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A man may be ungrateful, but the human race is not so.
John Milton
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Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.
John Milton
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No man who knows aught, can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free.
John Milton
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Each tree Laden with fairest fruit, that hung to th' eye Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite To pluck and eat.
John Milton
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Her silent course advance With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps On her soft axle.
John Milton
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Hence, loathèd Melancholy,Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born,In Stygian cave forlorn,'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy.
John Milton
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Our two first parents, yet the only two Of mankind, in the happy garden placed, Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love, Uninterrupted joy, unrivalled love In blissful solitude.
John Milton
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Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among, I woo, to hear thy even-song.
John Milton
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Nor think thou with wind Of æry threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not.
John Milton
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True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.
John Milton
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Just deeds are the best answer to injurious words.
John Milton
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Implied Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway, And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd,- Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay.
John Milton
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And in their motions harmony divine So smoothes her charming tones, that God's own ear Listens delighted.
John Milton
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So shall the world go on, To good malignant, to bad men benign, Under her own weight groaning.
John Milton
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For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains,And disapproves that care, though wise in show,That with superfluous burden loads the day,And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
John Milton
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Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?
John Milton
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Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
John Milton
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The low'ring element Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape.
John Milton
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Boast not of what thou would'st have done, but do.
John Milton
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He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon.
John Milton
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A grateful mind/ By owing owes not, but still pays, at once/ Indebted and discharg'd.
John Milton
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The brazen throat of war.
John Milton
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Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.
John Milton
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They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy.
John Milton
