Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice Art In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon Poured forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain, Both where the morning sun first warmly smote The open field, and where the unpierced shade Imbrowned the noontide... Paradise Lost: A Poem in Twelve Books - Page 66 by John Milton - 1903 - 372 pages Full view -
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