Hail! to the hero, hail! Who the wicked did assail; And in the fight, o'er his might and his standard. Triumphant did prevail. Who strove for God's own crown, 360 From his high and splendid throne, Into night, with his might, hath been driven. How dazzling God's renown! Though flames the tumult fell, The valiant Michael With his hand the fierce brand can extinguish: All mutiny shall quell. God's banner he doth rear: Come, wreathe his brow austere. Now, in peace, shall increase Heaven's Palace: 370 No discord now we hear. Then to the Godhead raise. In His deathless courts, your praise. Glory bring to the King of all Kingdoms: His deeds inspire our lays.

Praise be to God! The state of things above Has changed. Our Grand Foe has met his defeat; And in our hands he leaves his standard, helm, And morning-star, and shield and banners bold. Which spoil, gained in pursuit, even now doth hang, 380 'Mid joys triumphant, honors, songs of praise, And sounds of trump, on Heaven's axis bright, The mirror clear of all rebelliousness, Of all ambition that would rear its crest 'Gainst God, the stem immovable--grand fount, Prime source, and Father of all things that are, Which from His hand their nature did receive, And various attributes. No more shall we Behold the glow of Majesty Supreme Dimmed by the damp of base ingratitude. 390 There, deep beneath our sight and these high thrones, They wander through the air and restlessly Move to and fro, all blind and overcast With shrouding clouds, and horribly deformed. Thus is his fate, who would assail God's Throne.

Vondel's Lucifer — Part 151

Thus is his fate, who would assail God's Throne. Thus is his fate, who would, through envy, man, In God's own image made, deprive of light.

Vondel's Lucifer — Part 151

Alas! alas! alas! how things have changed! Why triumph here? Our triumph is in vain: 400 Ah! vain display, these plundered flags and arms!

Vondel's Lucifer — Part 151

Oh! Adam's fallen: The father and the stem of all mankind, Most pitiful and sad! brought to his fall So soon. He is undone.

That bursts even like A sudden thunder-peal upon our ears. Although I shudder, yet I long to hear This overthrow described. Doth then the Chief Accursed, also on Earth his warfare wage?

The battle o'er, he called his scattered host 410 Unto his side, though first his chieftains bold, Who to each other turned abhorring gaze; And then, to shun the swift, all-searching rays Of the all-seeing Eye, he veiled them round With gloomy mists, that formed a hollow cloud, A dark, obscure, and gruesome lair of fog, Where shone no light, where gleamed no glow of fire Save what did shine from their own blazing eyes. And in that dim, infernal consistory, High-seated 'mid his Councillors of State, 420 With bitter rage 'gainst God he thus began: "Ye Powers, who for our righteous cause have borne, With such fierce pride, this injury, 'tis time To be revengèd for our wrongs: with hate Irreconcilable and furious craft The Heavens to persecute and circumvent In their own chosen image, man, and him To smother at his birth, in his ascent, Ere that his sinews gain their promised strength And ere he multiply. 'Tis my design, 430 Both Adam and his seed now to corrupt. I know how, through transgression of the law Him first enjoined, to stain him with a blot Indelible; so that he with his seed, In soul and body poisoned, never shall Usurp the throne from which ourselves were thrust: Though it may be that some shall yet ascend On high, a number small and slight; and these Alone through thousand deaths and suffering And labor shall attain the state and crown 440 To us denied. Lo! miseries forthwith Shall follow aft in Adam's wake, and spread, From age to age, throughout the whole wide world. Even Nature shall, attainted by this blow, Almost decay, and wish again to turn To chaos and its primal nothingness. I see mankind, in God's own image made, From God's similitude debased, estranged, And tarnished, even in will and memory And understanding, while the holy light 450 Within created is obscured and dimmed: Yea, all yet in their mother's anxious womb, That wait with sorrow for their natal hour, I now, forsooth, behold a helpless prey To Death's relentless jaws. I shall exalt My tyranny with e'er-increasing pride, While you, my sons, I then shall see adored As Deities, on altars and in fanes Innumerable that tower to Heaven, where burns The sacrificial victim, 'mid the smoke 460 Of censers and the dazzling sheen of gold, In praise most reverential. I see hosts Of men, whose multitudes are even beyond The power of tongue to name--yea, all that spring From Adam's loins--for all eternity Accursed by their deeds abominable, Done in defiance of God's name. So dear To Him the cost of triumph o'er my crown."