Th’ Arch-Enemy,
	And thence in Heav’n called Satan, with bold words
	Breaking the horrid silence thus began:
	 If thou beest he (but O how fall’n! how changed
	From him who in the happy realms of light
	Clothed with transcendent brightness didst outshine
	Myriads, though bright!), if he whom mutual league,
	United thoughts and counsels, equal hope
	And hazard in the glorious enterprise
	Joined with me once (now misery hath joined
	In equal ruin), into what pit thou seest
	From what heighth fall’n, so much the stronger proved
	He with His thunder (and till then who knew
	The force of those dire arms?), yet not for those
	Nor what the potent Victor in His rage
	Can else inflict do I repent or change,
	Though changed in outward luster, that fixed mind
	And high disdain from sense of injured merit
	That with the Mightiest raised me to contend
	And to the fierce contention brought along
	Innumerable force of spirits armed
	That durst dislike His reign and, me preferring,
	His utmost pow’r with adverse pow’r opposed
	In dubious battle on the plains of Heav’n
	And shook His throne. What though the field be lost?
	All is not lost: th’ unconquerable will
	And study of revenge, immortal hate
	And courage never to submit or yield—
	And what is else not to be overcome?
	That glory never shall His wrath or might
	Extort from me: to bow and sue for grace
	With suppliant knee and deify His pow’r
	Who from the terror of this arm so late
	Doubted His empire! That were low indeed,
	That were an ignominy and shame beneath
	This downfall, since by fate the strength of gods
	And this empyreal substance cannot fail,
	Since through experience of this great event,
	In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced,
	We may with more successful hope resolve
	To wage by force or guile eternal war
	Irreconcilable to our grand Foe
	Who now triumphs and in th’ excess of joy
	Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heav’n.
            
                
                  
                                        
                                        From Paradise Lost. Readers of Milton’s epic poem, first published in 1667, have long had divided allegiances regarding its biblical feud; William Blake, who illustrated the work, said Milton was “of the devil’s party without knowing it” and that God’s language was “flat, uncolored, unmetaphorical.” Centuries later C.S. Lewis wrote, “Many of those who say they dislike Milton’s God only mean that they dislike God.” In 2017 the writer and scholar Ed Simon argued that Lucifer remains relevant as “a kind of modern American antihero, invented before such a concept really existed.”
                   
                
          
	
	
	  
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