Stand still in bright array ye Saints, here standYe Angels arm'd, this day from Battel rest;Faithful hath been your Warfare, and of GodAccepted, fearless in his righteous Cause,And as ye have receivd, so have ye donInvincibly; but of this cursed crewThe punishment to other hand belongs,Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints;Number to this dayes work is not ordain'd
[810]
Nor multitude, stand onely and beholdGods indignation on these Godless pourdBy mee; not you but mee they have despis'd,Yet envied; against mee is all thir rage,Because the Father, t' whom in Heav'n supreamKingdom and Power and Glorie appertains,Hath honourd me according to his will.Therefore to mee thir doom he hath assig'n'd;That they may have thir wish, to trie with meeIn Battel which the stronger proves, they all,
[820]
Or I alone against them, since by strengthThey measure all, of other excellenceNot emulous, nor care who them excells;Nor other strife with them do I voutsafe.So spake the Son, and into terrour chang'dHis count'nance too severe to be beheldAnd full of wrauth bent on his Enemies.At once the Four spred out thir Starrie wingsWith dreadful shade contiguous, and the OrbesOf his fierce Chariot rowld, as with the sound
[830]
Of torrent Floods, or of a numerous Host.Hee on his impious Foes right onward drove,Gloomie as Night; under his burning WheelesThe stedfast Empyrean shook throughout,All but the Throne it self of God. Full soonAmong them he arriv'd; in his right handGrasping ten thousand Thunders, which he sentBefore him, such as in thir Soules infix'dPlagues; they astonisht all resistance lost,All courage; down thir idle weapons drop'd;
[840]
O're Shields and Helmes, and helmed heads he rodeOf Thrones and mighty Seraphim prostrate,That wish'd the Mountains now might be againThrown on them as a shelter from his ire.Nor less on either side tempestuous fellHis arrows, from the fourfold-visag'd Foure,Distinct with eyes, and from the living Wheels,Distinct alike with multitude of eyes,One Spirit in them rul'd, and every eyeGlar'd lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire
[850]
Among th' accurst, that witherd all thir strength,And of thir wonted vigour left them draind,Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fall'n.Yet half his strength he put not forth, but check'dHis Thunder in mid Volie, for he meantNot to destroy, but root them out of Heav'n:The overthrown he rais'd, and as a HeardOf Goats or timerous flock together throngdDrove them before him Thunder-struck, pursu'dWith terrors and with furies to the bounds
[860]
And Chrystall wall of Heav'n, which op'ning wide,Rowld inward, and a spacious Gap disclos'dInto the wastful Deep; the monstrous sightStrook them with horror backward, but far worseUrg'd them behind; headlong themselvs they threwDown from the verge of Heav'n, Eternal wrauthBurnt after them to the bottomless pit.