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СКАЧАТЬ to impose. He through the armed files

      Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse

      The whole battalion views—their order due,

      Their visages and stature as of gods;

      Their number last he sums. And now his heart

      Distends with pride, and, hardening in his strength,

      Glories: for never, since created Man,

      Met such embodied force as, named with these,

      Could merit more than that small infantry

      Warred on by cranes—though all the giant brood

      Of Phlegra with th’ heroic race were joined

      That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side

      Mixed with auxiliar gods; and what resounds

      In fable or romance of Uther’s son,

      Begirt with British and Armoric knights;

      And all who since, baptized 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 observed

      Their dread Commander. He, above the rest

      In shape and gesture proudly eminent,

      Stood like a tower. His form had yet not lost

      All her original brightness, nor appeared

      Less than Archangel ruined, and th’ excess

      Of glory obscured: as when the sun new-risen

      Looks through the horizontal misty air

      Shorn of his beams, or, from behind the moon,

      In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds

      On half the nations, and with fear of change

      Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone

      Above them all th’ Archangel: but his face

      Deep scars of thunder had intrenched, and care

      Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows

      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), condemned

      For ever now to have their lot in pain—

      Millions of Spirits for his fault amerced

      Of Heaven, and from eternal splendours flung

      For his revolt—yet faithful how they stood,

      Their glory withered; as, when heaven’s fire

      Hath scathed the forest oaks or mountain pines,

      With singed top their stately growth, though bare,

      Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepared

      To speak; whereat their doubled ranks they bend

      From wing to wing, and half enclose him round

      With all his peers: attention held them mute.

      Thrice he assayed, 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,

      Forseeing or presaging, from the depth

      Of knowledge past or present, could have feared

      How such united force of gods, how such

      As stood like these, could ever know repulse?

      For who can yet believe, though after loss,

      That all these puissant legions, whose exile

      Hath emptied Heaven, shall fail to re-ascend,

      Self-raised, and repossess their native seat?

      For me, be witness all the host of Heaven,

      If counsels different, or danger shunned

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

      Monarch in Heaven till then as one secure

      Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute,

      Consent or custom, and his regal state

      Put forth at full, but still his strength concealed—

      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 war provoked: 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 Heaven that he ere long

      Intended to create, and therein plant

      A generation whom his choice regard

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