Satan, Prince of Darkness

I sinned, but gloriously. I bore the fall
From Heaven’s high places as becomes a king.
I did not shrink before the utmost sting
Of torture or of banishment. The pall
Of Dis, I cried, should be the hall
Where sad proud men of men should meet and sing
The woes of that defeat ambitions bring
Hurled from the last vain fight against the wall.

I thought I had been punished. To forego
All lovely sights, the whisper of fresh rain,
To brood forever endlessly on pain
Yet still a Prince, Ah God, I dreamed,--and then
I learned my Fate, this wandering to and fro
In Devil’s work among the sons of men.