John Milton,
Paradise Lost (1674) — Book VI
(1674)
“ Which of us who beholds the bright surface Of this ethereous mould whereon we stand, This continent of spacious Heaven, adorned 475With plant, fruit, flower ambrosial, gems, and gold; Whose eye so superficially surveys These things, as not to mind from whence they grow Deep under ground, materials dark and crude, Of spiritous and fiery spume, till touched 480With Heaven's ray, and tempered, they shoot forth So beauteous, opening to the ambient light? These in their dark nativity the deep Shall yield us, pregnant with infernal flame ”
