Eastward amoung those trees what glorious shape Comes this way moving Gustave Dore (1832-1883)

Gustave Dore – Eastward amoung those trees what glorious shape Comes this way moving

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Painter: Gustave Dore

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Gustave Dore - Now to the ascent of that steep savage hill Satan hath journeyd on pensive and slow

Gustave Dore - A happy rural seat of various view

Gustave Dore - The savoury pulp they chew and in the rind Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming

Gustave Dore - So promised he and Uriel to his charge

Gustave Dore - These to the bower direct In search of whom they sought

Gustave Dore - Nor mor but fled Murmuring and with him fled the shades of night

Gustave Dore - To whom the winged Hierarch replied O Adam one Almighty is from whom All things proceed

Gustave Dore - This greeting on thy impious crest receive

Gustave Dore - Now storming fury rose And clamour such as heard in heaven till now Was never

Gustave Dore - Then Satan first knew pain And writhed him to and fro

Gustave Dore - Now Night her course began

Gustave Dore - On the foughten field Michael and his angels prevalent Encamping placed in guard their wa

Gustave Dore - Nine days they fell

Gustave Dore - Hell at last Yawning received them whole

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