By FONTARABBIA. Thus far these beyond Compare of mortal prowess, yet observ'd Their dread commander: he, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tow'r: his form had yet not loft All her original brightness, nor appear'd Less than Arch-Angel ruin'd, and th'excess Of glory obscur'd: as when the Sun new-ris'n Looks thro' the horizontal misty air, Shorn off his beams; or from behind the moon, In dim eclipse, difastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes Monarchs; darken'd so, yet shone Above them all th' Arch-Angel: but his face Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd, and care Sate on his faded cheek, but under brows Of dauntless courage, and confid'rate pride Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but cast Signs of remorse and paffion to behold The fellows of his crime, the followers rather, (Far other once beheld in blifs) condemn'd For ever now to have their lot in pain; Millions of spirits for his fault amerc'd Of heav'n, and from eternal splendors flung For his revolt, yet faithful now they stood, Their glory wither'd: as when heaven's fire Hath feath'd the forest oaks, or mountain pines, With finged top their stately growth tho' bare
Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepar'd 615 To speak, whereat their doubled ranks they bend From wing to wing, and half inclose him round With all his Peers: attention held them mute: Thrice he affay'd, and thrice in spight of scorn, Tears, fuch as Angels weep, burst forth; at last 620 Words interwove with fighs found out their way.
O myriads of immortal spirits! O Pow'rs Matebless, but with the Almighty! and that strife
Was not inglorious, tho' th' event was dire, As this place teftifies, and this dire change, Hateful to utter: but what pow'r of mind, Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth Of knowledge past or present, could have fear'd, How such united force of Gods, how such As ftood like these, could ever know repulse? 630 For who can yet believe, tho' after lofs, That all these puissant legions, whose exile Hath emptied Heav'n, shall fail to re afcend Self-rais'd, and re-possess their native feat? For me be witness all the host of heav'n, If counsels different, or danger shun'd By me, have lost our hopes: but he who reigns Monarch in Heav'n, 'till then as one secure Sate on his throne, upheld by old repute, Consent or custom, and his regal state Put forth at full, but still his strength conceal'd, Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. Henceforth his might we know, and know our own; So as not either to provoke, or dread New war, provok'd; our better part remains To work in close design, by fraud or guile, What force effected not that he no less At length from us may find, who overcomes By force, hath overcome but half his foe. Space may produce new worlds; whereof fo rife 650 There went a fame in Heav'n, that he ere long Intended to create; and therein plant A generation, whom his choice regard Should favour equal to the fons of Heav'n: Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere: For this infernal pit shall never hold Cæleftial spirits in bondage, nor th'abyss Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts Full counsel must mature: peace is defpair'd, For who can think fubmiffion? war then, war Open or understood must be refolv'd.
He spake: and to confirm his words out-flew Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty Cherubim: the sudden blaze Far round illumin'd Hell; highly they rag'd Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms Clash'd on their founding shields the din of war, Hurling defiance toward the vault of heav'n.
There stood a hill not far, whose grifly top 670 Belch'd fire and rowling smoke; the rest entire Shone with a glossy scurf, undoubted fign That in his womb was hid metallic ore, The work of fulphur; thither wing'd with speed A numerous brigad hasten'd: as when bands Of pioneers, with spade and pickax arm'd, Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, Or cast a rampart: MAMMON led them on, MAMMON, the least erected spirit that fell From Heav'n; for ev'n in Heav'n his looks & thoughts Were always downward bent; admiring more 681 The riches of Heav'n's pavement, trodden gold, Than ought divine or holy else, enjoy'd In vision beatific: by him first
Men also, and by his suggestion taught, Ranfack'd the centre, and with impious hands Rifled the bowels of their mother earth For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew Open'd into the hill a spacious wound, And dig'd out ribs of gold. (Let none admire 690 That riches grow in Hell; that foil may best Deserve the precious bane.) And here let those Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring tell Of BABEL, and the works of MEMPHIAN Kings, Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, 695 And strength and art are easily out - done By spirits reprobate, and in an hour What in an age they with inceffant toil, And hands innumerable, scarce perform.
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