In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood
Of flutes, and soft recorders; fuch as rais'd
To height of noblest temper heroes old
Arming to battle; and, instead of rage,
Deliberate valour breath'd, firm and unmov'd
With dread of death to flight or foul retreat;
Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage,
With folemn touches, troubled thoughts, and chase
Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and forrow', and pain,
From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they,
Breathing united force, with fixed thought
Mov'd on in filence to soft pipes, that charm'd
Their painful steps o'er the burnt foil: and now
Advanc'd in view they stand, a horrid front
Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise
Of warriors old with order'd spear and shield, 565
Awaiting what command their mighty chief
Had to impose. He through the armed files
Darts his experienc'd eye, and foon traverse
The whole battalion views, their order due,
Their visages and stature as of gods;
Their number last he sums. And now his heart
Distends with pride, and hard'ning in his strength
Glories: for never fince created man
Met such embodied force, as nam'd with these
Could merit more than that finall infantry
Warr'd on by cranes; though all the giant brood
Of Phlegra with th' heroic race were join'd,
That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each fide
Mix'd with auxiliar gods; and what resounds
In fable or romance of Uther's fon
Begirt with British and Armoric knights;
And all who fince, baptiz'd or infidel,
Joufted in Afpramont, or Montalban,
Damafco, Marocco, or Trebifond;
Or whom Biserta fent from Afric shore,
When Charlemagne with all his peerage fell
By Fontarabbia. Thus far these beyond
Compare of mortal prowess, yet obferv'd
Their dread commander: he, above the rest
In shape and gesture proudly eminent,
Stood like a tow'r; his form had yet not lost
All her original brightness, nor appear'd
Less than archangel ruin'd, and th' excess
Of glory' obfcur'd: as when the fun new risen
Looks through the horizontal misty air
Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon,
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd so, yet shone
Above them all th' archangel: but his face
Deep scars of thunder had entrench'd, and care
Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows
Of dauntless courage, and confiderate pride
Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but caft
Signs of remorse and paffion to behold
The fellows of his crime, the followers rather,
(Far other once beheld in bliss,) 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 splendours flung 610
For his revolt; yet faithful how they stood,
Their glory wither'd: as when heaven's fire
Hath scath'd the forest-oaks, or mountain-pines,
With finged top their stately growth, though 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 essay'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn,
Tears, fuch as angels weep, burst forth: At last 620
Words
Words interwove with fighs found out their way.
O myriads of immortal spirits, O powers
Matchless, but with th' Almighty; and that strise
Was not inglorious, though th' event was dire,
As this place testifies, and this dire change,
Hateful to utter: but what power 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 stood like these, could ever know repulse ?
For who can yet believe, though after loss,
That all these puissant legions, whose exile
Hath emptied heav'n, shall fail to re-afcend,
Self rais'd, and repossess their native seat?
For me be witness all the host of heaven,
If counsels different, or danger fhunn'd
By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reigas
Monarch in heaven, till then as one fecure
Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute,
Confent or custom, and his regal state
Put forth at full, but Aill 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, 645.
To work in clofe 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 so rife 650
There went a fame in heaven, that he ere long
Intended to create, and therein plant
A generation, whom his choice regard
Should favour equal to the fons of heaven:
Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps
Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere:
For this infernal pit shall never hold
Celestial spi'rits in bondage, nor th' abyss
Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts
Full counsel must mature: peace is despair'd,
For who can think fubmiflion? War then, war
Open or understood, must be refolv'd.
He spake: and, to confirm his words, outflew 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 High'est, and fierce with grasped arms Clash'd on their founding shields the din of war, Hurling defiance tow'ard the vault of heaven.
There stood a hill not far, whose grifsly top 670
Belch'd fire and rolling fmoke; 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 brigade hasten'd: as when bands
Of pioneers, with spade and pick-ax arm'd,..
Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field,
Or cast a rampart. Mammon led them on;
Mammon, the least erected spi'rit that fell
From heav'n; for e'en in heav'n his looks and thoughts
Were always downward bent, admiring more
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 fuggestion taught,
Ransack'd the centre, and with impious hands
Rifled the bowels of their mother earth
For treafures better hid. Soon had his crew
Open'd into the hill a spacious wound,
And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire 690
That riches grow in hell; that foil may best
Deferve 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 outdone
By spirits reprobate, and in an hour
What in an age they with incessant toil
And hands innumerable scarce perform.
Nigh on the plain in many cells prepar'd,
That underneath had veins of liquid fire
Sluic'd from the lake, a second multitude
With wond'rous art found out the maffy ore,
Sev'ring each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross:
A third as foon had form'd within the ground 705
A various mould, and from the boiling cells
By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook,..
As in an organ, from one blast of wind,
To many a row of pipes the found-board breathes..
Anon out of the earth a fabric huge
Rofe like an exhalation, with the found:
Of dulcet symphonies and voices fweet,
Built like a temple, where pilasters round
Were fet, and Doric pillars overlaid
With golden architrave; nor did there want
Cornice or freeze, with bossy sculptures graven;
The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon,
Nor great Alcairo fuch magnificence
Equall'd in all their glories, to infhrine.
Belus or Serapis their gods, or feat.
Their kings, when Egypt with Affyria Arove
In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile
Stood fix'd her stately height; and strait the doors.
Opening their brazen folds discover wide
Within her ample spaces, o'er the smooth
And level pavement: from the arched roof,
Pendent by fubtile magie, many a row
Of starry lamps and blazing creffets, fed
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