Up rose the victor-Angels, and to arms

The matin trumpet sung: In arms they stood

Of golden panoply, refulgent host,

Soon banded; others from the dawning hills

Look round, and scouts each coast light-armed scour,

Each quarter to descry the distant foe,

Where lodged, or whither fled, or if for fight,

In motion or in halt: Him soon they met

Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow

But firm battalion; back with speediest sail

Zophiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing,

Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried.

‘Arm, Warriors, arm for fight; the foe at hand,

Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit

This day; fear not his flight; so thick a cloud

He comes, and settled in his face I see

Sad resolution, and secure: Let each

His adamantine coat gird well, and each

Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield,

Borne even or high; for this day will pour down,

If I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower,

But rattling storm of arrows barbed with fire.’

So warned he them, aware themselves, and soon

In order, quit of all impediment;

Instant without disturb they took alarm,

And onward moved embattled: When behold!

Not distant far with heavy pace the foe

Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube

Training his devilish enginery, impaled

On every side with shadowing squadrons deep,

To hide the fraud. At interview both stood

Awhile; but suddenly at head appeared

Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud.

‘Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold;

That all may see who hate us, how we seek

Peace and composure, and with open breast

Stand ready to receive them, if they like

Our overture; and turn not back perverse:

But that I doubt; however witness, Heaven!

Heaven, witness thou anon! while we discharge

Freely our part: ye, who appointed stand

Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch

What we propound, and loud that all may hear!’

So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce

Had ended; when to right and left the front

Divided, and to either flank retired:

Which to our eyes discovered, new and strange,

A triple mounted row of pillars laid

On wheels (for like to pillars most they seemed,

Or hollowed bodies made of oak or fir,

With branches lopt, in wood or mountain felled,)

Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths

With hideous orifice gaped on us wide,

Portending hollow truce: At each behind

A Seraph stood, and in his hand a reed

Stood waving tipt with fire; while we, suspense,

Collected stood within our thoughts amused,

Not long; for sudden all at once their reeds

Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied

With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame,

But soon obscured with smoke, all Heaven appeared,

From those deep-throated engines belched, whose roar

Embowelled with outrageous noise the air,

And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul

Their devilish glut, chained thunderbolts and hail

Of iron globes; which, on the victor host