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 Which oftimes may succeed, so as perhaps Shall grieve him, if I faile not, and disturb His inmost counsells from thir destind aim. But see the Angry Victor hath recall'd His ministers of vengeance and persuit Back to the gates of Heaven: The sulphurous haile Shot after us in storm, oreblow'n hath layd This fiery Surge, that from the precipice Of heaven receiv'd us falling, and the thunder Wingd with red lightning and impetuous rage Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now To bellow through the vast and boundlesse deep. Let us not slip th' occasion: whether scorn, Or satiate fury yeild it from our foe. Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wilde, The seat of desolation, voyd of light, Save what the glimmering of these livid flames Casts pale and dreadfull! Thither let us tend From off the tossing of these fiery waves, There rest, if any rest can harbour there, And reassembling our afflicted powers, Consult how wee may hence forth most offend Our enemy, our owne losse how repair, How overcome this dire calamity, What reinforcement wee may gaine from hope,