John Milton

Her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat;
Earth felt read more

Her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat;
Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat
Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe
That all was lost.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.

Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.

So many laws argues so many sins.

So many laws argues so many sins.

Adam, well may we labour, still to dress
This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower.

Adam, well may we labour, still to dress
This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower.