When fiercer spirits, howled, he but complained (3)
Ere yet 'twas his to roam the pleasant earth,
His heaven-invented harp he still retained
Tho' tuned to bliss no more; and had its birth

Of him, beneath some black infernal clift
The first drear song of woe; and torment wrung
The spirit less severe where he might lift
His plaining voice--and frame the like as now he sung:


XXXII.

"Woe to thee, wild ambition, I employ
Despair's dull notes thy dread effects to tell,
Born in high-heaven, her peace thou could'st destroy,
And, but for thee, there had not been a hell.

"Thro' the celestial domes thy clarion pealed,--
Angels, entranced, beneath thy banners ranged,
And stright were fiends;--hurled from the shrinking field,
They waked in agony to wait the change.

"Darting thro' all her veins the subtle fire
The world's fair mistress first inhaled thy breath,
To lot of higher beings learned to aspire,--
Dared to attempt--and doomed the world to death.

"Thy thousand wild desires, that still torment
The fiercely struggling soul, where peace once dwelt,