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 And broken chariot wheeles. so thick bestrown Abject and lost lay these, covering the flood, Under amazment of thir hideous change. He calld so loud, that all the hollow deeps Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates, Warriers, the flower of Heav'n, once yours, now lost, If such astonishment as this can seise Eternal spirits: or have ye chos'n this place After the toyle of battell to repose Your wearied vertue, for the ease you find To slumber here, as in the vales of Heav'n? Or in this abject posture have yee sworne To adore the Conquerour? who now beholds Cherube and Seraph rowling in the flood With scatter'd arms and Ensigns, till anon His swift persuers from Heav'n gates discern Th' advantage, and descending tread us downe Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts Transfix us to the bottom of this gulfe. Awake, arise, or bee for ever fal'n. [They heard, and were abash'd, and up they sprung Upon the wing; as when men wont to watch On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread, Rouse and bestirr themselves ere well awake. Nor did they not perceive the evill plight