Antistrophe

Alas! where now those erring Spirits? What sorcery From their dear certainty Seduced them, vainly luring Them from their rank and state? Led them to wicked daring? Our bliss became too great, Too wanton for our bearing; E'en Heaven's altitude The Angels were outgrowing; And then came Envy's brood. Seeds of Rebellion sowing In the peaceful Fatherland. Who cools War's lurid brand?