Page:Paradise Lost (1667).djvu/34

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Book 1.
Paradise lost.
 So Satan spake, and him BëëlzebubThus answer'd. Leader of those Armies bright,Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foyld,If once they hear that voyce, their liveliest pledgeOf hope in fears and dangers, heard so oftIn worst extreams, and on the perilous edgeOf battel when it rag'd, in all assaultsTheir surest signal, they will soon resumeNew courage and revive, though now they lyeGroveling and prostrate on yon Lake of Fire, 280As we erewhile, astounded and amaz'd,No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious highth. He scarce had ceas't when the superiour FiendWas moving toward the shore; his ponderous shieldEthereal temper, massy, large and round,Behind him cast; the broad circumferenceHung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose OrbThrough Optic Glass the Tuscan Artist viewsAt Ev'ning from the top of Fesole,Or in Valdarno, to descry new Lands, 290Rivers or Mountains in her spotty Globe.His Spear, to equal which the tallest PineHewn on Norwegian hills, to be the MastOf some great Ammiral, were but a wand,He walkt with to support uneasie stepsOver the burning Marie, not like those stepsOn Heavens Azure, and the torrid ClimeSmote on him sore besides, vaulted with Fire;Nathless he so endur'd, till on the BeachOf that inflamed Sea, he stood and call'd 300His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans'tThick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks

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