It chanced, that day, lured by the verdure, came
Zophiel, now minister of ill; but ere
He sinned, a heavenly angel. The faint flame
Of dying embers, on an altar, where
Raguel, fair Egla's sire, in secret vowed
And sacrificed to the sole living God,
Where friendly shades the sacred rites enshround;--(2)
The fiend beheld and knew; his soul was awed,
And he bethought him of the forfeit joys
Once his in Heaven;--deep in a darkling grot
He sat him down;--the melancholy noise
Of leaf and creeping vine accordant with his thought.