Page:Paradise Lost (1667).djvu/80

Book 2.  Confus'dly, and which thus mut ever fight, Unles th’ Almighty Maker them ordain His dark materials to create more Worlds, Into this wilde Abys the warie fiend Stood on the brink of Hell and look'd a while, Pondering his Voyage; for no narrow frith 920 He had to cros. Nor was his eare les peal'd With noies loud and ruinous (to compare Great things with mall) then when Bellona torms, With all her battering Engines bent to rae Some Capital City, or less then if this frame Of Heav’n were falling, and thee Elements In mutinie had from her Axle torn The teadfat Earth. At lat his Sail-broad Vannes He preads for flight, and in the urging moak Uplifted purns the ground, thence many a League 930 As in a cloudy Chair acending rides Audacious, but that eat oon failing, meets A vat vacuitie: all unawares Fluttring his pennons vain plumb down he drops Ten thouand fadom deep, and to this hour Down had been falling, had not by ill chance The trong rebuff of om tumultuous cloud Intinct with Fire and Nitre hurried him As many miles aloft: that furie tay'd, Quencht in a Boggie Syrtis, neither Sea, 940 Nor good dry Land: nigh founderd on he fares, Treading the crude conitence, half on foot, Half flying; behoves him now both Oare and Saile. As when a Gryfon through the Wildernes With winged coure ore Hill or moarie Dale, Purues the Arimaspian, who by telth