Rick Walker

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But mark what I arreed thee now, Avant; Fly neither whence thou fledst! If from this hour Within these hallowed limits thou appear, Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chained, 965 And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn The facile gates of Hell too slightly barred. So threatened he; but Satan to no threats Gave heed, but waxing more in rage replied. Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, 970 Proud limitary Cherub! but ere then Far heavier load thyself expect to feel From my prevailing arm,
Paradise Lost
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