Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.

Author   John MiltonTopics   Poetry, Nature, Creativity, Mortality, Artistic Process Copy Share on Share on Facebook Share on Pinterest Share on Twitter

John Milton’s Quotes On Topics

More John Milton Quotes