Compare of mortal prowess, yet observ'd Their dread commander: he, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tower: his form had yet not lost, All her original brightness; nor appear'd Less than arch-angel ruin'd, and the excess Of glory obscur'd: as when the sun, 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 the arch-angel: but his face Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd; and care Sat on his faded cheek; but under brows Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride, Waiting revenge.
Nor was his name unheard, or unador'd In ancient Greece;-and in Ausonian land Men call'd him Mulciber; and how he fell From heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements. From morn To noon he fell ;-from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith like a falling star.
THE FALLEN ANGELS HEARD RISING FROM COUNCIL.
Their rising all at once was as the sound
Of thunder heard remote.
SATAN ON THE WING FOR EARTH.
Meanwhile the adversary of God and man, Satan, with thoughts inflam'd of highest design, Puts on swift wings, and towards the gates of hell Explores his solitary flight: sometimes
He scours the right-hand coast, sometimes the left; Now shaves with level wing the deep; then soars Up to the fiery concave towering high. As when far off at sea a fleet descried Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles
Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring Their spicy drugs; they, on the trading flood, Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape,
Ply stemming nightly towards the pole: So seemed Far off the flying Fiend.
THE MEETING OF SATAN AND DEATH.
If shape it might be call'd that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb; Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, For each seem'd either: black it stood as Night, Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell,
And shook a dreadful dart; what seem'd his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on.
Satan was now at hand, and from his seat
The monster moving onward came as fast
With horrid strides; Hell trembled as he strode. The undaunted Fiend what this might be admir'd, Admir'd, not fear'd; God and his Son except, Created thing naught valued he, nor shunn'd; And with disdainful look thus first began:- "Whence and what art thou, execrable shape! That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated front athwart my way
To yonder gates? through them I mean to pass, That be assur'd, with leave unask'd of thee: Retire, or taste thy folly; and learn by proof, Hell-born! not to contend with Spirits of Heaven." To whom the Goblin, full of wrath, replied :- "Art thou that Traitor-angel; art thou he Who first broke peace in heaven, and faith, till then Unbroken; and in proud rebellious arms Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons Conjur'd against the Highest; for which both thou And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd To waste eternal days in wo and pain? And reckon'st thou thyself with Spirits of Heaven, Hell-doom'd! and breath'st defiance here and scorn, Where I reign king, and to enrage thee more, Thy king and lord? Back to thy punishment, False fugitive! and to thy speed add wings, Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue
Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart, Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before." So spake the grizly Terror, and in shape, So speaking and so threatening, grew ten-fold More dreadful and deform. On the other side Incens'd with indignation, Satan stood Unterrified; and like a comet burn'd, That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head Levelled his deadly aim; their fatal hands No second stroke intend; and such a frown
Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds With Heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on Over the Caspian, then stand front to front, Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow To join their dark encounter in mid air: So frown'd the mighty combatants, that hell
Grew darker at their frown; so match'd they stood; For never but once more was either like
To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds Had been achiev'd, whereof all hell had rung, Had not the snaky Sorceress that sat Fast by hell-gate, and kept the fatal key,
Risen, and with hideous outcry rush'd between.
Hence, loathed Melancholy,
Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born
In Stygian cave forlorn,
'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell,
Where brooding Darkness spreads her jealous wings,
And the night-raven sings;
There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks
As ragged as thy locks,
In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
But come, thou goddess fair and free, In heaven yclept Euphrosyne, And by men, heart-easing Mirth; Whom lovely Venus, at a birth With two sister Graces more, To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore: Or whether, as some sager sing,1
The frolic wind, that breathes the spring,
Zephyr with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a Maying,
There on beds of violets blue
And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew, Fill'd her with thee, a daughter fair, So buxom, blithe and debonair. Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest and youthful Jollity,
To live with her, and live with thee, In unreproved pleasures free; To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing, startle the dull night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the sweet-briar, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine;
While the cock with lively din, Scatters the rear of darkness thin, And to the stack or the barn-door Stoutly struts his dames before: Oft listening how the hounds and horn Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, From the side of some hoar hill, Through the high wood echoing shrill: Sometimes walking, not unseen, By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, Right against the eastern gate, Where the great Sun begins his state, Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale,4 Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures,
Whilst the landskip round it measures;
Russet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do stray; Mountains, on whose barren breast The laboring clouds do often rest; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks and rivers wide. Towers and battlements it sees Bosom'd high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies, The cynosure of neighboring eyes.5 Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes, From betwixt two aged oaks ; Where Corydon and Thyrsis, met, Are at their savory dinner set
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