Apart, upon a throne of living fire
The Fiend was seated; in his eye there shone
The look that dared Omnipotence; the light
Of sateless vengeance, and sublime despair.--
He sat amid a burning world, and saw
Tormented myriads, whose blaspheming shrieks
Were mingled with the howl of hidden floods,
And Acherontine groans; of all the host,
The only dauntless he. As o'er the wild
He glanced, the pride of agony endured
Awoke, and writhed through all his giant frame,
That redden'd, and dilated, like a sun!
Till moved by some remember'd bliss, or joy
Of paradisal hours, or to supply
The cravings of infernal wrath,--he bade
The roar of Hell be hush'd,--and silence was!
He called the cursed,--and they flash'd from cave
And wild--from dungeon and from den they came,
And stood an unimaginable mass
Of spirits, agonized with burning pangs:
In silence stood they, while the Demon gazed
On all, and communed with departed Time,
From whence his vengeance such a harvest reap'd.