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By ancient Tarfus held, or that fea-beaft
Leviathan, which God of all his works
Created hugest that swim th' ocean stream:
Him haply flumb'ring on the Norway foam
The pilot of fome fmall night-founder'd skiff
Deeming fome ifland, oft, as feamen tell,
With fixed anchor in his fcaly rind

Moors by his fide under the lee, while night
Invests the fea, and wished morn delays:

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So ftretch'd out huge in length the ar'ch-fiend lay
Chain'd on the burning lake: nor ever thence
Had ris'n, or heav'd his head, but that the will
And high permiffion of all-ruling Heav'n
Left him at large to his own dark defigns;
That with reiterated crimes he might
Heap on himself damnation, while he fought
Evil to others; and enrag'd might fee
How all his malice ferv'd but to bring forth
Infinite goodness, grace and mercy fhown
On man by him feduc'd, but on himself
Treble confufion, wrath and vengeance pour'd. 220
Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool
His mighty ftature; on each hand the flames
Driv'n'backward, flope their pointing fpires, and roll'd
In billows, leave i' th' midst a horrid vale.

Then with expanded wings he fteers his flight 225
Aloft, incumbent on the dufky air,

That felt unusual weight, till on dry land
He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd
With folid, as the lake with liquid fire;
And fuch appear'd in hue, as when the force
Of fubterranean wind transports a hill
Torn from Pelorus, or the fhatter'd fide
Of thund'ring Etna, whofe combustiblę
And fuel'd intrails thence conceiving fire,

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Sublim'd

Sublim'd with mineral fury, aid the winds,

And leave a finged bottom all involv'd

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With stench and smoke: fuch refting found the sole
Of unbleft feet. Him follow'd his next mate,
Both glorying to have 'fcap'd the Stygian flood
As gods, and by their own recover'd strength,
Not by the fuff'rance of fupernal pow'r.

Is this the region, this the foil, the clime,
Said then the loft archangel, this the feat

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That we must change for heav'n, this mournful gloom For that celestial light? B' it so, since he

Who now as Sov'reign can dispose and bid

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What shall be right: fartheft from him is best, Whom reas'n hath equall'd, force hath made fupreme Above his equals. Farewel, happy fields,

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Where joy for ever dwells! Hail horrors, hail 250
Infernal world! and thou profoundest hell.
Receive thy new poffeffor; one who brings
A mind not to be chang'd by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n.
What matter where if I be still the fame,
And what I fhould be, all but lefs than he
Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence
Here we may reign fecure, and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, though in hell:
Better to reign in hell, than serve in Heav'n.
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,
Th' affociates and copartners of our lofs,
Lie thus aftonish'd on th' oblivious pool,
And call them not to fhare with us their part
In this unhappy manfion, or once more
With rallied arms to try what may be yet:

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Regain'da

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Regain'd in heav'n, or what more loft in hell? 270
So Satan fpake, and him Beelzebub
Thus answer'd. Leader of thofe armies bright,
Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foil'd,
If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge
Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft
In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge
Of battle when it rag'd, in all affaults
Their fureft fignal, they will foon resume
New courage and revive, though now they lie
Grov❜ling and proftrate on yon lake of fire,
As we erewhile, aftounded and amaz'd,

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No wonder, fall'n fuch a pernicious height.
He scarce had ceas'd when the fuperior fiend

Was moving tow'ard the fhore; his pond'rous fhield,
Ethereal temper, maffy, large and round,
Behind him caft; the broad circumference

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Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb
Through optic glafs the Tufcan artist views
At evening from the top of Fefolé,
Or in Valdarno, to defcry new lands,
Rivers or mountains in her fpotty globe.
His fpear, to equal which the tallest pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the maft
Of fome great admiral, were but a wand,
He walk'd with to fupport uneasy steps
Over the burning marle, (not like those steps
On heaven's azure,) and the torrid clime
Smote on him fore befides, vaulted with fire:
Nathlefs he fo endur'd, till on the beach
Of that inflamed fea he stood, and call'd
His legions, angel- forms, who lay intrane'd
Thick as autumnal leaves that ftrow the brooks
In Vallombrofa, where th' Etrurian fhades
High over-arch'd imbow'r; or scatter'd fedge

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waves o'erthrew

Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd
Hath vex'd the Red-Sea coaft, who
Bufiris and his Memphian chivalry,
While with perfidious hatred they purfi'd
The fojourners of Goshen, who beheld
From the fafe fhore their floating carcafes.

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And broken chariot wheels: So thick beftrown
Abject and loft lay thefe, cov'ring the flood,
Under amazement of their hideous change.
He call'd fo loud, that all the hollow deep
Of hell refounded. Princes, potentates,

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Warriors, the flow'r of heav'n, once yours, now lost,

If fuch aftonishment as this can feize

Eternal spirits; or have ye chos'n this place

After the teil of battle to repofe

Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find
To flumber here, as in the vales of heav'n?
Or in this abject pofture have ye fworn
To' adore the conqueror? who now beholds
Cherub and feraph rolling in the flood
With fcatter'd arms and enfigns, till anon.
His fwift pursuers from heav'n-gates difcern
Th' advantage, and defcending tread us down
Thus drooping, or with linked thunder-bolts
Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf.
Awake, arife, or be for ever fall'n.

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They heard, and were abafh'd, and up they fprung.
Upon the wing; as when men wont to watch
On duty, fleeping found by whom they dread,
Rouse and beftir themselves ere well awake.

Nor did they not perceive the evil plight
In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel;
Yet to their gen'ral's voice they foon obey'd
Innumerable. As when the potent rod

Of Amram's fon, in Egypt's evil day,

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Way'd:

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Wav'd round the coaft, up call'd a pitchy cloud 340
Of locuits, warpi on the eastern wind,
That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung
Like night, and darken'd all the land of Nile:
So numberless were those bad angels feen
Hovering on wing under the cope of hell,
'Twixt upper, nether, and furrounding fires;
Till, as a fignal giv'n, th' uplifted spear
Of their great Sultan waving to direct
Their course, in even balance down they light
On the firm brimftone, and fill all the plain ;.
A multitude, like which the populous north
Pour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass
Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous fons
Came like a deluge on the fouth, and fpread
Beneath Gibraltar to the Libian fands.
Forthwith from every fquadron and each band
The heads and leaders thither hafte where flood
Their great commander; god-like fhapes and forms
Excelling human, princely dignities,

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And pow'rs that erft in heaven fat on thrones; 360
Tho' of their names in heav'nly records now

Be no memorial, blotted out and raz'd
By their rebellion from the books of life.

Nor had they yet among the fons of Eve

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Got them new names; till wand'ring o'er the earth,
Through God's high sufferance for the trial of man,
By falfities and lies the greatest part

Of mankind they corrupted to forfake
God their Creator, and th' invifible

Glory of him that made them to transform
Oft to the image of a brute, adorn'd

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With gay religions full of pomp and gold,

And devils to adore for deities:

Then were they known to men by various names,

And

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