O Myriads of immortal Spirits, O Powers Matchless, but with…

O Myriads of immortal Spirits, O Powers Matchless, but with th’ Almighty, and that strife Was not inglorious, though th’ event was dire, As this place testifies, and this dire change Hateful to utter: but what power of mind Foreseeing or presaging, from the Depth Of knowledge past or present, could have fear’d, How such united force of Gods, how such As stood like these, could ever know repulse? For who can yet beleeve, though after loss, That all these puissant Legions, whose exile Hath emptied Heav’n, shall faile to re-ascend Self-rais’d, and repossess their native seat. For me, be witness all the Host of Heav’n, If counsels different, or danger shun’d By me, have lost our hopes.