Clean natures coin pure statutes.  Let us cleanse
  The hearts that beat within us; let us mow
  Clear to the roots our falseness and pretence,
  Tread down our rank ambitions, overthrow
  Our braggart moods of puffed self-consequence,
  Plough up our hideous thistles which do grow
  Faster than maize in May time, and strike dead
  The base infections our low greeds have bred.

RICHARD REALF.

* * * * *

III.

WAR.

* * * * *

BATTLE OF THE ANGELS.

FROM “PARADISE LOST,” BOOK VI.

THE ARRAY.

                      Now went forth the morn,
  Such as in highest heaven, arrayed in gold
  Empyreal; from before her vanished night,
  Shot through with orient beams; when all the plain
  Covered with thick embattled squadrons bright,
  Chariots, and flaming arms, and fiery steeds,
  Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view.

* * * * *

The apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat,
Idol of majesty divine, enclosed
With flaming cherubim, and golden shields;
Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now
’Twixt host and host but narrow space was left,
A dreadful interval, and front to front
Presented stood in terrible array
Of hideous length:  before the cloudy van,
On the rough edge of battle ere it joined,
Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced,
Came towering, armed in adamant and gold.

THE CONFLICT.

                    Michael bid sound
  The archangel trumpet; through the vast of heaven
  It sounded, and the faithful armies rung
  Hosanna to the Highest:  nor stood at gaze
  The adverse legions, nor less hideous joined
  The horrid shock.  Now storming fury rose,
  And clamor, such as heard in heaven till now
  Was never; arms on armor clashing brayed
  Horrible discord, and the madding wheels
  Of brazen chariots raged; dire was the noise
  Of conflict; overhead the dismal hiss
  Of fiery darts in flaming volleys flew,
  And flying vaulted either host with fire. 
  So under fiery cope together rushed
  Both battles main, with ruinous assault
  And inextinguishable rage.  All heaven
  Resounded; and had earth been then, all earth
  Had to her centre shook.

* * * * *

                      Deeds of eternal fame
  Were done, but infinite:  for wide was spread
  That war, and various:  sometimes on firm ground
  A standing fight, then, soaring on main wing,
  Tormented all the air; all air seemed then
  Conflicting fire.

* * * * *