Thrice he assayd, and thrice in spight of scorn,

Tears such as Angels weep, burst forth: at last [ 620 ]

Words interwove with sighs found out thir way.

O Myriads of immortal Spirits, O Powers

Matchless, but with th Almighty, and that strife

Was not inglorious, though th event was dire,

As this place testifies, and this dire change [ 625 ]

Hateful to utter: but what power of mind

Foreseeing or presaging, from the Depth

Of knowledge past or present, could have feard,

How such united force of Gods, how such

As stood like these, could ever know repulse? [ 630 ]

For who can yet beleeve, though after loss,

That all these puissant Legions, whose exile

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