Page:Paradise Lost (1667).djvu/107

Paradie Lot. Book 3.  Where no ill eems: Which now for once beguil'd 700 Uriel, though Regent of the Sun, and held The harpet ighted Spirit of all in Heav'n; Who to the fraudulent Impotor foule In his uprightnes anwer thus returnd. Faire Angel, thy defire which tends to know The works of God, thereby to glorifie The great Work-Maiter, leads to no exces That reaches blame, but rather merits praie The more it eems exces, that led thee hither From thy Empyreal Manion thus alone, 710 To witnes with thine eyes what ome perhaps Contented with report heare onely in heav'n: For wonderful indeed are all his works, Pleaant to know, and worthiet to be all Had in remembrance alwayes with delight; But what created mind can comprehend Thir number, or the widom infinite That brought them forth, but hid thir caues deep. I aw when at his Word the formles Mas, This worlds material mould, came to a heap: 720 Confuion heard his voice, and wilde uproar Stood rul'd, tood vat infinitude confin'd; Till at his econd bidding darknes fled, Light hon, and order from diorder prung: Swift to thir everal Quarters hated then The cumbrous Elements, Earth, Flood, Aire, Fire, And this Ethereal quintetence of Heav'n Flew upward, pirited with various forms, That rowld orbicular, and turnd to Starrs Numberles, as thou eet, and how they move; 730 Each had his place appointed, each his coure,