What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; And when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ; The hungry sheep look up and are not fed, But swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly...
Paradise Lost: A Poem, in Twelve Books. The Author John Milton. From the ... - Page vi
by John Milton - 1759 - 416 pages
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