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Opens vast covert maze of ghostly paths,
In hollow rocks, before our fearful pace.
Therein be gliding múltitude óf passed spirits;
In grave-clothes wound, descending from their deaths!
Enforced our steps, for Power is come upon us;
Like unto that, which over them prevails.
We go down, by great shelves of craggéd rock;
To deadly undigged vast Gulf: Abysmal Place
Under West half, of wíde, round-eddying, Earth.
Whose horrid walls, in dim default of Light;
Our torches gleam reveals uneath. There spirits;

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Pale drooping troops, in languor of their deaths;
From hundred galleries, which do there Converge;
Arrive each moment.
Standing them amidst,
Be mighty Æons, pride-fallen from Starry Height;
Before the birth of Time, or thís World was.
Being later cóndemned tó Death-Pit of Earth:
Is there their Task, to marshal souls in flocks:
And winnowed fróm lives' dross, in balances, poise:
And ássign, áfter their deserts, in ranks;
Unto their several wards, to sleep in death.