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Milton John
«Paradise Lost»

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serve to better us, and worse our foes, Or equal what between us made the odds, In Nature none: if other hidden cause Left them Superiour, while we can preserve Unhurt our mindes, and understanding sound, Due search and consultation will disclose. He sat; and in th' assembly next upstood NISROC, of Principalities the prime; As one he stood escap't from cruel fight, Sore toild, his riv'n Armes to havoc hewn, And cloudie in aspect thus answering spake. Deliverer from new Lords, leader to free Enjoyment of our right as Gods; yet hard For Gods, and too unequal work we find Against unequal armes to fight in paine, Against unpaind, impassive; from which evil Ruin must needs ensue; for what availes Valour or strength, though matchless, quelld with pain Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands Of Mightiest. Sense of pleasure we may well Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, But live content, which is the calmest life: But pain is perfet miserie, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturnes All patience. He who therefore can invent With what more forcible we may offend Our yet unwounded Enemies, or arme Our selves with like defence, to mee deserves No less then for deliverance what we owe. Whereto with look compos'd SATAN repli'd. Not uninvented that, which thou aright Beleivst so main to our success, I bring; Which of us who beholds the bright surface Of this Ethereous mould whereon we stand, This continent of spacious Heav'n, adornd With Plant, Fruit, Flour Ambrosial, Gemms & Gold, Whose Eye so superficially surveyes These things, as not to mind from whence they grow Deep under ground, materials dark and crude, Of spiritous and fierie spume, till toucht With Heav'ns ray, and temperd they shoot forth So beauteous, op'ning to the
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