LITMIR.BIZ

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power with adverse power oppos’d

       In dubious Battel on the Plains of Heav’n,

       And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?

       All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,

       And study of revenge, immortal hate,

       And courage never to submit or yield:

       And what is else not to be overcome?

       That Glory never shall his wrath or might

       Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace

       With suppliant knee, and deifie his power

       Who from the terrour of this Arm so late

       Doubted his Empire, that were low indeed,

       That were an ignominy and shame beneath

       This downfall; since by Fate the strength of Gods

       And this Empyreal substance cannot fail,

       Since through experience of this great event

       In Arms not worse, in foresight much advanc’t,

       We may with more successful hope resolve

       To wage by force or guile eternal Warr

       Irreconcileable, to our grand Foe,

       Who now triumphs, and in th’ excess of joy

       Sole reigning holds the Tyranny of Heav’n.

      So spake th’ Apostate Angel, though in pain,

       Vaunting aloud, but rackt with deep despare:

       And him thus answer’d soon his bold Compeer.

      O Prince, O Chief of many Throned Powers,

       That led th’ imbattelld Seraphim to Warr

       Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds

       Fearless, endanger’d Heav’ns perpetual King;

       And put to proof his high Supremacy,

       Whether upheld by strength, or Chance, or Fate,

       Too well I see and rue the dire event,

       That with sad overthrow and foul defeat

       Hath lost us Heav’n, and all this mighty Host

       In horrible destruction laid thus low,

       As far as Gods and Heav’nly Essences

       Can Perish: for the mind and spirit remains

       Invincible, and vigour soon returns,

       Though all our Glory extinct, and happy state

       Here swallow’d up in endless misery.

       But what if he our Conquerour, (whom I now

       Of force believe Almighty, since no less

       Then such could hav orepow’rd such force as ours)

       Have left us this our spirit and strength intire

       Strongly to suffer and support our pains,

       That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,

       Or do him mightier service as his thralls

       By right of Warr, what e’re his business be

       Here in the heart of Hell to work in Fire,

       Or do his Errands in the gloomy Deep;

       What can it then avail though yet we feel

       Strength undiminisht, or eternal being

       To undergo eternal punishment?

       Whereto with speedy words th’ Arch-fiend reply’d.

      Fall’n Cherube, to be weak is miserable

       Doing or Suffering: but of this be sure,

       To do ought good never will be our task,

       But ever to do ill our sole delight,

       As being the contrary to his high will

       Whom we resist. If then his Providence

       Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,

       Our labour must be to pervert that end,

       And out of good still to find means of evil;

       Which oft times may succeed, so as perhaps

       Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb

       His inmost counsels from their destind aim.

       But see the angry Victor hath recall’d

       His Ministers of vengeance and pursuit

       Back to the Gates of Heav’n: The Sulphurous Hail

       Shot after us in storm, oreblown hath laid

       The fiery Surge, that from the Precipice

       Of Heav’n receiv’d us falling, and the Thunder,

       Wing’d with red Lightning and impetuous rage,

       Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now

       To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.

       Let us not slip th’ occasion, whether scorn,

       Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.

       Seest thou yon dreary Plain, forlorn and wilde,

       The seat of desolation, voyd of light,

       Save what the glimmering of these livid flames

       Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend

       From off the tossing of these fiery waves,

       There rest, if any rest can harbour there,

       And reassembling our afflicted Powers,

       Consult how we may henceforth most offend

       Our Enemy, our own loss how repair,

       How overcome this dire Calamity,

       What reinforcement we may gain from Hope,

       If not what resolution from despare.

      Thus Satan talking to his neerest Mate

       With Head up-lift above the wave, and Eyes

       That sparkling blaz’d, his other Parts besides

       Prone on the Flood, extended long and large

       Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge

       As whom the Fables name of monstrous size,

       Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr’d on Jove, Briarios or Typhon, whom the Den By ancient Tarsus held, or that Sea-beast Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hugest that swim th’ Ocean stream: Him haply slumbring on the Norway foam The Pilot of some small night-founder’d Skiff, Deeming some Island, oft, as Sea-men tell, With fixed Anchor in his skaly rind Moors by his side under the Lee, while Night Invests the Sea, and wished Morn delayes: So stretcht out huge in length the Arch-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 permission of all-ruling Heaven Left him at large to his own dark designs, That with reiterated crimes he might Heap on himself damnation, while he sought Evil to others, and enrag’d might see How all his malice serv’d but to bring forth Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shewn On Man by him seduc’t, but on himself Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance pour’d. Forthwith upright he rears from off the Pool His mighty Stature; on each hand the flames Drivn backward slope their pointing spires, & rowld In billows, leave i’th’ midst a horrid Vale. Then with expanded wings he stears his flight Aloft, incumbent on the dusky Air That felt unusual weight, till on dry Land He lights, if it were Land that ever burn’d With solid, as the Lake with liquid fire; And such appear’d in hue, as when the force Of subterranean wind transports a Hill Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter’d side Of thundring Aetna, whose combustible And fewel’d entrals thence conceiving Fire, Sublim’d with Mineral fury, aid the Winds,

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