Boot VI. PARADISE LOST: 167 Againft unpain'd, impaffivel from which evil 455 Ruin mull needs enfue: for what avails Valor or ftrength, tho' matcblefs, quell'd with pain. Which all tubdues, and makes remits the hands Of mightieft ? Senfe of pleafure we may well Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, 460 But live content, which is the calmett life : But pain is perfect mifery, the won(' Of evils, and exceffive, overturns All patience. He who therefore can invent With what more forcible we may offend 465 Our yet-unwounded enemies, or arm Our (elves with like defence, to me deferves No leis than for deliverance what we owe. Whereto with look compos'd Satan reply'd. Not uninvented that, which thou aright 470 Believ'tt fo main to our tuccefs, I bring. Which of us who beholds the bright turface Of this ethereous mould, whereon we Eland ; This continent of fpacious heav'n, adorn'd With plant, fruit, flow'r ambrofial, gems, and gold; 475 Whole eye fo fhperficially furveys Theie things, as not to mind from whence they grow Deep under ground; materials dark and crude, Of fpiritous and fiery fpume, till touch'd With heav'ns ray, and temper'd they fhoot forth 480 So beauteous, op'ning to the ambient light ? Thefe in their dark nativity, the Deep Shall yield us, pregnant with infernal flame : Which into hollow engines, long and round, Thick-ramm'd, at th' other bore with touch of fire 485 Dilated, and infuriate, (ball fend forth From far, with thund'ring node, among our foes Such implements of mifchief, as hall ciafh To
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