Climate, or years, damp my intended wing.
Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 44.
Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 171.
The work under our labour grows,
Luxurious by restraint.
Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 208.
Smiles from reason flow,
To brute deny'd, and are of love the food.