|
| Who out of smallest things could, without end, |
|
|
| Have raised incessant armies to defeat |
|
|
| Thy folly; or with solitary hand |
|
|
| Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow, |
|
|
| Unaided, could have finished thee, and whelmed |
|
|
| Thy legions under darkness: But thou seest |
|
|
| All are not of thy train; there be, who faith |
|
|
| Prefer, and piety to God, though then |
|
|
| To thee not visible, when I alone |
|
|
| Seemed in thy world erroneous to dissent |
|
|
| From all: My sect thou seest;now learn too late |
|
|
| How few sometimes may know, when thousands err. |
|
|
| Whom the grand foe, with scornful eye askance, |
|
|
| Thus answered. Ill for thee, but in wished hour |
|
|
| Of my revenge, first sought for, thou returnest |
|
|
| From flight, seditious Angel! to receive |
|
|
| Thy merited reward, the first assay |
|
|
| Of this right hand provoked, since first that tongue, |
|
|
| Inspired with contradiction, durst oppose |
|
|
| A third part of the Gods, in synod met |
|
|
| Their deities to assert; who, while they feel |
|
|
| Vigour divine within them, can allow |
|
|
| Omnipotence to none. But well thou comest |
|
|
| Before thy fellows, ambitious to win |
|
|
| From me some plume, that thy success may show |
|
|
| Destruction to the rest: This pause between, |
|
|
| (Unanswered lest thou boast) to let thee know, |
|
|
| At first I thought that Liberty and Heaven |
|
|
| To heavenly souls had been all one; but now |
|
|
| I see that most through sloth had rather serve, |
|
|
| Ministring Spirits, trained up in feast and song! |
|
|
| Such hast thou armed, the minstrelsy of Heaven, |
|
|
| Servility with freedom to contend, |
|
|
| As both their deeds compared this day shall prove. |
|
|
| To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern replied. |
|
|
| Apostate! still thou errest, nor end wilt find |
|
|
| Of erring, from the path of truth remote: |
|
|
| Unjustly thou depravest it with the name |
|
|
| Of servitude, to serve whom God ordains, |
|
|
| Or Nature: God and Nature bid the same, |
|
|
| When he who rules is worthiest, and excels |
|
|
| Them whom he governs. This is servitude, |
|
|
| To serve the unwise, or him who hath rebelled |
|
|
| Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, |
|
|
| Thyself not free, but to thyself enthralled; |
|
|
| Yet lewdly darest our ministring upbraid. |
|
|
| Reign thou in Hell, thy kingdom; let me serve |
|
|
| In Heaven God ever blest, and his divine |
|
|
| Behests obey, worthiest to be obeyed; |
|
|
| Yet chains in Hell, not realms, expect: Mean while |
|
|
| From me returned, as erst thou saidst, from flight, |
|
|
| This greeting on thy impious crest receive. |
|
|
| So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high, |
|
|
| Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell |
|
|
| On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight, |
|
|
| Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield, |
|
|
| Such ruin intercept: Ten paces huge |
|
|
| He back recoiled; the tenth on bended knee |
|
|
| His massy spear upstaid; as if on earth |
|
|
| Winds under ground, or waters forcing way, |
|
|
| Sidelong had pushed a mountain from his seat, |
|
|
| Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement seised |
|
|
| The rebel Thrones, but greater rage, to see |
|
|
| Thus foiled their mightiest; ours joy filled, and shout, |
|
|
| Presage of victory, and fierce desire |
|
|
| Of battle: Whereat Michael bid sound |
|
|
| The Arch-Angel trumpet; through the vast of Heaven |
|
|
| It sounded, and the faithful armies rung |
|
|
| Hosanna to the Highest: Nor stood at gaze |
|
|
| The adverse legions, nor less hideous joined |
|
|
| The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose, |
|
|
| And clamour such as heard in Heaven till now |
|
|
| Was never; arms on armour clashing brayed |
|
|
| Horrible discord, and the madding wheels |
|
|
| Of brazen chariots raged; dire was the noise |
|
|
| Of conflict; over head the dismal hiss |
|
|
| Of fiery darts in flaming vollies flew, |
|
|
| And flying vaulted either host with fire. |
|
|
| So under fiery cope together rushed |
|
|
| Both battles main, with ruinous assault |
|
|
| And inextinguishable rage. All Heaven |
|
|
| Resounded; and had Earth been then, all Earth |
|
|
| Had to her center shook. What wonder? when |
|
|
| Millions of fierce encountering Angels fought |
|
|
| On either side, the least of whom could wield |
|
|
| These elements, and arm him with the force |
|
|
| Of all their regions: How much more of power |
|
|
| Army against army numberless to raise |
|
|
| Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb, |
|
|
| Though not destroy, their happy native seat; |
|
|
| Had not the Eternal King Omnipotent, |
|
|
| From his strong hold of Heaven, high over-ruled |
|
|
| And limited their might; though numbered such |
|
|
| As each divided legion might have seemed |
|
|
| A numerous host; in strength each armed hand |
|
|
| A legion; led in fight, yet leader seemed |
|
|
| Each warriour single as in chief, expert |
|
|
| When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway |
|
|
| Of battle, open when, and when to close |
|
|
| The ridges of grim war: No thought of flight, |
|
|
| None of retreat, no unbecoming deed |
|
|
| That argued fear; each on himself relied, |
|
|
| As only in his arm the moment lay |
|
|
| Of victory: Deeds of eternal fame |
|
|
| Were done, but infinite; for wide was spread |
|
|
| That war and various; sometimes on firm ground |
|
|
| A standing fight, then, soaring on main wing, |
|
|
| Tormented all the air; all air seemed then |
|
|
| Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale |
|
|
| The battle hung; till Satan, who that day |
|
|
| Prodigious power had shown, and met in arms |
|
|
| No equal, ranging through the dire attack |
|
|
| Of fighting Seraphim confused, at length |
|
|
| Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and felled |
|
|
| Squadrons at once; with huge two-handed sway |
|
|
| Brandished aloft, the horrid edge came down |
|
|
| Wide-wasting; such destruction to withstand |
|
|
| He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb |
|
|
| Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield, |
|
|
| A vast circumference. At his approach |
|
|
| The great Arch-Angel from his warlike toil |
|
|
| Surceased, and glad, as hoping here to end |
|
|
| Intestine war in Heaven, the arch-foe subdued |
|
|
| Or captive dragged in chains, with hostile frown |
|
|
| And visage all inflamed first thus began. |
|
|
| Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt, |
|
|
| Unnamed in Heaven, now plenteous as thou seest |
|
|
| These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all, |
|
|
| Though heaviest by just measure on thyself, |
|
|
| And thy adherents: How hast thou disturbed |
|
|
| Heaven's blessed peace, and into nature brought |
|
|
| Misery, uncreated till the crime |
|
|
| Of thy rebellion! how hast thou instilled |
|
|
| Thy malice into thousands, once upright |
|
|
| And faithful, now proved false! But think not here |
|
|
| To trouble holy rest; Heaven casts thee out |
|
|
| From all her confines. Heaven, the seat of bliss, |
|
|
| Brooks not the works of violence and war. |
|
|
| Hence then, and evil go with thee along, |
|
|
| Thy offspring, to the place of evil, Hell; |
|
|
| Thou and thy wicked crew! there mingle broils, |
|
|
| Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, |
|
|
| Or some more sudden vengeance, winged from God, |
|
|
| Precipitate thee with augmented pain. |
|
|
| So spake the Prince of Angels; to whom thus |
|
|
| The Adversary. Nor think thou with wind |
|
|
| Of aery threats to awe whom yet with deeds |
|
|
| Thou canst not. Hast thou turned the least of these |
|
|
| To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise |
|
|
| Unvanquished, easier to transact with me |
|
|
| That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats |
|
|
| To chase me hence? err not, that so shall end |
|
|
| The strife which thou callest evil, but we style |
|
|
| The strife of glory; which we mean to win, |
|
|
| Or turn this Heaven itself into the Hell |
|
|
| Thou fablest; here however to dwell free, |
|
|
| If not to reign: Mean while thy utmost force, |
|
|
| And join him named Almighty to thy aid, |
|
|
| I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh. |
|
|
| They ended parle, and both addressed for fight |
|
|
| Unspeakable; for who, though with the tongue |
|
|
| Of Angels, can relate, or to what things |
|
|
| Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift |
|
|
| Human imagination to such highth |
|
|
| Of Godlike power? for likest Gods they seemed, |
|
|
| Stood they or moved, in stature, motion, arms, |
|
|
| Fit to decide the empire of great Heaven. |
|
|
| Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air |
|
|
| Made horrid circles; two broad suns their shields |
|
|
| Blazed opposite, while Expectation stood |
|
|
| In horrour: From each hand with speed retired, |
|
|
| Where erst was thickest fight, the angelick throng, |
|
|
| And left large field, unsafe within the wind |
|
|
| Of such commotion; such as, to set forth |
|
|
| Great things by small, if, nature's concord broke, |
|
|
| Among the constellations war were sprung, |
|
|
| Two planets, rushing from aspect malign |
|
|
| Of fiercest opposition, in mid sky |
|
|
| Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. |
|
|
| Together both with next to almighty arm |
|
|
| Up-lifted imminent, one stroke they aimed |
|
|
| That might determine, and not need repeat, |
|
|
| As not of power at once; nor odds appeared |
|
|
| In might or swift prevention: But the sword |
|
|
| Of Michael from the armoury of God |
|
|
| Was given him tempered so, that neither keen |
|
|
| Nor solid might resist that edge: it met |
|
|
| The sword of Satan, with steep force to smite |
|
|
| Descending, and in half cut sheer; nor staid, |
|
|
| But with swift wheel reverse, deep entering, shared |
|
|
| All his right side: Then Satan first knew pain, |
|
|
| And writhed him to and fro convolved; so sore |
|
|
| The griding sword with discontinuous wound |
|
|
| Passed through him: But the ethereal substance closed, |
|
|
| Not long divisible; and from the gash |
|
|
| A stream of necturous humour issuing flowed |
|
|
| Sanguine, such as celestial Spirits may bleed, |
|
|
| And all his armour stained, ere while so bright. |
|
|
| Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run |
|
|
| By Angels many and strong, who interposed |
|
|
| Defence, while others bore him on their shields |
|
|
| Back to his chariot, where it stood retired |
|
|
| From off the files of war: There they him laid |
|
|
| Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame, |
|
|
| To find himself not matchless, and his pride |
|
|
| Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath |
|
|
| His confidence to equal God in power. |
|
|
| Yet soon he healed; for Spirits that live throughout |
|
|
| Vital in every part, not as frail man |
|
|
| In entrails, heart of head, liver or reins, |
|
|
| Cannot but by annihilating die; |
|
|
| Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound |
|
|
| Receive, no more than can the fluid air: |
|
|
| All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, |
|
|
| All intellect, all sense; and, as they please, |
|
|
| They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size |
|
|
| Assume, as?kikes them best, condense or rare. |
|
|
| Mean while in other parts like deeds deserved |
|
|
| Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought, |
|
|
| And with fierce ensigns pierced the deep array |
|
|
| Of Moloch, furious king; who him defied, |
|
|
| And at his chariot-wheels to drag him bound |
|
|
| Threatened, nor from the Holy One of Heaven |
|
|
| Refrained his tongue blasphemous; but anon |
|
|
| Down cloven to the waist, with shattered arms |
|
|
| And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing |
|
|
| Uriel, and Raphael, his vaunting foe, |
|
|
| Though huge, and in a rock of diamond armed, |
|
|
| Vanquished Adramelech, and Asmadai, |
|
|
| Two potent Thrones, that to be less than Gods |
|
|
| Disdained, but meaner thoughts learned in their flight, |
|
|
| Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and mail. |
|
|
| Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy |
|
|
| The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow |
|
|
| Ariel, and Arioch, and the violence |
|
|
| Of Ramiel scorched and blasted, overthrew. |
|
|
| I might relate of thousands, and their names |
|
|
| Eternize here on earth; but those elect |
|
|
| Angels, contented with their fame in Heaven, |
|
|
| Seek not the praise of men: The other sort, |
|
|
| In might though wonderous and in acts of war, |
|
|
| Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom |
|
|
| Cancelled from Heaven and sacred memory, |
|
|
| Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. |
|
|
| For strength from truth divided, and from just, |
|
|
| Illaudable, nought merits but dispraise |
|
|
| And ignominy; yet to glory aspires |
|
|
| Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame: |
|
|
| Therefore eternal silence be their doom. |
|
|
| And now, their mightiest quelled, the battle swerved, |
|
|
| With many an inroad gored; deformed rout |
|
|
| Entered, and foul disorder; all the ground |
|
|
| With shivered armour strown, and on a heap |
|
|
| Chariot and charioteer lay overturned, |
|
|
| And fiery-foaming steeds; what stood, recoiled |
|
|
| O'er-wearied, through the faint Satanick host |
|
|
| Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surprised, |
|
|
| Then first with fear surprised, and sense of pain, |
|
|
| Fled ignominious, to such evil brought |
|
|
| By sin of disobedience; till that hour |
|
|
| Not liable to fear, or flight, or pain. |
|
|
| Far otherwise the inviolable Saints, |
|
|
| In cubick phalanx firm, advanced entire, |
|
|
| Invulnerable, impenetrably armed; |
|
|
| Such high advantages their innocence |
|
|
| Gave them above their foes; not to have sinned, |
|
|
| Not to have disobeyed; in fight they stood |
|
|
| Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pained |
|
|
| By wound, though from their place by violence moved, |
|
|
| Now Night her course began, and, over Heaven |
|
|
| Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed, |
|
|
| And silence on the odious din of war: |
|
|
| Under her cloudy covert both retired, |
|
|
| Victor and vanquished: On the foughten field |
|
|
| Michael and his Angels prevalent |
|
|
| Encamping, placed in guard their watches round, |
|
|
| Cherubick waving fires: On the other part, |
|
|
| Satan with his rebellious disappeared, |
|
|
| Far in the dark dislodged; and, void of rest, |
|
|
| His potentates to council called by night; |
|
|
| And in the midst thus undismayed began. |
|
|
| O now in danger tried, now known in arms |
|
|
| Not to be overpowered, Companions dear, |
|
|
| Found worthy not of liberty alone, |
|
|
| Too mean pretence! but what we more affect, |
|
|
| Honour, dominion, glory, and renown; |
|
|
| Who have sustained one day in doubtful fight, |
|
|
| (And if one day, why not eternal days?) |
|
|
| What Heaven's Lord had powerfullest to send |
|
|
| Against us from about his throne, and judged |
|
|
| Sufficient to subdue us to his will, |
|
|
| But proves not so: Then fallible, it seems, |
|
|
| Of future we may deem him, though till now |
|
|
| Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly armed, |
|
|
| Some disadvantage we endured and pain, |
|
|
| Till now not known, but, known, as soon contemned; |
|
|
| Since now we find this our empyreal form |
|
|
| Incapable of mortal injury, |
|
|
| Imperishable, and, though pierced with wound, |
|
|
| Soon closing, and by native vigour healed. |
|
|
| Of evil then so small as easy think |
|
|
| The remedy; perhaps more valid arms, |
|
|
| Weapons more violent, when next we meet, |
|
|
| May serve to better us, and worse our foes, |
|
|
| Or equal what between us made the odds, |
|
|
| In nature none: If other hidden cause |
|
|
| Left them superiour, while we can preserve |
|
|
| Unhurt our minds, and understanding sound, |
|
|
| Due search and consultation will disclose. |
|
|
| He sat; and in the assembly next upstood |
|
|
| Nisroch, of Principalities the prime; |
|
|
| As one he stood escaped from cruel fight, |
|
|
| Sore toiled, his riven arms to havock hewn, |
|
|
| And cloudy in aspect thus answering spake. |
|
|
| Deliverer from new Lords, leader to free |
|
|
| Enjoyment of our right as Gods; yet hard |
|
|
| For Gods, and too unequal work we find, |
|
|
| Against unequal arms to fight in pain, |
|
|
| Against unpained, impassive; from which evil |
|
|
| Ruin must needs ensue; for what avails |
|
|
| Valour or strength, though matchless, quelled with pain |
|
|
| Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands |
|
|
| Of mightiest? Sense of pleasure we may well |
|
|
| Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, |
|
|
| But live content, which is the calmest life: |
|
|
| But pain is perfect misery, the worst |
|
|
| Of evils, and, excessive, overturns |
|
|
| All patience. He, who therefore can invent |
|
|
| With what more forcible we may offend |
|
|
| Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm |
|
|
| Ourselves with like defence, to me deserves |
|
|
| No less than for deliverance what we owe. |
|
|
| Whereto with look composed Satan replied. |
|
|
| Not uninvented that, which thou aright |
|
|
| Believest so main to our success, I bring. |
|
|
| Which of us who beholds the bright surface |
|
|
| Of this ethereous mould whereon we stand, |
|
|
| This continent of spacious Heaven, adorned |
|
|
| With plant, fruit, flower ambrosial, gems, and gold; |
|
|
| Whose eye so superficially surveys |
|
|
| These things, as not to mind from whence they grow |
|
|
| Deep under ground, materials dark and crude, |
|
|
| Of spiritous and fiery spume, till touched |
|
|
| With Heaven's ray, and tempered, they shoot forth |
|
|
| So beauteous, opening to the ambient light? |
|
|
| These in their dark nativity the deep |
|
|
| Shall yield us, pregnant with infernal flame; |
|
|
| Which, into hollow engines, long and round, |
|
|
| Thick rammed, at the other bore with touch of fire |
|
|
| Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth |
|
|
| From far, with thundering noise, among our foes |
|
|
| Such implements of mischief, as shall dash |
|
|
| To pieces, and o'erwhelm whatever stands |
|
|
| Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarmed |
|
|
| The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt. |
|
|
| Nor long shall be our labour; yet ere dawn, |
|
|
| Effect shall end our wish. Mean while revive; |
|
|
| Abandon fear; to strength and counsel joined |
|
|
| Think nothing hard, much less to be despaired. |
|
|
| He ended, and his words their drooping cheer |
|
|
| Enlightened, and their languished hope revived. |
|
|
| The invention all admired, and each, how he |
|
|
| To be the inventer missed; so easy it seemed |
|
|
| Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought |
|
|
| Impossible: Yet, haply, of thy race |
|
|
| In future days, if malice should abound, |
|
|
| Some one intent on mischief, or inspired |
|
|
| With devilish machination, might devise |
|
|
| Like instrument to plague the sons of men |
|
|
| For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. |
|
|
| Forthwith from council to the work they flew; |
|
|
| None arguing stood; innumerable hands |
|
|
| Were ready; in a moment up they turned |
|
|
| Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath |
|
|
| The originals of nature in their crude |
|
|
| Conception; sulphurous and nitrous foam |
|
|
| They found, they mingled, and, with subtle art, |
|
|
| Concocted and adusted they reduced |
|
|
| To blackest grain, and into store conveyed: |
|
|
| Part hidden veins digged up (nor hath this earth |
|
|
| Entrails unlike) of mineral and stone, |
|
|
| Whereof to found their engines and their balls |
|
|
| Of missive ruin; part incentive reed |
|
|
| Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire. |
|
|
| So all ere day-spring, under conscious night, |
|
|
| Secret they finished, and in order set, |
|
|
| With silent circumspection, unespied. |
|
|
| Now when fair morn orient in Heaven appeared, |
|
|
| Up rose the victor-Angels, and to arms |
|
|
| The matin trumpet sung: In arms they stood |
|
|
| Of golden panoply, refulgent host, |
|
|
| Soon banded; others from the dawning hills |
|
|
| Look round, and scouts each coast light-armed scour, |
|
|
| Each quarter to descry the distant foe, |
|
|
| Where lodged, or whither fled, or if for fight, |
|
|
| In motion or in halt: Him soon they met |
|
|
| Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow |
|
|
| But firm battalion; back with speediest sail |
|
|
| Zophiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing, |
|
|
| Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried. |
|
|
| Arm, Warriours, arm for fight; the foe at hand, |
|
|
| Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit |
|
|
| This day; fear not his flight;so thick a cloud |
|
|
| He comes, and settled in his face I see |
|
|
| Sad resolution, and secure: Let each |
|
|
| His adamantine coat gird well, and each |
|
|
| Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield, |
|
|
| Borne even or high; for this day will pour down, |
|
|
| If I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower, |
|
|
| But rattling storm of arrows barbed with fire. |
|
|
| So warned he them, aware themselves, and soon |
|
|
| In order, quit of all impediment; |
|
|
| Instant without disturb they took alarm, |
|
|
| And onward moved embattled: When behold! |
|
|
| Not distant far with heavy pace the foe |
|
|
| Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube |
|
|
| Training his devilish enginery, impaled |
|
|
| On every side with shadowing squadrons deep, |
|
|
| To hide the fraud. At interview both stood |
|
|
| A while; but suddenly at head appeared |
|
|
| Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud. |
|
|
| Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold; |
|
|
| That all may see who hate us, how we seek |
|
|
| Peace and composure, and with open breast |
|
|
| Stand ready to receive them, if they like |
|
|
| Our overture; and turn not back perverse: |
|
|
| But that I doubt; however witness, Heaven! |
|
|
| Heaven, witness thou anon! while we discharge |
|
|
| Freely our part: ye, who appointed stand |
|
|
| Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch |
|
|
| What we propound, and loud that all may hear! |
|
|
| So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce |
|
|
| Had ended; when to right and left the front |
|
|
| Divided, and to either flank retired: |
|
|
| Which to our eyes discovered, new and strange, |
|
|
| A triple mounted row of pillars laid |
|
|
| On wheels (for like to pillars most they seemed, |
|
|
| Or hollowed bodies made of oak or fir, |
|
|
| With branches lopt, in wood or mountain felled,) |
|
|
| Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths |
|
|
| With hideous orifice gaped on us wide, |
|
|
| Portending hollow truce: At each behind |
|
|
| A Seraph stood, and in his hand a reed |
|
|
| Stood waving tipt with fire; while we, suspense, |
|
|
| Collected stood within our thoughts amused, |
|
|
| Not long; for sudden all at once their reeds |
|
|
| Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied |
|
|
| With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, |
|
|
| But soon obscured with smoke, all Heaven appeared, |
|
|
| From those deep-throated engines belched, whose roar |
|
|
| Embowelled with outrageous noise the air, |
|
|
| And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul |
|
|
| Their devilish glut, chained thunderbolts and hail |
|
|
| Of iron globes; which, on the victor host |
|
|
| Levelled, with such impetuous fury smote, |
|
|
| That, whom they hit, none on their feet might stand, |
|
|
| Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell |
|
|
| By thousands, Angel on Arch-Angel rolled; |
|
|
| The sooner for their arms; unarmed, they might |
|
|
| Have easily, as Spirits, evaded swift |
|
|
| By quick contraction or remove; but now |
|
|
| Foul dissipation followed, and forced rout; |
|
|
| Nor served it to relax their serried files. |
|
|
| What should they do? if on they rushed, repulse |
|
|
| Repeated, and indecent overthrow |
|
|
| Doubled, would render them yet more despised, |
|
|
| And to their foes a laughter; for in view |
|
|
| Stood ranked of Seraphim another row, |
|
|
| In posture to displode their second tire |
|
|
| Of thunder: Back defeated to return |
|
|
| They worse abhorred. Satan beheld their plight, |
|
|
| And to his mates thus in derision called. |
|
|
| O Friends! why come not on these victors proud |
|
|
| Ere while they fierce were coming; and when we, |
|
|
| To entertain them fair with open front |
|
|
| And breast, (what could we more?) propounded terms |
|
|
| Of composition, straight they changed their minds, |
|
|
| Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, |
|
|
| As they would dance; yet for a dance they seemed |
|
|
| Somewhat extravagant and wild; perhaps |
|
|
| For joy of offered peace: But I suppose, |
|
|
| If our proposals once again were heard, |
|
|
| We should compel them to a quick result. |
|
|
| To whom thus Belial, in like gamesome mood. |
|
|
| Leader! the terms we sent were terms of weight, |
|
|
| Of hard contents, and full of force urged home; |
|
|
| Such as we might perceive amused them all, |
|
|
| And stumbled many: Who receives them right, |
|
|
| Had need from head to foot well understand; |
|
|
| Not understood, this gift they have besides, |
|
|
| They show us when our foes walk not upright. |
|
|
| So they among themselves in pleasant vein |
|
|
| Stood scoffing, hightened in their thoughts beyond |
|
|
| All doubt of victory: Eternal Might |
|
|
| To match with their inventions they presumed |
|
|
| So easy, and of his thunder made a scorn, |
|
|
| And all his host derided, while they stood |
|
|
| A while in trouble: But they stood not long; |
|
|
| Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms |
|
|
| Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose. |
|
|
| Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power, |
|
|
| Which God hath in his mighty Angels placed!) |
|
|
| Their arms away they threw, and to the hills |
|
|
| (For Earth hath this variety from Heaven |
|
|
| Of pleasure situate in hill and dale,) |
|
|
| Light as the lightning glimpse they ran, they flew; |
|
|
| From their foundations loosening to and fro, |
|
|
| They plucked the seated hills, with all their load, |
|
|
| Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops |
|
|
| Up-lifting bore them in their hands: Amaze, |
|
|
| Be sure, and terrour, seized the rebel host, |
|
|
| When coming towards them so dread they saw |
|
|
| The bottom of the mountains upward turned; |
|
|
| Till on those cursed engines' triple-row |
|
|
| They saw them whelmed, and all their confidence |
|
|
| Under the weight of mountains buried deep; |
|
|
| Themselves invaded next, and on their heads |
|
|
| Main promontories flung, which in the air |
|
|
| Came shadowing, and oppressed whole legions armed; |
|
|
| Their armour helped their harm, crushed in and bruised |
|
|
| Into their substance pent, which wrought them pain |
|
|
| Implacable, and many a dolorous groan; |
|
|
| Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind |
|
|
| Out of such prison, though Spirits of purest light, |
|
|
| Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown. |
|
|
| The rest, in imitation, to like arms |
|
|
| Betook them, and the neighbouring hills uptore: |
|
|
| So hills amid the air encountered hills, |
|
|
| Hurled to and fro with jaculation dire; |
|
|
| That under ground they fought in dismal shade; |
|
|
| Infernal noise! war seemed a civil game |
|
|
| To this uproar; horrid confusion heaped |
|
|
| Upon confusion rose: And now all Heaven |
|
|
| Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread; |
|
|
| Had not the Almighty Father, where he sits |
|
|
| Shrined in his sanctuary of Heaven secure, |
|
|
| Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen |
|
|
| This tumult, and permitted all, advised: |
|
|
| That his great purpose he might so fulfil, |
|
|
| To honour his anointed Son avenged |
|
|
| Upon his enemies, and to declare |
|
|
| All power on him transferred: Whence to his Son, |
|
|
| The Assessour of his throne, he thus began. |
|
|
| Effulgence of my glory, Son beloved, |
|
|
| Son, in whose face invisible is beheld |
|
|
| Visibly, what by Deity I am; |
|
|
| And in whose hand what by decree I do, |
|
|
| Second Omnipotence! two days are past, |
|
|
| Two days, as we compute the days of Heaven, |
|
|
| Since Michael and his Powers went forth to tame |
|
|
| These disobedient: Sore hath been their fight, |
|
|
| As likeliest was, when two such foes met armed; |
|
|
| For to themselves I left them; and thou knowest, |
|
|
| Equal in their creation they were formed, |
|
|
| Save what sin hath impaired; which yet hath wrought |
|
|
| Insensibly, for I suspend their doom; |
|
|
| Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last |
|
|
| Endless, and no solution will be found: |
|
|
| War wearied hath performed what war can do, |
|
|
| And to disordered rage let loose the reins |
|
|
| With mountains, as with weapons, armed; which makes |
|
|
| Wild work in Heaven, and dangerous to the main. |
|
|
| Two days are therefore past, the third is thine; |
|
|
| For thee I have ordained it; and thus far |
|
|
| Have suffered, that the glory may be thine |
|
|
| Of ending this great war, since none but Thou |
|
|
| Can end it. Into thee such virtue and grace |
|
|
| Immense I have transfused, that all may know |
|
|
| In Heaven and Hell thy power above compare; |
|
|
| And, this perverse commotion governed thus, |
|
|
| To manifest thee worthiest to be Heir |
|
|
| Of all things; to be Heir, and to be King |
|
|
| By sacred unction, thy deserved right. |
|
|
| Go then, Thou Mightiest, in thy Father's might; |
|
|
| Ascend my chariot, guide the rapid wheels |
|
|
| That shake Heaven's basis, bring forth all my war, |
|
|
| My bow and thunder, my almighty arms |
|
|
| Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh; |
|
|
| Pursue these sons of darkness, drive them out |
|
|
| From all Heaven's bounds into the utter deep: |
|
|
| There let them learn, as likes them, to despise |
|
|
| God, and Messiah his anointed King. |
|
|
| He said, and on his Son with rays direct |
|
|
| Shone full; he all his Father full expressed |
|
|
| Ineffably into his face received; |
|
|
| And thus the Filial Godhead answering spake. |
|
|
| O Father, O Supreme of heavenly Thrones, |
|
|
| First, Highest, Holiest, Best; thou always seek'st |
|
|
| To glorify thy Son, I always thee, |
|
|
| As is most just: This I my glory account, |
|
|
| My exaltation, and my whole delight, |
|
|
| That thou, in me well pleased, declarest thy will |
|
|
| Fulfilled, which to fulfil is all my bliss. |
|
|
| Scepter and power, thy giving, I assume, |
|
|
| And gladlier shall resign, when in the end |
|
|
| Thou shalt be all in all, and I in thee |
|
|
| For ever; and in me all whom thou lovest: |
|
|
| But whom thou hatest, I hate, and can put on |
|
|
| Thy terrours, as I put thy mildness on, |
|
|
| Image of thee in all things; and shall soon, |
|
|
| Armed with thy might, rid Heaven of these rebelled; |
|
|
| To their prepared ill mansion driven down, |
|
|
| To chains of darkness, and the undying worm; |
|
|
| That from thy just obedience could revolt, |
|
|
| Whom to obey is happiness entire. |
|
|
| Then shall thy Saints unmixed, and from the impure |
|
|
| Far separate, circling thy holy mount, |
|
|
| Unfeigned Halleluiahs to thee sing, |
|
|
| Hymns of high praise, and I among them Chief. |
|
|
| So said, he, o'er his scepter bowing, rose |
|
|
| From the right hand of Glory where he sat; |
|
|
| And the third sacred morn began to shine, |
|
|
| Dawning through Heaven. Forth rushed with whirlwind sound |
|
|
| The chariot of Paternal Deity, |
|
|
| Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn, |
|
|
| Itself instinct with Spirit, but convoyed |
|
|
| By four Cherubick shapes; four faces each |
|
|
| Had wonderous; as with stars, their bodies all |
|
|
| And wings were set with eyes; with eyes the wheels |
|
|
| Of beryl, and careering fires between; |
|
|
| Over their heads a crystal firmament, |
|
|
| Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure |
|
|
| Amber, and colours of the showery arch. |
|
|
| He, in celestial panoply all armed |
|
|
| Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought, |
|
|
| Ascended; at his right hand Victory |
|
|
| Sat eagle-winged; beside him hung his bow |
|
|
| And quiver with three-bolted thunder stored; |
|
|
| And from about him fierce effusion rolled |
|
|
| Of smoke, and bickering flame, and sparkles dire: |
|
|
| Attended with ten thousand thousand Saints, |
|
|
| He onward came; far off his coming shone; |
|
|
| And twenty thousand (I their number heard) |
|
|
| Chariots of God, half on each hand, were seen; |
|
|
| He on the wings of Cherub rode sublime |
|
|
| On the crystalline sky, in sapphire throned, |
|
|
| Illustrious far and wide; but by his own |
|
|
| First seen: Them unexpected joy surprised, |
|
|
| When the great ensign of Messiah blazed |
|
|
| Aloft by Angels borne, his sign in Heaven; |
|
|
| Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced |
|
|
| His army, circumfused on either wing, |
|
|
| Under their Head imbodied all in one. |
|
|
| Before him Power Divine his way prepared; |
|
|
| At his command the uprooted hills retired |
|
|
| Each to his place; they heard his voice, and went |
|
|
| Obsequious; Heaven his wonted face renewed, |
|
|
| And with fresh flowerets hill and valley smiled. |
|
|
| This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured, |
|
|
| And to rebellious fight rallied their Powers, |
|
|
| Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. |
|
|
| In heavenly Spirits could such perverseness dwell? |
|
|
| But to convince the proud what signs avail, |
|
|
| Or wonders move the obdurate to relent? |
|
|
| They, hardened more by what might most reclaim, |
|
|
| Grieving to see his glory, at the sight |
|
|
| Took envy; and, aspiring to his highth, |
|
|
| Stood re-embattled fierce, by force or fraud |
|
|
| Weening to prosper, and at length prevail |
|
|
| Against God and Messiah, or to fall |
|
|
| In universal ruin last; and now |
|
|
| To final battle drew, disdaining flight, |
|
|
| Or faint retreat; when the great Son of God |
|
|
| To all his host on either hand thus spake. |
|
|
| Stand still in bright array, ye Saints; here stand, |
|
|
| Ye Angels armed; this day from battle rest: |
|
|
| Faithful hath been your warfare, and of God |
|
|
| Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause; |
|
|
| And as ye have received, so have ye done, |
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| Invincibly: But of this cursed crew |
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| The punishment to other hand belongs; |
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| Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints: |
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| Number to this day's work is not ordained, |
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| Nor multitude; stand only, and behold |
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| God's indignation on these godless poured |
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| By me; not you, but me, they have despised, |
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| Yet envied; against me is all their rage, |
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| Because the Father, to whom in Heaven s'preme |
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| Kingdom, and power, and glory appertains, |
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| Hath honoured me, according to his will. |
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| Therefore to me their doom he hath assigned; |
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| That they may have their wish, to try with me |
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| In battle which the stronger proves; they all, |
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| Or I alone against them; since by strength |
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| They measure all, of other excellence |
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| Not emulous, nor care who them excels; |
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| Nor other strife with them do I vouchsafe. |
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| So spake the Son, and into terrour changed |
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| His countenance too severe to be beheld, |
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| And full of wrath bent on his enemies. |
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| At once the Four spread out their starry wings |
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| With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs |
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| Of his fierce chariot rolled, as with the sound |
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| Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. |
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| He on his impious foes right onward drove, |
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| Gloomy as night; under his burning wheels |
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| The stedfast empyrean shook throughout, |
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| All but the throne itself of God. Full soon |
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| Among them he arrived; in his right hand |
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| Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent |
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| Before him, such as in their souls infixed |
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| Plagues: They, astonished, all resistance lost, |
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| All courage; down their idle weapons dropt: |
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| O'er shields, and helms, and helmed heads he rode |
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| Of Thrones and mighty Seraphim prostrate, |
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| That wished the mountains now might be again |
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| Thrown on them, as a shelter from his ire. |
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| Nor less on either side tempestuous fell |
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| His arrows, from the fourfold-visaged Four |
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| Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels |
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| Distinct alike with multitude of eyes; |
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| One Spirit in them ruled; and every eye |
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| Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire |
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| Among the accursed, that withered all their strength, |
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| And of their wonted vigour left them drained, |
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| Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen. |
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| Yet half his strength he put not forth, but checked |
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| His thunder in mid volley; for he meant |
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| Not to destroy, but root them out of Heaven: |
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| The overthrown he raised, and as a herd |
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| Of goats or timorous flock together thronged |
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| Drove them before him thunder-struck, pursued |
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| With terrours, and with furies, to the bounds |
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| And crystal wall of Heaven; which, opening wide, |
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| Rolled inward, and a spacious gap disclosed |
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| Into the wasteful deep: The monstrous sight |
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| Struck them with horrour backward, but far worse |
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| Urged them behind: Headlong themselves they threw |
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| Down from the verge of Heaven; eternal wrath |
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| Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. |
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| Hell heard the unsufferable noise, Hell saw |
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| Heaven ruining from Heaven, and would have fled |
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| Affrighted; but strict Fate had cast too deep |
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| Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. |
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| Nine days they fell: Confounded Chaos roared, |
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| And felt tenfold confusion in their fall |
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| Through his wild anarchy, so huge a rout |
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| Incumbered him with ruin: Hell at last |
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| Yawning received them whole, and on them closed; |
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| Hell, their fit habitation, fraught with fire |
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| Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. |
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| Disburdened Heaven rejoiced, and soon repaired |
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| Her mural breach, returning whence it rolled. |
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| Sole victor, from the expulsion of his foes, |
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| Messiah his triumphal chariot turned: |
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| To meet him all his Saints, who silent stood |
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| Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts, |
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| With jubilee advanced; and, as they went, |
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| Shaded with branching palm, each Order bright, |
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| Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, |
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| Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given, |
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| Worthiest to reign: He, celebrated, rode |
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| Triumphant through mid Heaven, into the courts |
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| And temple of his Mighty Father throned |
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| On high; who into glory him received, |
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| Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss. |
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| Thus, measuring things in Heaven by things on Earth, |
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| At thy request, and that thou mayest beware |
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| By what is past, to thee I have revealed |
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| What might have else to human race been hid; |
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| The discord which befel, and war in Heaven |
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| Among the angelick Powers, and the deep fall |
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| Of those too high aspiring, who rebelled |
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| With Satan; he who envies now thy state, |
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| Who now is plotting how he may seduce |
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| Thee also from obedience, that, with him |
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| Bereaved of happiness, thou mayest partake |
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| His punishment, eternal misery; |
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| Which would be all his solace and revenge, |
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| As a despite done against the Most High, |
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| Thee once to gain companion of his woe. |
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| But listen not to his temptations, warn |
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| Thy weaker; let it profit thee to have heard, |
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| By terrible example, the reward |
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| Of disobedience; firm they might have stood, |
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| Yet fell; remember, and fear to transgress. |
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