For, lo! her twice ten thousand gates thrown wide,
As thrice from Indus to the frozen pole,
With banners streaming as the comet’s blaze,
And clarions, louder than the deep in storms,
Sonorous as immortal breath can blow, 325
Pour forth their myriads, potentates, and powers,
Of light, of darkness; in a middle field,
Wide, as creation! populous, as wide!
A neutral region! there to mark th’ event
Of that great drama, whose preceding scenes