The lily and rose, that neither sow'd nor spun. What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise To hear the lute well touch'd, or artful voice Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air ? He who of those delights...
The Poetical Works of John Milton: With the Life of the Author - Seite 217
von John Milton - 1813 - 565 Seiten