What sad surprises waken. Since Heaven's civil war Burst with divisive jar; And blindly hath been taken 630 The sword for mad attempt! Who 'mong celestial legions. Or wins or falls, exempt From grief, to view in the regions Of joy such misery 'Mong their fellows and their brothers: How some, overcome, would flee, While in exile wander others? O sons of God on high, Where errs your destiny? 640
Alas! where now those erring Spirits? What sorcery From their dear certainty Seduced them, vainly luring Them from their rank and state? Led them to wicked daring? Our bliss became too great, Too wanton for our bearing; E'en Heaven's altitude The Angels were outgrowing; 650 And then came Envy's brood. Seeds of Rebellion sowing In the peaceful Fatherland. Who cools War's lurid brand?
Doth not soon some power transcending War's fierce flames in bounds enchain, What will unconsumed remain? Treason's horrors are impending: Fires of discord shall profane Heaven and Earth and sea and plain. 660 Treason seeks her justifying In her triumph; then she would God's own mandates be defying: Treason knows nor God nor blood. 664
The whole of Heaven glows with the fierce blaze Of tumult and of treachery. I now Command thee, as ambassador from God, And His high Throne, to rise without delay And burn out with a glow of fire and zeal These dark, polluting stains in God's great name, And in the name of the unstained Heavens. Prince Lucifer defies with trump and drum.
The third part of the Heavens swore but now 10 The standard of that fickle Morning-star Their firm allegiance, perfumed his throne With incense, even as if he were a God; And with the blasphemous sounds of godless music Him praises sang. Now hitherward they come, Thronging with mighty hordes that threaten all, How terribly! to burst with violence The gate that leads unto the armoury. A crash of tempests fierce and wild doth roar On every side. The lightnings rage and rave. 20 The thunders, in their travail laboring, Shake even the ponderous pillars of these courts. We hear no Seraphim, nor sounds of praise. Each sits apart, enwrapped in voiceless gloom. Now hushed at once are all the Angel choirs, And then again they cry aloud in grief And in their pity o'er this blind revolt Of the blessed Angel world, and o'er the fall Of the Angelic race. Aye, 'tis full time That thou perform thy charge, that thou observe 30 The sacred oath that thou, as Field-marshal, Didst swear upon the lightning's lurid edge, By God's most holy name.