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And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown that Sylvan loves...

The Poetical Works of John Milton - Page 285
by John Milton - 1834 - 392 pages
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The Poem: A Critical Anthology

Josephine Miles - American poetry - 1959 - 584 pages

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An Introduction to Literature, Volume 3

Herbert Barrows, Gordon Norton Ray - American poetry - 1959 - 388 pages

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How Does a Poem Mean?

John Ciardi - American poetry - 1960 - 392 pages

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Poems

John Milton - Cities and towns - 1970 - 714 pages

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The Harvard Classics, Volume 4

Literature - 1909 - 502 pages

...the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves, With minute drops from off the eaves. And, when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe with heaved stroke Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...

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