12

类别:文学名著 作者:约翰·弥尔顿 本章:12

    Forto they flew,

    None arguing stood, innumerable hands

    ere ready, in a moment up turnd

    ide tial soile, and sah [ 510 ]

    ture in thir crude

    Conception; Sulprous Foame

    ttle Art,

    Concocted and adusted they reducd

    to blackest grain, and into store conveyd: [ 515 ]

    Part h

    Entrails unlike) of Mineral and Stone,

    o found thir Balls

    Of missive ruin; part incentive reed

    Provide, pernicious ouco fire. [ 520 ]

    So all ere day-spring, under conscious Night

    Secret t,

    it circumspection unespid.

    Now w in heavn appeerd

    Up rose tor Angels, and to Arms [ 525 ]

    tin trumpet Sung: in Arms tood

    Of Golden Panoplie, refulgent ,

    Soon banded; othe dawning hills

    Lookd round, and Scouts eac light-armed scoure,

    Eacer, to descrie tant foe, [ 530 ]

    ,

    In motion or in alt:

    Under spred Ensignes moving nigh, in slow

    But firm Battalion; back  Sail

    Zopest wing, [ 535 ]

    Came flying, and in mid Aire aloud thus crid.

    Arme, arriours, Arme for fig hand,

    ,

    t ; so thick a Cloud

    tld in his face I see [ 540 ]

    Sad resolution and secure: let each

    ine coat gird well, and each

    Fit well  his orbed Shield,

    Born eevn or his day will pour down,

    If I conjecture aught, no drizling showr, [ 545 ]

    But ratling storm of Arroh fire.


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