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Paradiſe loſt.
Book 3.

Of beaming ſunnie Raies, a golden tiar
Circl’d his Head, nor leſs his Locks behind
llluſtrious on his Shoulders fledge with wings
Lay waving round; on ſom great charge imploy’d
Hee ſeemd, or fixt in cogitation deep.
640Glad was the Spirit impure as now in hope
To find who might direct his wandring flight
To Paradiſe the happie feat of Man,
His journies end and our beginning woe.
But firſt he caſts to change his proper ſhape,
Which elſe might work him danger or delay:
And now a ſtripling Cherube he appeers,
Not of the prime, yet ſuch as in his face
Youth ſmil'd Celeſtial, and to every Limb
Sutable grace diffus’d, ſo well he feignd;
650Under a Coronet his flowing haire
In curles on either cheek plaid, wings he wore
Of many a colourd plume ſprinkl’d with Gold,
His habit fit for ſpeed ſuccinct, and held
Before his decent ſteps a Silver wand.
He drew not nigh unheard, the Angel bright,
Ere he drew nigh, his radiant viſage turnd,
Admoniſht by his eare, and ſrait was known
Th’ Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the ſeav’n
Who in Gods prefence, neereſt to his Throne
660Stand ready at command, and are his Eyes
That run through all the Heav’ns, or down to th’
Bear his ſwift errands over moiſt and dry, (Earth
O’re Sea and Land: him Satan thus accoſtes.
Uriel, for thou of thoſe ſeav’n Spirits that ſtand
In fight of God’s high Throne, gloriouſly bright,
The firſt art wont his great authentic will