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What is dark within me, illumine.
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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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In contemplation of created things, by steps we may ascend to God.
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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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Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties.
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And every shepherd tells his taleUnder the hawthorn in the dale.
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If it come to prohibiting, there is aught more likely to be prohibited than truth itself.
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You can make hell out of heaven and heaven out of hell. It's all in the mind.
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This is servitude, To serve the unwise.
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Till old experience do attainTo something like prophetic strain.
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Though we take from a covetous man all his treasure, he has yet one jewel left; you cannot bereave him of his covetousness.
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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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Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
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If at great things thou would'st arrive, Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap, Not difficult, if thou hearken to me; Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand, They whom I favor thrive in wealth amain, While virtue, valor, wisdom, sit in want.
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Ladies, whose bright eyesRain influence, and judge the prize.
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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.
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Such as may make thee search the coffers round.
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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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The virtuous mind that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
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They also serve who only stand and wait.
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There is nothing that making men rich and strong but that which they carry inside of them. True wealth is of the heart, not of the hand.
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Virtue that wavers is not virtue, but vice revolted from itself, and after a while returning. The actions of just and pious men do not darken in their middle course.
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The liberty of conscience, which above all other things ought to be to all men dearest and most precious.
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It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark.