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To that bad eminence: and from despair
Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires
Beyond thus high, infatiate to perfue
Vain war with Heav'n, and by fuccess untaught
His proud imaginations thus display'd.

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Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heav'n!
For fince no deep within her gulph can hold
Immortal vigor, though oppress'd and fall'n,
I give not Heav'n for loft. From this defcent
Cœleftial virtues rifing, will appear
More glorious and more dread than from no fall,
And trust themselves to fear no second fate.

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Me though just right, and the fix'd laws of Heav'n

Did first create your Leader, next free choice,

With what befides, in council or in fight,
Hath been atchiev'd of merit, yet this loss
Thus far at least recover'd, hath much more
Establish'd in a fafe unenvied throne,

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Yielded with full consent. The happier state
In Heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw 25
Envy from each inferior; but who here
Will envy whom the highest place exposes
Foremost to stand against the Thunderer's aim
Your bulwark, and condems to greatest share
Of endless pain? Where there is then no good 30
For which to strive, no strife can grow up there
From faction; for none fure will claim in Hell
Precedence; none, whose portion is so small
Of present pain, that with ambitious mind
Will covet more! With this advantage then
To union, and firm faith, and firm accord,
More than can be in Heav'n, we now return
To claim our just inheritance of old,

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Surer to profper than profperity

Could have affur'd us; and by what best way, 40

Whether of open war or covert guile,

We now debate; who can advise may speak.

He ceas'd; and next him Motoc, sceptred King, Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest spirit That fought in Heav'n, now fiercer by despair: 45 His truft was with the Eternal to be deem'd Equal in strength, and rather than be less Car'd not to be at all; with that care loft Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse, He reck'd not; and these words thereafter spake: 50

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My sentence is for open war: of wiles, More inexpert, I boast not: them let those Contrive who need, or when they need, not now: For while they fit contriving, shall the rest, Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait The tignal to ascend, fit ling'ring here Heav'n's fugitives, and for their dwelling place Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, The prison of his tyranny who reigns By our delay? No! let us rather chuse, Arm'd with hell flames and fury, all at once O'er Heav'n's high towrs to force resistless way, Turning our tortures into horrid arms Against the torturer; when to meet the noise

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Of his Almighty engin he shall hear

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Infernal thunder, and for lightning see
Black fire and horror shot with equal rage
Among his Angels; and his throne it felf
Mixt with TARTAREAN fulphur, and strange fire,

His own invented torments. But perhaps
The way seems difficult and steep, to scale

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With upright wing against a higher foe.
Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench

Of that forgetful lake benumb not still,
That in our proper motion we afcend
Up to our native feat: descent and fall
To us is adverse. Who but felt of late

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When the fierce foe hung on our broken reer
Insulting, and perfu'd us through the deep,

With what compulfion and laborious flight
We funk thus low? th' ascent is eafie then;
Th'event is fear'd; should we again provoke
Our stronger, fome worse way his wrath may find

To our destruction: if there be in Hell

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Fear to be worse destroy'd: what can be worse 85
Than to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn'd
In this abhorred deep to utter woe;
Where pain of inextinguishable fire
Must exercise us without hope of end,
The vassals of his anger, when the scourge
Inexorable and the torturing hour
Calls us to penance? more destroy'd than thus,
We should be quite abolish'd and expire.
What fear we then? what doubt we to incenfe
His utmost ire? which to the height enrag'd,
Will either quite consume us, and reduce
To nothing this essential; happier far,
Than miferable to have eternal being.
Or if our fubstance be indeed divine,
And cannot cease to be, we are at worst
On this fide nothing; and by proof we feel
Our power fufficient to disturb his Heav'n,
And with perpetual inrodes to alarm,
Though inaccessible, his fatal throne:
Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.

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He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd Desperate revenge, and battel dangerous To less than Gods. On the other fide up rose BELIAL, in act more graceful and humane: A fairer perfon lost not Heav'n; he seem'd For dignity compos'd and high exploit: But all was false and hollow; though his tongue Dropt Manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, to perplex and dath Maturest counsels, for his thoughts were low: 115 To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds

Tim'rous

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