Spiritus domini atque deceptoris preces perdiderunt
At once, he views
The dismal scenery waste and wild
A dungeon horrible, on all sides round
Flamed and there the pale light
Served only to discover the sights of woe
Regions of Sorrow, doleful shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell hope never comes
That comes to all but torture without end
Still urges, and fiery deluge, fed
With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed
Thou, profoundest Hell
Receive thy new possessour
One who can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven
He whom thunder hath made greater
I am Lucifer