smooths her charming tones that God’s own ear Listens delighted. Evening now approached (For we have also our evening and our morn, We ours for change delectable, not need), Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn Desirous: all in circles as they stood, Tables are set, and on a sudden piled With Angels’ food, and rubied nectar flows In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heaven. On flowers reposed, and with fresh flowerets crowned, They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy, secure Of surfeit where full measure only bounds Excess, before the all-bounteous King, who showered With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. Now when ambrosial night, with clouds exhaled From that high mount of God whence light and shade Spring both, the face of brightest Heaven had changed To grateful twilight (for night comes not there In darker veil), and roseate dews disposed All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest, Wide over all the plain, and wider far Than all this globous Earth in plain outspread (Such are the courts of God), the angelic throng, Dispersed in bands and files, their camp extend By living streams among the trees of life— Pavilions numberless and sudden reared, Celestial tabernacles, where they slept Fanned with cool winds; save those who, in their course, Melodious hymns about the sovereign throne Alternate all night long. But not so waked Satan—so call him now; his former name Is heard no more in Heaven. He, of the first, If not the first Archangel, great in power, In favour, and pre-eminence, yet fraught With envy against the Son of God, that day Honoured by his great Father, and proclaimed Messiah, King anointed, could not bear Through pride that sight, and thought himself impaired. Deep malice thence conceiving and disdain, Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolved With all his legions to dislodge, and leave Unworshipped, unobeyed, the throne supreme, Contemptuous; and, his next subordinate Awakening, thus to him in secret spake:
“ ‘Sleep’st thou, companion dear? what sleep can close Thy eyelids? and rememberest what decree, Of yesterday, so late hath passed the lips Of