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It was the winter wildWhile the Heav'n-born childAll meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies.
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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.
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The virtuous mind that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
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Nor think thou with wind Of æry threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not.
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There swift return Diurnal, merely to officiate light Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot.
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Mirth, admit me of thy crew,To live with her, and live with thee,In unreprovèd pleasures free.
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Till old experience do attainTo something like prophetic strain.
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I fled, and cry'd out, Death; Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh'd From all her caves, and back resounded, Death.
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To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
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Lords are lordliest in their wine.
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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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Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise. That last infirmity of noble mind. To scorn delights, and live laborious days.
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They also serve who only stand and wait.
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And storied windows richly dight,Casting a dim religious light.There let the pealing organ blow,To the full-voiced choir below,In service high, and anthems clearAs may, with sweetness, through mine earDissolve me into ecstasies,And bring all heaven before mine eyes.
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Ornate rhetoric thought out of the rule of Plato... To which poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather precedent, as being less subtle and fine, but more simple, sensuous, and passionate.
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... then there was war in heaven. But it was not angels. It was that small golden zeppelin, like a long oval world, high up. It seemed as if the cosmic order were gone, as if there had come a new order, a new heavens above us: and as if the world in anger were trying to revoke it.
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He that studieth revenge keepeth his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal and do well.
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Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
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Nothing profits more than self-esteem, grounded on what is just and right.
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Here the great art lies, to discern in what the law is to be to restraint and punishment, and in what things persuasion only is to work.
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Our country is where ever we are well off.
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So dear I love him, that with him, all deaths I could endure, without him, live no life.
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Should God create another Eve, and I Another Rib afford, yet loss of thee Would never from my heart; no no, I feel The Link of Nature draw me: Flesh of Flesh, Bone of my Bone thou art, and from thy State Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.
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I will point ye out the right path of a virtuous and noble Education; laborious indeed at first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect, and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming.