Paradise Lost. John Milton

waving: with them rose

      A Forrest huge of Spears: and thronging Helms

      Appear’d, and serried Shields in thick array

      Of depth immeasurable: Anon they move

      In perfect PHALANX to the Dorian mood

      Of Flutes and soft Recorders; such as rais’d

      To highth of noblest temper Hero’s old

      Arming to Battel, and in stead of rage

      Deliberate valour breath’d, firm and unmov’d

      With dread of death to flight or foul retreat,

      Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage

      With solemn touches, troubl’d thoughts, and chase

      Anguish and doubt and fear and sorrow and pain

      From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they

      Breathing united force with fixed thought

      Mov’d on in silence to soft Pipes that charm’d

      Thir painful steps o’re the burnt soyle; and now

      Advanc’t in view they stand, a horrid Front

      Of dreadful length and dazling Arms, in guise

      Of Warriers old with order’d Spear and Shield,

      Awaiting what command thir mighty Chief

      Had to impose: He through the armed Files

      Darts his experienc’t eye, and soon traverse

      The whole Battalion views, thir order due,

      Thir visages and stature as of Gods,

      Thir number last he summs. And now his heart

      Distends with pride, and hardning in his strength

      Glories: For never since created man,

      Met such imbodied force, as nam’d with these

      Could merit more then that small infantry

      Warr’d on by Cranes: though all the Giant brood

      Of PHLEGRA with th’ Heroic Race were joyn’d

      That fought at THEB’S and ILIUM, on each side

      Mixt with auxiliar Gods; and what resounds

      In Fable or ROMANCE of UTHERS Son

      Begirt with BRITISH and ARMORIC Knights;

      And all who since, Baptiz’d or Infidel

      Jousted in ASPRAMONT or MONTALBAN,

      DAMASCO, or MAROCCO, or TREBISOND,

      Or whom BISERTA sent from AFRIC shore

      When CHARLEMAIN with all his Peerage fell

      By FONTARABBIA. Thus far these beyond

      Compare of mortal prowess, yet observ’d

      Thir dread Commander: he above the rest

      In shape and gesture proudly eminent

      Stood like a Towr; his form had yet not lost

      All her Original brightness, nor appear’d

      Less then Arch Angel ruind, and th’ excess

      Of Glory obscur’d: As when the Sun new ris’n

      Looks through the Horizontal misty Air

      Shorn of his Beams, or from behind the Moon

      In dim Eclips disastrous twilight sheds

      On half the Nations, and with fear of change

      Perplexes Monarchs. Dark’n’d so, yet shon

      Above them all th’ Arch Angel: but his face

      Deep scars of Thunder had intrencht, and care

      Sat on his faded cheek, but under Browes

      Of dauntless courage, and considerate Pride

      Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but cast

      Signs of remorse and passion to behold

      The fellows of his crime, the followers rather

      (Far other once beheld in bliss) condemn’d

      For ever now to have their lot in pain,

      Millions of Spirits for his fault amerc’t

      Of Heav’n, and from Eternal Splendors flung

      For his revolt, yet faithfull how they stood,

      Thir Glory witherd. As when Heavens Fire

      Hath scath’d the Forrest Oaks, or Mountain Pines,

      With singed top their stately growth though bare

      Stands on the blasted Heath. He now prepar’d

      To speak; whereat their doubl’d Ranks they bend

      From Wing to Wing, and half enclose him round

      With all his Peers: attention held them mute.

      Thrice he assayd, and thrice in spite of scorn,

      Tears such as Angels weep, burst forth: at last

      Words interwove with sighs found out their way.

      O Myriads of immortal Spirits, O Powers

      Matchless, but with th’ Almighty, and that strife

      Was not inglorious, though th’ event was dire,

      As this place testifies, and this dire change

      Hateful to utter: but what power of mind

      Foreseeing or presaging, from the Depth

      Of knowledge past or present, could have fear’d,

      How such united force of Gods, how such

      As stood like these, could ever know repulse?

      For who can yet beleeve, though after loss,

      That all these puissant Legions, whose exile

      Hath emptied Heav’n, shall faile to re-ascend

      Self-rais’d, and repossess their native seat.

      For me, be witness all the Host of Heav’n,

      If counsels different, or danger shun’d

      By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reigns

      Monarch in Heav’n, till then as one secure

      Sat on his Throne, upheld by old repute,

      Consent or custome, and his Regal State

      Put forth at full, but still his strength conceal’d,

      Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall.

      Henceforth his might we know, and know our own

      So as not either to provoke, or dread

      New warr, provok’t; our better part remains

      To work in close design, by fraud or guile

      What force effected not: that he no less

      At length from us may find, who overcomes

      By force, hath overcome but half his foe.

      Space may produce new Worlds; whereof so rife

      There went a fame in Heav’n that he ere long

      Intended to create, and therein plant

      A generation, whom his choice regard

      Should