Nominem tuum despicamur, denegamus nostram originem. Spiritus domini atque verba deceptoris preces perdiderunt. At once, he views The dismal scenery waste and wild, A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, Flam`d ; and there the pale light Served only to discover sights of woe. Regions of Sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell ; hope never comes, That comes to all ; but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulpur unconsum`d.
--"Thou, profoundest Hell, Receive thy new possession ; One who can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven, He whom thunder hath made greater! I am Lucifer."
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