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For evil news rides post, while good news baits.
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But say That death be not one stroke, as I supposed, Bereaving sense, but endless misery From this day onward, which I feel begun Both in me, and without me, and so last To perpetuity; ay me, that fear Comes thund'ring back with dreadful revolution On my defenceless head; both Death and I Am found eternal, and incorporate both, Nor I on my part single, in me all Paradise Lost Posterity stands cursed: fair patrimony That I must leave ye, sons; O were I able To waste it all myself, and leave ye none!
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Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,Where thou perhaps under the whelming tideVisit'st the bottom of the monstrous world.
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Such bickerings to recount, met often in these our writers, what more worth is it than to chronicle the wars of kites or crows flocking and fighting in the air?
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When we speak of knowing God, it must be understood with reference to man's limited powers of comprehension. God, as He really is, is far beyond man's imagination, let alone understanding. God has revealed only so much of Himself as our minds can conceive and the weakness of our nature can bear.
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Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.
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But see! theVirgin blessed Hath laid her Babe to rest. Time is our tedious song should here have ending.
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This is servitude, To serve the unwise.
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It was that fatal and perfidious bark,Built in th' eclipse, and rigged with curses dark,That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
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Thrones, dominions, princedoms, virtues, powers-- If these magnific titles yet remain Not merely titular.
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Suffering for truth's sake Is fortitude to highest victory, And to the faithful death the gate of life.
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Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements, these piercing fires As soft as now severe, our temper changed Into their temper.
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In contemplation of created things, by steps we may ascend to God.
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And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon.
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They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy.
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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.
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Forget thyself to marble.
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Awake, arise or be for ever fall in.
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But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began.
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O loss of sight, of thee I most complain! Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, dungeon or beggary, or decrepit age! Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, and all her various objects of delight annulled, which might in part my grief have eased. Inferior to the vilest now become of man or worm; the vilest here excel me, they creep, yet see; I, dark in light, exposed to daily fraud, contempt, abuse and wrong, within doors, or without, still as a fool, in power of others, never in my own; scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half.
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To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
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And if by prayer Incessant I could hope to change the will Of Him who all things can, I would not cease To weary Him with my assiduous cries.
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The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents.
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No war or battle sound Was heard the world around.