Book 1.
Paradiſe loſt.
Equal'd in all thir glories, to inſhrineBelus or Serapis thir Gods, or ſeat 720Thir Kings, when Ægypt with Aſſyria ſtroveIn wealth and luxurie. Th' aſcending pileStood fixt her ſtately highth, and ſtrait the doresOp'ning thir brazen foulds diſcover wideWithin, her ample ſpaces, o're the ſmoothAnd level pavement: from the arched roofPendent by ſuttle Magic many a rowOf Starry Lamps and blazing Creſſets fedWith Naphtha and Aſphaltus yeilded lightAs from a sky. The haſty multitude 730Admiring enter'd, and the work ſome praiſeAnd ſome the Architect: his hand was knownIn Heav'n by many a Towred ſtructure high,Where Scepter'd Angels held their reſidence,And ſat as Princes, whom the ſupreme KingExalted to ſuch power, and gave to rule,Each in his Herarchie, the Orders bright.Nor was his name unheard or unador'dIn ancient Greece; and in Auſonian landMen call'd him Mulciber; and how he fell 740From Heav'n, they fabl'd, thrown by angry JoveSheer o're the Chryſtal Battlements: from MornTo Noon he fell, from Noon to dewy Eve,A Summers day; and with the ſetting SunDropt from the Zenith like a falling Star,On Lemnos th' Ægæan Ile: thus they relate,Erring; for he with this rebellious routFell long before; nor aught avail'd him nowTo have built in Heav'n high Towrs; nor did he ſcapeBy all his Engins, but was headlong ſent 750
With
