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.