I e'er should hate them thus.—Yet thus I hate them,
With all that bitter agony of soul
Which is the punishment of fiends. Alas!
It was my high ambition, to hold sway,
Sole, paramount, unquestion'd, o'er a third
Of Heaven's resplendent legions:—Power and glory
Dwelt on them, like an elemental essence
That could not be destroyed.—I could not deem
That aught could so extinguish the pure fire
Of their sun-like beauty—yet 'tis changed!—