The Poetical Works of John Milton


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Up rose the Victor Angels, and to Arms  
The matin Trumpet Sung: in Arms they stood  
Of Golden Panoplie, refulgent Host,  
Soon banded; others from the dawning Hills  
Lookd round, and Scouts each Coast light-armed scoure,  
Each quarter, to descrie the distant foe,  
Where lodg'd, or whither fled, or if for fight,  
In motion or in alt: him soon they met  
530  
Under spred Ensignes moving nigh, in slow  
But firm Battalion; back with speediest Sail  
Zephiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing,  
Came flying, and in mid Aire aloud thus cri'd.  
Arme, Warriours, Arme for fight, the foe at hand,  
Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit  
This day, fear not his flight; so thick a Cloud  
He comes, and settl'd in his face I see  
Sad resolution and secure: let each  
540  
His Adamantine coat gird well, and each  
Fit well his Helme, gripe fast his orbed Shield,  
Born eevn or high, for this day will pour down,  
If I conjecture aught, no drizling showr,  
But ratling storm of Arrows barbd with fire.  
So warnd he them aware themselves, and soon  
In order, quit of all impediment;  
Instant without disturb they took Allarm,  
And onward move Embattelld; when behold  
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Page
405 406 407 408 409

Quick Jump
1 198 395 593 790