Whence and what art thou, execrable shape! That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated front athwart my way To yonder gates? through them I mean to pass, That be assured, without leave asked of thee: Retire, or taste thy folly; and learn...
Paradise Lost: A Poem, in Twelve Books. The Author John Milton. The Sixth ... - Page 146
by John Milton - 1763
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