The Poetical Works of John Milton


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407 408 409 410 411

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With hideous orifice gap't on us wide,  
Portending hollow truce; at each behind  
A Seraph stood, and in his hand a Reed  
Stood waving tipt with fire; while we suspense,  
Collected stood within our thoughts amus'd,  
Not long, for sudden all at once thir Reeds  
Put forth, and to a narrow vent appli'd  
580  
With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame,  
But soon obscur'd with smoak, all Heav'n appeerd,  
From those deep-throated Engins belcht, whose roar  
Emboweld with outragious noise the Air,  
And all her entrails tore, disgorging foule  
Thir devillish glut, chaind Thunderbolts and Hail  
Of Iron Globes, which on the Victor Host  
Level'd, with such impetuous furie smote,  
That whom they hit, none on thir feet might stand,  
Though standing else as Rocks, but down they fell  
By thousands, Angel on Arch-Angel rowl'd;  
The sooner for thir Arms, unarm'd they might  
Have easily as Spirits evaded swift  
590  
By quick contraction or remove; but now  
Foule dissipation follow'd and forc't rout;  
Nor serv'd it to relax thir serried files.  
What should they do? if on they rusht, repulse  
Repeated, and indecent overthrow  
600  
Doubl'd, would render them yet more despis'd,  
409  


Page
407 408 409 410 411

Quick Jump
1 198 395 593 790