That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated front athwart my way To yonder gates? through them I mean to pass, That be assur'd, without leave ask'd of thee: Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of Heaven."
To whom the goblin full of wrath replied, "Art thou that traitor-angel, art thou he, Who first broke peace in Heaven, and faith, till then Unbroken; and in proud rebellious arms Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons Conjúr'd against the Highest; for which both thou And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd To waste eternal days in woe and pain?
And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of Heaven, Hell-doom'd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn, Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, Thy king and lord? Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before."
So spake the grisly terror, and in shape, So speaking and so threatening, grew ten-fold More dreadful and deform. On the other side, Incens'd with indignation, Satan stood Unterrified, and like a comet burn'd, That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head Levell'd his deadly aim; their fatal hands No second stroke intend; and such a frown Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds, With Heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on Over the Caspian, then stand front to front, Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow To join their dark encounter in mid air:
So frown'd the mighty combatants, that Hell Grew darker at their frown; so match'd they stood; For never but once more was either like
To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds Had been achiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung, Had not the snaky sorceress, that sat Fast by Hell-gate, and kept the fatal key, Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. "O father, what intends thy hand," she cried,
"Against thy only son? What fury, O son, Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart Against thy father's head? and know'st for whom? For him who sits above and laughs the while At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids; His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both." She spake, and at her words the hellish pest Forbore; then these to her Satan return'd.
"So strange thy outery, and thy words so strange Thou interposest, that my sudden hand, Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds What it intends; till first I know of thee,
All on a sudden, miserable pain Surpris'd thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swum In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast Threw forth till, on the left side opening wide, Likest to thee in shape and countenance bright Then shining heavenly fair, a goddess arm'd, Out of thy head I sprung: amazement seiz'd All the host of Heaven; back they recoil'd afraid At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a sign Portentous held me; but, familiar grown, I pleas'd, and with attractive graces won The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing Becam'st enamor'd, and such joy thou took'st With me in secret, that my womb conceiv'd A growing burden. Meanwhile war arose, And fields were fought in Heaven; wherein re-
(For what could else?) to our Almighty Foe Clear victory; to our part loss and rout, Through all the empyréan; down they fell Driven headlong from the pitch of Heaven, down Into this deep; and in the general fall I also; at which time, this powerful key Into my hand was given, with charge to keep These gates for ever shut, which none can pass Without my opening. Pensive here I sat Alone; but long I sat not, till my womb, Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown, Prodigious motion felt, and rueful throes. At last this odious offspring whom thou seest, Thine own begotten, breaking violent way Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew Transform'd: but he my inbred enemy Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart Made to destroy! I fled, and cried out Death! Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh'd From all her caves, and back resounded Death! I fled, but he pursued, (though more, it seems, Inflam'd with lust than rage,) and, swifter far, Me overtook his mother all dismay'd, And in embraces forcible and foul Engendering with me, of that rape begot These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry Surround me, as thou saw'st, hourly conceiv'd And hourly born, with sorrow infinite To me; for, when they list, into the womb That bred them they return, and howl and gnaw My bowels, their repast; then bursting forth Afresh with conscious terrors vex me round, That rest or intermission none I find. Before mine eyes in opposition sits Grim Death, my son and foe; who sets them on, And me his parent would full soon devour For want of other prey, but that he knows His end with mine involv'd; and knows that I' Should prove a bitter morsel, and his bane, Whenever that shall be; so Fate pronounc'd.
What thing thou art, thus double-form'd; and why But thou, O father, I forewarn thee, shun In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st
Me father, and that phantasm call'st my son: I know thee not, nor ever saw till now Sight more detestable than him and thee."
To whom thus the portress of Hell-gate replied, "Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem Now in thine eye so foul? once deem'd so fair In Heaven, when at the assembly, and in sight Of all the seraphim with thee combin'd In bold conspiracy 'gainst Heaven's King,
His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope To be invulnerable in those bright arms, Though temper'd heavenly; for that mortal dint, Save he who reigns above, none can resist." She finish'd; and the subtle fiend his lore Soon learn'd, now milder, and thus answer'd smooth. "Dear daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy sire,
And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledgo Of dalliance had with thee in Heaven, and joys
Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change So wide they stood, and like a furnace mouth Befall'n us, unforeseen, unthought of; know,
I come no enemy, but to set free From out this dark and dismal house of pain Both him and thee, and all the heavenly host Of spirits, that, in our just pretences arm'd, Fell with us from on high: from them I go This uncouth errand sole; and one for all Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread The unsounded deep, and through the void immense To search with wondering quest a place foretold Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now Created vast and round, a place of bliss In the purlieus of Heaven, and therein plac'd A race of upstart creatures, to supply Perhaps our vacant room; though more remov'd, Lest Heaven, surcharg'd with potent multitude, Might hap to move new broils. Be this or aught Than this more secret now design'd, I haste
To know; and, this once known, shall soon return, And bring ye to the place where thou and Death Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen Wing silently the buxom air, imbalm'd With odors: there ye shall be fed and fill'd Immeasurably; all things shall be your prey."
Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame. Before their eyes in sudden view appear The secrets of the hoary deep; a dark Illimitable ocean, without bound,
Without dimension, where length, breadth, and
And time, and place, are lost; where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise
Of endless wars, and by confusion stand.
For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions
Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring Their embryon atoms; they around the flag Of each his faction, in their several clans, Light-arm'd or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift, or slow Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the sands Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil,
He ceas'd, for both seem'd highly pleas'd, and The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave,
Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear His famine should be fill'd; and blest his maw Destin'd to that good hour: no less rejoic'd His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire.
Levied to side with warring winds, and poise Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere He rules a moment: Chaos umpire sits, And by decision more embroils the fray By which he reigns: next him high arbiter Chance governs all. Into this wild abyss,
Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, But all these in their pregnant causes mix'd Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain His dark materials to create more worlds; Into this wild abyss the wary fiend
Pondering his voyage: for no narrow frith He had to cross. Nor was his ear less peal'd With noises loud and ruinous, (to compare Great things with small,) that when Bellona storms With all her battering engines bent to rase Some capital city; or less than if this frame Of Heaven were falling, and these elements In mutiny had from her axle torn
"The key of this infernal pit by due, And by command of Heaven's all-powerful King, Stood on the brink of Hell, and look'd a while,
I keep, by him forbidden to unlock
These adamantine gates; against all force Death ready stands to interpose his dart, Fearless to be o'ermatch'd by living might. But what owe I to his commands above Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down Into this gloom of Tartarus profound, To sit in hateful office here confin'd, Inhabitant of Heaven, and heavenly-born, Here in perpetual agony and pain, With terrors and with clamors compass'd round Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed? Thou art my father, thou my author, thou My being gav'st me; whom should I obey But thee? whom follow? thou wilt bring me soon To that new world of light and bliss, among The gods who live at ease, where I shall reign At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems Thy daughter and thy darling, without end."
Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, Sad instrument of all our woe, she took; And, towards the gate rolling her bestial train, Forthwith the huge portcullis high up-drew, Which but herself, not all the Stygian powers Could once have mov'd; then in the key-hole
The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar Of massy iron or solid rock with ease Unfastens. On a sudden open fly
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook Of Erebus. She open'd, but to shut Excell'd her power; the gates wide open stood, That with extended wings a banner'd host, Under spread ensigns marching, might pass through With horse and chariots-rank'd in loose array;
The stedfast Earth. At last his sail-broad vans He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoke Uplifted spurns the ground; thence many a league, As in a cloudy chair, ascending rides Audacious; but, that seat soon failing, meets A vast vacuity: all unawares
Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb down he drops Ten thousand fathoms deep; and to this hour Down had been falling, had not by ill chance The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud, Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him As many miles aloft: that fury stay'd, Quench'd in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea, Nor good dry land: nigh founder'd on he fares, Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, Half flying; behoves him now both oar and sail. As when a gryphon, through the wilderness With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd The guarded gold: so eagerly the fiend
O'er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or
With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies; At length a universal hubbub wild Of stunning sounds, and voices all confus'd, Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear With loudest vehemence: thither he plies,
Undaunted to meet there whatever power Or spirit of the nethermost abyss
Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies
Mov'd on, with difficulty and labor he; But, he once past, soon after, when man fell, Strange alteration! Sin and Death amain Following his track, such was the will of Heaven,
Bordering on light; when straight behold the Pav'd after him a broad and beaten way
Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread Wide on the wasteful deep: with him enthron'd Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things, The consort of his reign; and by them stood Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name Of Demogorgon! Rumor next and Chance, And Tumult and Confusion all embroil'd, And Discord with a thousand various mouths. To whom Satan turning boldly, thus: "Ye powers And spirits of this nethermost abyss, Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, With purpose to explore or to disturb The secrets of your realm; but, by constraint Wandering this darksome desert, as my way Lies through your spacious empire up to light, Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds Confine with Heaven; or if some other place, From your dominion won, the ethereal King Possesses lately, thither to arrive
I travel this profound: direct my course; Directed, no mean recompense it brings To your behoof, if I that region lost, All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce To her original darkness, and your sway, (Which is my present journey) and once more Erect the standard there of ancient Night: Yours be the advantage all, mine the revenge."
Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old, With faltering speech and visage incompos'd, Answer'd. "I know thee, stranger, who thou art, That mighty leading angel, who of late Made head against Heaven's King, though over-
I saw and heard for such a numerous host Fled not in silence through the frighted deep, With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded; and Heaven-gates Pour'd out by millions her victorious bands Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here
• Keep residence: if all I can will serve That little which is left so to defend, Encroach'd on still through your intestine broils Weakening the sceptre of old Night: first Hell, Your dungeon, stretching far and wide beneath; Now lately Heaven and Earth, another world, Hung o'er my realm, link'd in a golden chain To that side Heaven from whence your legions
If that way be your walk, you have not far; So much the nearer danger; go, and speed; Havoc, and spoil, and ruin, are my gain."
He ceas'd; and Satan staid not to reply, But, glad that now his sea should find a shore, With fresh alacrity, and force renew'd, Springs upward, like a pyramid of fire, Into the wild expanse, and, through the shock Of fighting elements, on all sides round Environ'd, wins his way; harder beset And more endanger'd, than when Argo pass'd Through Bosporus, betwixt the justling rocks! Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunn'd Charybdis, and by the other whirlpool steer'd. So he with difficulty and labor hard
Over the dark abyss, whose boiling gulf Tamely endur'd a bridge of wondrous length, From Hell continued reaching the utmost orb Of this frail world; by which the spirits perverse With easy intercourse pass to and fro To tempt or punish mortals, except whom God, and good angels, guard by special grace. But now at last the sacred influence
Of light appears, and from the walls of Heaven Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night A glimmering dawn: here Nature first begins Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire
As from her outmost works a broken foe With tumult less, and with less hostile din, That Satan with less toil, and now with ease Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light, And, like a weather-beaten vessel, holds Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn; Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, Weighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold Far off the empyreal Heaven, extended wide In circuit, undetermin'd square or round, With opal towers and battlements adorn'd Of living sapphire, once his native seat; And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude close by the Moon. Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge, Accurs'd, and in a cursed hour he hies.
God, sitting on his throne, sees Satan flying towards this world, then newly created; shows him to the Son, who sat at his right hand; foretells the success of Satan in perverting mankind; clears his own justice and wisdom from all imputation, having created Man free, and able enough to have withstood his tempter; yet declares his purpose of grace towards him, in regard he fell not of his own malice, as did Satan, but by him seduced. The Son of God renders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his gracious purpose towards Man: but God again declares, that grace cannot be extended towards Man without the satisfaction of divine justice: Man hath offended the majesty of God by aspiring to godhead, and therefore, with all his progeny, devoted to death, must die, unless some one can be found sufficient to answer for his offence, and undergo his punishment. The Son of God freely offers himself a ransom for Man: the Father accepts him, ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all names in Heaven and Earth; commands all the angels to adore him: They obey, and hymning to their harps in full quire, celebrate the Father and the Son. Meanwhile Satan alights upon the bare convex of this world's outermost orb; where wandering, he first finds a place, since called the Limbo of Vanity: what persons and things fly up thither thence comes
to the gate of Heaven, described ascending by About him all the sanctities of Heaven stairs, and the waters above the firmament that Stood thick as stars, and from his sight received flow about it: his passage thence to the orb of Beatitude past utterance; on his right the Sun; he finds there Uriel, the regent of that The radiant image of his glory sat, orb, but first changes himself into the shape of His only Son; on earth he first beheld a meaner angel; and, pretending a zealous desire Our two first parents, yet the only two to behold the new creation, and Man whom Of mankind, in the happy garden plac'd, God had placed here, inquires of him the place Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love, of his habitation, and is directed: alights first on Uninterrupted joy, unrivall'd love, mount Niphates.
HAIL, holy Light, offspring of Heaven, first-born, Or of the Eternal coeternal beam May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate. Or hear'st thou rather, pure ethereal stream, Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the Sun, Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless infinite. Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, Escap'd the Stygian pool, though long detain'd In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight Through utter and through middle darkness borne, With other notes than to the Orphéan lyre, I sung of Chaos and eternal Night; Taught by the heavenly Muse to venture down The dark descent, and up to reascend, Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe, And feel thy sovran vital lamp; but thou Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn; So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs, Or dim suffusion veil'd. Yet not the more Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath, That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow, Nightly I visit: nor sometimes forget Those other two equall'd with me in fate, So were I equall'd with them in renown, Blind Thamyris, and blind Mæonides, And Tiresias, and Phineus, prophets old: Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank
Of Nature's works to me expung'd and ras'd, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou, celestial Light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate; there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight.
Now had the Almighty Father from above, From the pure empyréan where he sits High thron'd above all height, bent down his eye His own works and their works at once to view:
In blissful solitude; he then survey'd Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there Coasting the wall of Heaven on this side Night In the dun air sublime, and ready now To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feet, On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd Firm land imbosom'd without firmament, Uncertain which, in ocean or in air. Him God beholding from his prospect high, Wherein past, present, future, he beholds, Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake.
"Only begotten Son, seest thou what rage Transports our adversary? whom no bounds Prescrib'd, no bars of Hell, nor all the chains Heap'd on him there, nor yet the main abyss Wide interrupt, can hold; so bent he seems On desperate revenge, that shall redound Upon his own rebellious head. And now, Through all restraint broke loose, he wings his way Not far off Heaven, in the precincts of light, Directly towards the new-created world, And Man there plac'd, with purpose to essay If him by force he can destroy, or, worse, By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert; For Man will hearken to his glozing lies And easily transgress the sole command, Sole pledge of his obedience: so will fall He and his faithless progeny. Whose fault? Whose but his own? Ingrate, he had of me All he could have; I made him just and right, Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. Such I created all the ethereal powers And spirits, both them who stood, and them who
Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. Not free, what proof could they have given sincere Of true allegiance, constant faith, or love, Where only what they needs must do appear'd, Not what they would? what praise could they re-
What pleasure I from such obedience paid, When will and reason (reason also is choice) Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil'd, Made passive both, had serv'd necessity, Not me? They therefore, as to right belong'd, So were created, nor can justly accuse Their maker, or their making, or their fate, As if predestination over-rul'd Their will, dispos'd by absolute decree Or high foreknowledge; they themselves decreed Their own revolt, not I; if I foreknew,
Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, Which had no less prov'd certain unforeknown. So without least impúlse or shadow of fate, Or aught by me immutably foreseen,
They trespass, authors to themselves in all Both what they judge, and what they choose;
I form'd them free and free they must remain, Till they enthral themselves; I else must change Their nature, and revoke the high decrce
Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd Their freedom; they themselves ordain'd their fall. The first sort by their own suggestion fell, Self-tempted, self-deprav'd: Man falls, deceiv'd By the other first: Man therefore shall find grace, The other none: in mercy and justice both, Through Heaven and Earth, so shall my glory
But mercy, first and last, shall brightest shine."
Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance
All Heaven, and in the blessed spirits elect Sense of new joy ineffable diffus'd. Beyond compare the Son of God was seen Most glorious: in him all his Father shone Substantially express'd; and in his face Divine compassion visibly appear'd, Love without end, and without measure grace, Which uttering, thus he to his Father spake:
"O Father, gracious was that word which clos'd Thy sovran sentence, that Man should find grace; For which both Heaven and Earth shall high extol Thy praises, with the innumerable sound Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne Encompass'd shall resound thee ever blest. For should Man finally be lost, should Man, Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest son, Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join'd With his own folly? That be from thee far, That far be from thee, Father, who art judge Of all things made, and judgest only right. Or shall the adversary thus obtain
His end, and frustrate thine? shall he fulfil His malice, and thy goodness bring to nought, Or proud return, though to his heavier doom, Yet with revenge accomplish'd, and to Hell Draw after him the whole race of mankind, By him corrupted? or wilt thou thyself Abolish thy creation, and unmake
For him, what for thy glory thou hast made? So should thy goodness and thy greatness both Be question'd and blasphem'd without defence."
To whom the great Creator thus replied. "O Son, in whom my soul hath chief delight, Son of my bosom, Son who art alone My word, my wisdom, and effectual might, All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all As my eternal purpose hath decreed:
Man shall not quite be lost, but sav'd who will; Yet not of will in him, but grace in me Freely vouchsaf'd; once more I will renew His lapsed powers, though forfeit, and enthrall'd By sin to foul exorbitant desires;
Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand On even ground against his mortal foe; By me upheld, that he may know how frail His fall'n condition is, and to me owe All his deliverance, and to none but me. Some I have chosen of peculiar grace, Elect above the rest; so is my will:
The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warn'd Their sinful state, and to appease betimes The incensed Deity, while offer'd grace Invites; for I will clear their senses dark, What may suffice, and soften stony hearts To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. To prayer, repentance, and obedience due, Though but endeavor'd with sincere intent, Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut. And I will place within them as a guide,
My umpire, Conscience; whom if they will hear, Light after light, well us'd they shall attain, And to the end, persisting, safe arrive. This my long sufferance, and my day of grace, They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste But hard be harden'd, blind be blinded more, That they may stumble on, and deeper fall; And none but such from mercy I exclude. But yet all is not done; Man disobeying, Disloyal, breaks his fealty, and sins Against the high supremacy of Heaven, Affecting godhead, and, so losing all, To expiate his treason hath nought left, But to destruction sacred and devote, He, with his whole posterity, must die, Die he, or justice must; uniess for him Some other able, and as willing, pay The rigid satisfaction, death for death. Say, heavenly powers, where shall we find such love?
Which of ye will be mortal, to redeem Man's mortal crime, and just the unjust to save? Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear?"
He ask'd, but all the heavenly quire stood mute, And silence was in Heaven: on Man's behalf Patron or intercessor none appear'd, Much less that durst upon his own head draw The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. And now without redemption all mankind Must have been lost, adjudg'd to Death and Hell By doom severe, had not the Son of God, In whom the fulness dwells of love divine, His dearest mediation thus renew'd.
"Father, thy word is past, Man shall find grace; And shall grace not find means, that finds her way, The speediest of thy winged messengers, To visit all thy creatures, and to all Comes unprevented, unimplor'd, unsought? Happy for Man, so coming; he her aid Can never seek, once dead in sins, and lost; Atonement for himself, or offering meet, Indebted and undone, hath none to bring: Behold me then; me for him, life for life I offer; on me let thine anger fall; Account me Man; I for his sake will leave Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee Freely put off, and for him lastly die
Well pleas'd; on me let Death wreak all his rage Under his gloomy power I shall not long Lie vanquish'd; thou hast given me to possess Life in myself for ever; by thee I live, Though now to Death I yield, and am his due All that of me can die: yet, that debt paid, Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul For ever with corruption there to dwell; But I shall rise victorious, and subdue My vanquisher, spoil'd of his vaunted spoil; Death his death's wound shall then receive, and
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