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Diſlodging from a Region scarce of prey
To gorge the fleſh of Lambs or yeanling Kids
On Hills where Flocks are fed, flies toward the Springs
Of Ganges or Hydaſpes, Indian streams;
But in his way lights on the barren plaines
Of Sericana, where Chineſes drive
With Sails and Wind their canie Waggons light:
440So on this windie Sea of Land, the Fiend
Walk'd up and down alone bent on his prey,
Alone, for other Creature in this place
Living or lifeleſs to be found was none,
None yet, but ſtore hereafter from the earth
Up hither like Aereal vapours flew
Of all things tranſitorie and vain, when Sin
With vanity had filld the works of men:
Both all things vain, and all who in vain things
Built thir fond hopes of Glorie or laſting fame,
450Or happineſs in this or th' other life;
All who have thir reward on Earth, the fruits
Of painful Superſtition and blind Zeal,
Naught ſeeking but the praiſe of men, here find
Fit retribution, emptie as thir deeds;
All th' unaccompliſht works of Natures hand,
Abortive, monſtrous, or unkindly mixt,
Diſſolved on earth, fleet hither, and in vain,
Till final diſſolution, wander here,
Not in the neighbouring Moon, as ſome have dreamed;
460Thoſe argent Fields more likely habitants,
Tranſlated Saints, or middle Spirits hold
Betwixt th' Angelical and Human kinde:
Hither of ill-joynd Sons and Daughters born
Firſt from the ancient World thoſe Giants came