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 In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel; Yet to their Generalls voice they soon obai'd; Innumerable. As when the potent rod Of Amrams son in Egipts evill day Wav'd round the coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud Of Locusts, warping on the Eastern wind, That ore the realm of impious Pharoah hung Like night, and dark'n'd all the Land of Nile. So numberless were those bad Angells seen Hovering on wing under the cope of Hell T'wixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires; Till, as a signal given, th' uplifted speare Of thir great Sultan waving to direct Their course, in even ballance down they light On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain; A multitude, like which the populous North Pour'd never from her frozen loyns, to passe Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous sons Came like a deluge on the South, and spread Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands. Forthwith from every squadron and each band The heads and Leaders thither hast where stood Thir great Commander; Godlike shap's & formes Excelling human, Princely dignities,