by Torquato Tasso
Satan his fiends and assembleth all,
And sends them forth to work the Christians woe,
False Hidraort their aid from hell doth call,
And sends Armida to entrap his foe:
She tells her birth, her fortune, and her fall,
Asks aid, allures and wins the worthies so
That they consent her enterprise to prove;
She wins them with , craft, beauty, love.
While thus their work went on with lucky speed,
And reared rams their horned fronts advance,
The Ancient Foe to man, and mortal seed,
His wannish eyes upon them bent askance;
And when he their labors well succeed,
He wept for rage, and threatened dire mischance.
He choked his curses, to he spake,
Such noise wild bulls that softly bellow make.
At last resolving in his damned
To find some let to stop their warlike feat,
He gave command his princes should be brought
Before the throne of his infernal seat.
O fool! as if it were a thing of naught
God to resist, or change his purpose great,
Who on his foes doth thunder in his ire,
Whose arrows hailstones he and coals of fire.
The dreary trumpet blew a dreadful blast,
Last updated January 14, 2019