Paradiſe loſt.
Book 1.
Rifl'd the bowels of thir mother Earth
For Treaſures better hid. Soon had his crew
Op'nd into the Hill a ſpacious wound
And dig'd out ribs of Gold. Let none admire 690
That riches grow in Hell; that ſoyle may beſt
Deſerve the pretious bane. And here let thoſe
Who boaſt in mortal things, and wondring tell
Of Babel, and the works of Memphian Kings,
Learn how their greateſt Monuments of Fame,
And Strength and Art, are eaſily outdone
By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour
What in an age they with inceſſant toyle
And hands innumerable ſcarce perform.
Nigh on the Plain in many cells prepar'd, 700
That underneath had veins of liquid fire
Sluc'd from the Lake, a ſecond multitude
With wondrous Art founded the maſſie Ore,
Severing each kinde, and ſcum'd the Bullion droſs:
A third as ſoon had form'd within the ground
A various mould, and from the boyling cells
By ſtrange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook,
As in an Organ from one blaſt of wind
To many a row of Pipes the ſound-board breaths.
A non out of the earth a Fabrick huge 710
Roſe like an Exhalation, with the ſound
Of Dulcet Symphonies and voices ſweet,
Built like a Temple, where Pilaſters round
Were ſet, and Doric pillars overlaid
With Golden Architrave; nor did there want
Cornice or Freeze, with boſſy Sculptures grav'n,
The Roof was fretted Gold. Not Babilon,
Nor great Alcairo ſuch magnificence
For Treaſures better hid. Soon had his crew
Op'nd into the Hill a ſpacious wound
And dig'd out ribs of Gold. Let none admire 690
That riches grow in Hell; that ſoyle may beſt
Deſerve the pretious bane. And here let thoſe
Who boaſt in mortal things, and wondring tell
Of Babel, and the works of Memphian Kings,
Learn how their greateſt Monuments of Fame,
And Strength and Art, are eaſily outdone
By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour
What in an age they with inceſſant toyle
And hands innumerable ſcarce perform.
Nigh on the Plain in many cells prepar'd, 700
That underneath had veins of liquid fire
Sluc'd from the Lake, a ſecond multitude
With wondrous Art founded the maſſie Ore,
Severing each kinde, and ſcum'd the Bullion droſs:
A third as ſoon had form'd within the ground
A various mould, and from the boyling cells
By ſtrange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook,
As in an Organ from one blaſt of wind
To many a row of Pipes the ſound-board breaths.
A non out of the earth a Fabrick huge 710
Roſe like an Exhalation, with the ſound
Of Dulcet Symphonies and voices ſweet,
Built like a Temple, where Pilaſters round
Were ſet, and Doric pillars overlaid
With Golden Architrave; nor did there want
Cornice or Freeze, with boſſy Sculptures grav'n,
The Roof was fretted Gold. Not Babilon,
Nor great Alcairo ſuch magnificence
Equal'd
