Page:Paradise lost by Milton, John.djvu/16

10 Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hughest that swim the ocean-stream— Him, haply slumbering on the Norway-foam, The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, With fixed anchor in his scaly rind, Moors by his side under the lee, while night Invests the sea, and wished morn delays— So stretched out huge in length the Arch-Fiend lay, Chained on the burning lake, nor even thence Had risen or heaved his head, but that the will And high permission of all-ruling Heaven Left him at large to his own dark designs, That with reiterated crimes he might Heap on himself damnation, while he sought Evil to others, and enraged might see How all his malice served but to bring forth Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shewn On Man by him seduced, but on himself Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance poured.
 * Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool

His mighty stature. On each hand the flames Driven backward slope their pointing spires, and, rolled In billows, leave in the midst a horrid vale. Then with expanded wings he steers his flight