BOOK IX.
Th' eternal Father, bending from on high, Serenely views the passing scenes of earth, And gives the summons, which around his throne, Frequent, th' angelic citizens convokes. Swift, at his nod, the flaming seraphs fly, Thronging innum'rable the heav'nly plains ; Who well knew, both as from angelic ken, Which no obstruction finds through distant view, And of late messengers from earth arrived, The doleful sequence of redemption's plan, Impending sorrow to the Son of God. With pity touch'd, though not their bliss impair'd, They wait the mandates of supernal Pow'r j Whom, now attent, He calmly thus address'd :
" Princes of heav'n, celestial orders bright, Participants with me in ceaseless joy, Behold the measure of my love for man, Before the worlds began, ye were ; and ere Intestine wars your blissful seats disturbed, Or heav'n embroil'd, my providence ye knew; Knew me, and on Whom from eternity, The full effulgence of my glory shone,
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