The end was pointed with a double sting, Which with such dreaded might she wont to fling, That nought could help the wound, but blood of heav'nly Of that first woman, her the Dragon got, (The foulest bastard of so fair a mother) Whom when she saw so fill'd with monst'rous spot, So some parts of her dam, more of her sire remain. Her viperous locks hung loose about her ears; In thousand knots, and wreaths infolded round; And darting far away would sure and deadly wound. Yet fair and lovely seems to fools' dim eyes; But Hell more lovely, Pluto's self more fair The second in this rank was black Despair, Bred in the dark womb of eternal night : His looks fast nail'd to Sin; long sooty hair Fill'd up his lank cheeks with wild staring fright. His leaden eyes, retir'd into his head; Light, Heav'n, and Earth, himself, and all things fled : A breathing corpse he seem'd, wrapt up in living lead. XXXIII, His body all was fram'd of earthly paste, And heavy mould; yet Earth could not content him : Instead of feathers on his dangling crest A luckless raven spread her blackest wings: And to her croaking throat gave never rest, But deathful verses and sad dirges sings: His hellish arms were all with fiends embost, Who damned souls with endless torments roast, And thousand ways devise to vex the tortur'd ghost. XXXV. Two weapons, sharp as death he ever bore, Strict Judgment, which from far he deadly darts; Of snaky whips the damn'd souls tortureth : XXXVI. The last two brethren were far different, Only in common name of death agreeing; The first arm'd with a scythe still mowing went; Yet whom, and when he murder'd, never seeing; Born deaf, and blind :-nothing might stop his way : No pray'rs, no vows his keenest scythe could stay, Nor beauty's self, his spite, nor virtue's self allay. XXXVII. 1 No state, no age, no sex may hope to move him ; All are his slaves in cloth of flesh array'd: The bride he snatches from the bridegroom's arms, A dead man's skull supplied his helmet's place, A bone his club, his armour sheets of lead : Some more, some less, fear his affrighting face; But most, who sleep in downy pleasure's bed : But who in life have daily learn'd to die, And dead to this, live to a life more high, Sweetly in death they sleep, and slumb'ring quiet lie. XXXIX. The second far more foul in every part, Burnt with blue fire, and bubbling sulphur streams Most strange it seems, that burning thus for ever, XL. Soon as these hellish monsters came in sight, The Sun his eye in jetty vapours drown'd; Scar'd at such hell-hounds' view, Heaven's mazed light A a Bids dogs with howls give warning: at which sound The fearful air starts, seas break their bound, And frighted fled away; no sands might them impound. XLI. The palsied troop like asps first shaken fare, Till now their heart congeal'd in icy blood, Candied the ghastly face :-locks stand and stare : Thus charm'd, in ranks of stone they marshall'd stood: Their useless swords fell idly on the plain, And now the triumph sounds in lofty strain; As when proud Phineus in his brother's feast The vulgar rude stood all in marble chang'd, Were now more quiet guests, from former rage estrang'd. The fair Eclecta, who with grief had stood, Light grief floats on the tongue; but heavy smart XLIV. What Doedal art such griefs can truly shew, Broke heart, deep sighs, loud sobs, and burning prayers, Baptising ev'ry limb in weeping dew? Whose swollen eyes, redd'ning with briny tears, Chrystalline rocks; coral, the lid appears; Compass'd about with tides of grief and fears: [tears. Where grief stores fear with sighs, and fear stores grief with XLV. At length sad sorrow, mounted on the wings Of loud breath'd sighs, his leaden weight appears; Follow'd with deadly groans, usher'd by tears : Were upward bent upon the morning skies, Long while the silent passion, wanting vent, Made flowing tears her words, and eyes her tongue; Till faith, experience, hope, assistance lent To shut both flood-gates up with patience strong: The streams well ebb'd, new hopes some comforts borrow From firmest truth; then glimps'd the hopeful morrow : So spring some dawns of joy, so sets the night of sorrow. XLVII. Ah dearest Lord! my heart's sole Sovereign, Who sitt' st exalted on thy burning throne; Hear from thy Heav'ns, where thou dost safely reign, To thee, dear Lord! I lift this wat❜ry eye, This eye which thou so oft in love hast prais'd; This eye with which thou wounded oft wouldst die To thee, dear Lord! these suppliant hands are rais'd : |