Paradise Lost.
Manuscript of Book I, in the hand of an amanuensis, ca. 1665.
Purchased by Pierpont Morgan, 1904
Then strait commands that at the warlike sound
Of trumpets loud and clarions be uprear'd
His mighty standard; that proud honour claim'd
Azazel as his right, a Cherube tall:
Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl'd
Th' imperial ensign, which full high advanc't
Shon like a Meteor streaming to the wind
With gemms & golden lustre rich emblaz'd,
Seraphic arms and trophies: all the while
Sonorous mettle blowing Martiall sounds.
At which the universall host upsent
A shout that tore hells concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.
All in a moment through the gloom were seen
Ten thousand banners rise into the air
With orient colours waving: with them rose
A forrest huge of speares: and thronging helms
Appear'd, and serried shields in thick array
Of depth immeasurable: anon they move
In perfet Phalanx to the Dorian mood
Of flutes and soft recorders; such as rais'd
To highth of noblest temper Hero's old
Arming to battell, and in stead of rage
Deliberate valour breath'd, firm and unmov'd
Paradise Lost. Manuscript of Book I, in the hand of an amanuensis, ca. 1665.