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Book 3.  See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, With Joy and Love triumphing, and fair Truth. Then thou thy regal Scepter halt lay by, 340 For regal Scepter then no more hall need, God hall be All in All. But all ye Gods, Adore him, who to compas all this dies, Adore the Son, and honour him as mee. No ooner had th' Almighty ceas't, but all The multitude of Angels with a hout Loud as from numbers without number, weet As from blet voices, uttering joy, Heav’n rung With Jubilee, and loud Hoanna's fill'd Th' eternal Regions: lowly reverent 350 Towards either Throne they bow, & to the ground With olemn adoration down they cat Thir Crowns inwove with Amarant and Gold, Immortal Amarant, a Flour which once In Paradie, fat by the Tree of Life Began to bloom, but oon for mans offence To Heav’n remov'd where firt it grew, there grows, And flours aloft hading the Fount of Life, And where the river of Blis through midt of Heavn Rowls o’re Eliian Flours her Amber tream; 360 With thee that never fade the Spirits Elect Bind thir replendent locks inwreath'd with beams, Now in looe Garlands thick thrown off, the bright Pavement that like a Sea of Japer hon Impurpl'd with Celetial Roes mil'd. Then Crown'd again thir gold'n Harps they took, Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by their ide Like Quivers hung, and with Præamble weet Of charming ymphonie they introduce