Awake : The morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us ; we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom...
Paradisus amissus: Poema Joannis Miltoni. Latine redditum a Guilielmo Dobson ... - Page 202
by John Milton - 1750
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