The Poetical Works of John Milton


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Thrones and imperial Powers, off-spring of heav'n,  
Ethereal Vertues; or these Titles now  
310  
Must we renounce, and changing stile be call'd  
Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote  
Inclines, here to continue, and build up here  
A growing Empire; doubtless; while we dream,  
And know not that the King of Heav'n hath doom'd  
This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat  
Beyond his Potent arm, to live exempt  
From Heav'ns high jurisdiction, in new League  
Banded against his Throne, but to remaine  
In strictest bondage, though thus far remov'd,  
Under th' inevitable curb, reserv'd  
320  
His captive multitude: For he, be sure,  
In highth or depth, still first and last will Reign  
Sole King, and of his Kingdom loose no part  
By our revolt, but over Hell extend  
His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule  
Us here, as with his Golden those in Heav'n.  
What sit we then projecting Peace and Warr?  
Warr hath determin'd us, and foild with loss  
Irreparable; tearms of peace yet none  
330  
Voutsaf't or sought; for what peace will be giv'n  
To us enslav'd, but custody severe,  
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment  
Inflicted? and what peace can we return,  
250  


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248 249 250 251 252

Quick Jump
1 198 395 593 790