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The latter; for what place can be for us Within heaven's bound, unless heaven's Lord supreme We overpower? Suppose he should relent, And publish grace to all, on promise made Of new subjection; with what eyes could we Stand in his presence humble, and receive Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing Forced hallelujahs, while he lordly sits Our envied Sovereign, and his altar breathes Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers, Our servile offerings? This must be our task In heaven, this our delight. How wearisome Eternity so spent, in worship paid To whom we hate! Let us not then pursue By force impossible, by leave obtained Unacceptable, though in heaven, our state Of splendid vassalage; but rather seek Our own good from ourselves, and from our own Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess, Free, and to none accountable, preferring Hard liberty before the easy yoke Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, We can create; and in what place soe'er Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain, Through labour and endurance. This deep world Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst Thick clouds and dark doth heaven's all-ruling Sire Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, And with the majesty of darkness round Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar, Mustering their rage, and heaven resembles hell? As he our darkness, cannot we his light Imitate, when we please? This desert soil