We, the host of seraphium, the armies bright

We do not true the dire event

That, with sad overthrow and foul defeat, hath lost us heaven

Ever to do ill will be our sole delight

Reassembling our afflicted powers

On the burning lake of burning fire

Hail horrours!

Hail infernal world !

Here at last we shall be free

Better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven