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In vision beatific. By him first Men also, and by his suggestion taught, Ransacked the centre, and with impious hands Rifled the bowels, of their mother earth For treasures, better hid. Soon had his crew Opened into the hill a spacious wound, And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire That riches grow in Hell,—that soil may best Deserve the precious bane. And here let those Who boast in mortal things, and wondering tell Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings, Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, And strength, and art, are easily outdone By spirits reprobate, and in an hour, What in an age they, with incessant toil And hands innumerable, scarce perform. Nigh on the plain, in many cells prepared, That underneath had veins of liquid fire Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude, With wondrous art, founded the massy ore, Severing each kind, and scummed the bullion dross. A third as soon had formed within the ground A various mould, and from the boiling cells, By strange conveyance, filled each hollow nook, As in an organ, from one blast of wind, To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes. Anon, out of the earth, a fabric huge Rose like an exhalation, with the sound Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, Built like a temple, where pilasters round Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid With golden architrave. Nor did there want Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven. The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, Nor great Alcairo, such magnificence

¹ Alcairo.—Memphis.

Equalled in all their glories, to enshrine Belus or Serapis, their gods, or seat Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove In wealth and luxury. The ascending pile Soon fixed her stately height; and straight the doors, Opening their brazen folds, discover, wide Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth And level pavement. From the arched roof, Pendent by subtle magic, many a row Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed With naphtha and asphultus, yielded light As from a sky. The hasty multitude Admiring entered; and the work some praise, And some the architect. His hand was known In heaven by many a towered structure high, Where sceptred angels held their residence, And sat as princes, whom the supreme King Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright. Nor was his name unheard or unadored In ancient Greece; and in the Ausonian land Men called him Mulciber; and how he fell From heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements: from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropped from the zenith, like a falling star, On Lemnos, Ægean isle. Thus they relate, Erring; for he with this rebellious rout Fell long before; nor aught availed him now To have built in heaven high towers, nor did he 'scape By all his engines, but was headlong sent With his industrious crew to build in Hell. Meanwhile the winged heralds, by command

PARADISE LOST.

\* Erring.—Milton thus links the tradition concerning Vulcan in the Greek mythology with that of a workman of