Go see for your self

The subject expresess positive willingness to submit to assessment, but will he be placed on the revenue stream?

R'lyeh

Devils Hear the Call

Satan marches to the beach of the flaming sea and turns to view his defeated angels, still astonished after their fall from Heaven, and the poet compares their ruin to scenes of war and cataclysm as chronicled in human lore. The view is one of darkness, desolation, and tossing destruction.  His booming voice shaking the deeps of Hell, the arch deceiver admonishes his armies that their situation might allow further attack in the form of thunderbolts from above, which could chain them forever to the flaming waves, and so urges them to stir themselves and join ranks upon the shore.

Nathless he so endur'd, till on the Beach
Of that inflamed Sea, he stood and call'd
His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans't
Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks
In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades
High overarch't imbowr; or scatterd sedge
Afloat, when with fierce Winds Orion arm'd
Hath vext the Red-Sea Coast, whose waves orethrew
Busiris and his Memphian Chivalry,
While with perfidious hatred they pursu'd
The Sojourners of Goshen, who beheld
From the safe shore thir floating Carkases
And broken Chariot Wheels, so thick bestrown
Abject and lost lay these, covering the Flood,
Under amazement of thir hideous change.
He call'd so loud, that all the hollow Deep
Of Hell resounded. "Princes, Potentates,
Warriers, the Flowr of Heav'n, once yours, now lost,
If such astonishment as this can sieze
Eternal spirits; or have ye chos'n this place
After the toyl of Battel to repose
Your wearied vertue, for the ease you find
To slumber here, as in the Vales of Heav'n?
Or in this abject posture have ye sworn
To adore the Conquerour? who now beholds
Cherube and Seraph rowling in the Flood
With scatter'd Arms and Ensigns, till anon
His swift pursuers from Heav'n Gates discern
Th' advantage, and descending tread us down
Thus drooping, or with linked Thunderbolts
Transfix us to the bottom of this Gulfe.
Awake, arise, or be for ever fall'n."

They heard, and were abasht, and up they sprung…

 

                     --Paradise  Lost, Book I, lines 299-331 

 

Boris Artzybasheff

Angels with Harps

In Paradise Lost Book III, Lines 344-371, God pronounces the glory of his Son, who has signaled his astonishing offer of his self as sacrifice to redeem Man. The angels respond by throwing down their circlets, described as crowns interwoven with red flowers and golden beams of light. The flowers are Amarant, which the poet describes as a blossom first found at the foot of the Tree of Life, but after Man's Fall native only to Heaven, where they grow around the Fountain of Life from which flows the amber river of Bliss, winding through heavenly fields. At the angels' feet the pavement of red crystal (Revelation 21:11) is enhanced by the beauty of the garlands, now described as purple--the admixture of blossoms and light, which contributes new beauty to their crowns. Delighting in the beauty around them, the angels retrieve their circlets, place them again around their flying hair, take up their harps and produce melodious preludes as they prepare to sing.

No sooner had th' Almighty ceas't, but all
The multitude of Angels with a shout 
Loud as from numbers without number, sweet
As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heav'n rung
With Jubilee, and loud Hosanna's filld
Th' eternal Regions: lowly reverent
Towards either Throne they bow, and to the ground
With solemn adoration down they cast
Thir Crowns inwove with Amarant and Gold,
Immortal Amarant, a Flour which once
In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life
Began to bloom, but soon for mans offence   
To Heav'n remov'd where first it grew, there grows,
And flours aloft shading the Fount of Life,
And where the river of Bliss through midst of Heavn
Rowls o're Elisian Flours her Amber stream;
With these that never fade the Spirits elect   
Bind thir resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams,
Now in loose Garlands thick thrown off, the bright
Pavement that like a Sea of Jasper shon
Impurpl'd with Celestial Roses smil'd.
Then Crown'd again thir gold'n Harps they took,
Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by thir side
Like Quivers hung, and with Præamble sweet
Of charming symphonie they introduce
Thir sacred Song, and waken raptures high;
No voice exempt, no voice but well could joine     
Melodious part, such concord is in Heav'n.

      Paradise Lost, Book III, Lines 344-371