His eye survey'd the dark idolatries
Of alienated Judah. Next came one
Who mourn'd in earnest, when the captive ark Maim'd his brute image, head and hands lopt off In his own temple, on the grunsel edge,
Where he fell flat, and sham'd his worshippers: Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man And downward fish: yet had his temple high Rear'd in Azotus, dreaded through the coast Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon, And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. Him follow'd Rimmon, whose delightful seat Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. He also against the house of God was bold : A leper once he lost, and gain'd a king; Ahaz, his sottish conquerour, whom he drew God's altar to disparage, and displace, For one of Syrian mould, whereon to burn His odious offerings, and adore the gods Whom he had vanquish'd. After these appear'd A crew, who, under names of old renown, Osiris, Isis, Orus, and their train,
With monstrous shapes and sorceries abus'd Fanatick Egypt and her priests, to seek
Their wandering gods disguis'd in brutish forms Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape The infection, when their borrow'd gold compos'd The calf in Oreb; and the rebel king
Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan,
Likening his Maker to the grazed ox; Jehovah, who in one night, when he pass'd From Egypt marching, equall'd with one stroke Both her first-born and all her bleating gods. Belial came last, than whom a Spirit more lewd Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love Vice for itself: to him no temple stood Or altar smok'd; yet who more oft than he In temples and at altars, when the priest Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who fill'd With lust and violence the house of God? In courts and palaces he also reigns, And in luxurious cities, where the noise Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, And injury, and outrage: And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night In Gibeah, when the hospitable door Expos'd a matron, to avoid worse rape. These were the prime in order and in might ; The rest were long to tell, though far renown'd, The Ionian gods, of Javan's issue; held Gods, yet confess'd later that Heaven and Earth, Their boasted parents: Titan, Heaven's first-born, With his enormous brood, and birthright seiz'd By younger Saturn; he from mightier Jove, His own and Rhea's son like measure found;
So Jove usurping reign'd: These first in Crete And Ida known, thence on the snowy top Of cold Olympus, rul'd the middle air,
Their highest Heaven; or on the Delphian cliff, Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds Of Dorick land; or who with Saturn old Fled over Adria to the Hesperian fields, And o'er the Celtick roam'd the utmost isles.
All these and more came flocking; but with looks Down cast and damp; yet such wherein appear`d Obscure some glimpse of joy, to have found their Chief Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost In loss itself; which on his countenance cast Like doubtful hue: but he, his wonted pride Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore Semblance of worth, not substance, gently rais'd Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears. Then straight commands, that at the warlike sound Of trumpets loud and clarions be uprear'd His mighty standard: that proud honour claim'd Azazel as his right, a Cherub tall;
Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl'd The imperial ensign; which, full high advanc'd, Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind, With gems and golden lustre rich imblaz’d, Seraphick arms and trophies; all the while Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds: At which the universal host up-sent
A shout, that tore Hell's concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and cld Night. All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand banners rise into the air, With orient colours waving: with them rose A forest huge of spears; and thronging helms Appear'd, and serried shields in thick array, Of depth immeasurable: Anon they move In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood Of flutes and soft recorders; such as rais'd To highth of noblest temper heroes old Arming to battle; and instead of rage Deliberate valour breath'd, firm and unmov'd With dread of death to flight or foul retreat; Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage, With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain, From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, Breathing united force, with fixed thought, Mov'd on in silence to soft pipes, that charm'd Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil: and now Advanc'd in view they stand; a horrid front Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise Of warriours old with order'd spear and shield; Awaiting what command their mighty Chief Had to impose: He through the armed files Darts his experienc'd eye, and soon traverse The whole battalion views; their order due; Their visages and stature as of gods;
Their number last he sums. And now his heart
Distends with pride, and, hardening in his strength Glories: for never, since created man,
Met such imbodied force, as nam'd with these, Could merit more than that small infantry Warr'd on by cranes; though all the giant brood Of Phlegra with the heroick race were join'd, That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side Mix'd with auxiliar gods; and what resounds In fable or romance of Uther's son, Begirt with British and Armorick knights; And all who since, baptiz'd or infidel, Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, Or whom Biserta sent from Africk shore When Charlemain with all his peerage fell By Fontarabbia. Thus far these beyond Compare of mortal prowess, yet observ'd Their dread Commander: He, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tower: his form had not yet lost All her original brightness; nor appear'd Less than Arch-Angel ruin'd, and the excess Of glory obscur'd: as when the sun, new risen, Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon, In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd so, yet shone Above them all the Arch-Angel: but his face
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