There to dwell in adamantine chains and penal fire
Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms
Nine times the space that measures day and night
Rolling in the fiery gulf, confounded though immortal
But his doom reserved him to more wrath
For now the thought
Both of lost happiness and lasting pain, torments him

Round he throws his baleful eyes
That witnessed huge affliction and dismay
Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate
At once, as far as Angels ken, he views
The dismal situation, waste and wild
A dungeon horrible, on all sides round
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
As one great furnace flamed
Yet from those flames no light
But rather darkness visible