IX “Ye powers infernal, worthier far to sit About the sun, whence you your offspring take, With me that whilom, through the welkin flit, Down tumbled headlong to this empty lake; Our former glory still remember it, Our bold attempts and war we once did make Gainst him, that rules above the starry sphere, For which like traitors we lie damned here.
X “And now instead of clear and gladsome sky, Of Titan’s brightness, that so glorious is, In this deep darkness lo we helpless lie, Hopeless again to joy our former bliss, And more, which makes my griefs to multiply, That sinful creature man, elected is; And in our place the heavens possess he must, Vile man, begot of clay, and born of dust.
XI “Nor this sufficed, but that he also gave His only Son, his darling to be slain, To conquer so, hell, death, sin and the grave, And man condemned to restore again, He brake our prisons and would algates save The souls there here should dwell in woe and pain, And now in heaven with him they live always With endless glory crowned, and lasting praise.
XII “But why recount I thus our passed harms? Remembrance fresh makes weakened sorrows strong, Expulsed were we with injurious arms From those due honors, us of right belong. But let us leave to speak of these alarms, And bend our forces gainst our present wrong: Ah! see you not, how he attempted hath To bring all lands, all nations to his faith?
XIII “Then, let us careless spend the day and night, Without regard what haps, what comes or goes, Let Asia subject be to Christians’ might, A prey he Sion to her conquering foes, Let her adore again her Christ aright, Who her before all nations whilom chose; In brazen tables he his lore ywrit, And let all tongues and lands acknowledge it.
XIV “So shall our sacred altars all be his, Our holy idols tumbled in the mould, To him the wretched man that sinful is Shall pray, and offer incense, myrrh and gold; Our temples shall their costly deckings miss, With naked walls and pillars freezing cold, Tribute of souls shall end, and our estate, Or Pluto reign in kingdoms desolate.
XV “Oh, he not then the courage perished clean, That whilom dwelt within your haughty thought, When, armed with shining fire and weapons keen, Against the angels of proud Heaven we fought, I grant we fell on the Phlegrean green, Yet good our cause was, though our fortune naught; For chance assisteth oft the ignobler part, We lost the field, yet lost we not our heart.