Serene of night. That moment, where, beneath,

The dread, transfigured peak leaned from the verge Of the ingulfed, unfathomable void,

A shadow fell along the airy steep,

And vanished, like a just appearing cloud
Below the horizon driven by the wind—
A shadow, but with lineaments and shape
Like human, that grew pale almost to air,
And cast a look behind, that had made dumb
Deep groaning pain, or hollow-shrieked despair;
For Judas knew his Lord, and stretched his arms,
With that last look, reverse to his descent,

And, headlong, disappeared in the deep gulf.

BOOK V.

WITHDRAWN from that dire field, and far remote
Each from the other in the unbounded waste,
The hostile powers took counsel for their state
What farther, on each part, might be devised
To end the war, and in their vexed domain
Fix the disputed sceptre. And not long
The place to which the angelic tribes retired
To build again the wreck of war, remained
Without intelligent sound amidst the roar
Of elements dismayed, and guttural dash
And low-lisped threatenings of the sinking storm,
First, Baal lingered up, and cast around
A sullen eye, as if to seek a foe

Or challenge accusation; but none stirred.
Some sat with head bowed low, some lay supine
At monstrous length, and others, half reclined,

Looked up into the darkness with fixed eye.

But by their apathy not less enraged,

His fury dashed itself against despair,

In words like these: "Since none who shared with me

This late prodigious fortune, would impeach

My conduct of the war, or cares to hint

It otherwise had fallen had Satan led,

There haply needs not to enforce my words
The rebel-dared decadence of this hand.

Yet why of words speak I? at all why speak!
'Tis not the skill of words can cure these wounds,

Or heal the breach in our strong title up:

It lies not in the flowery epilogue

To an act barren of glory, or the pomp
Of eloquent declaim 'gainst earless fate,

To excuse dishonor, thus dishonored more,
And doubly shamed defeat, from foes so weak.
But this we all have proved long since, that fate,
Who to the strong gave courage, on the weak
Bestowed more cunning, and, for want of power
Found in themselves, the mastery o'er powers
Extrinsic yet their artifice once known,

What more can it avail? But strength bestowed