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What better can we do than prostrate fall before Him reverent, and there confess humbly our faults, and pardon beg with tears watering the ground?
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Anger and just rebuke, and judgment given, That brought into this world a world of woe, Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery, Death's harbinger.
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Freely we serve, Because we freely love, as in our will To love or not; in this we stand or fall.
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How charming is divine philosophy! Not harsh and crabb...
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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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Among unequals what society Can sort, what harmony, or true delight?
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The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day.
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Thy actions to thy words accord; thy words To thy large heart give utterance due; thy heart; Contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
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I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night, Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down The dark descent, and up to reascend.
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O shame to men! Devil with devil damned Firm concord holds, men only disagree Of creatures rational, though under hope Of heavenly grace: and God proclaiming peace, Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife Among themselves, and levy cruel wars, Wasting the earth, each other to destroy: As if (which might induce us to accord) Man had not hellish foes enough besides, That day and night for his destruction wait.
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Let not England forget her precedence of teaching nations how to live.
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But, O sad Virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower, Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as warbled to the string, Drew Iron tears down Pluto’s cheek, And made Hell grant what Love did seek.
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In naked beauty most adorned.
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Most men admire Virtue who follow not her lore.
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Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image, but thee who destroys a good book, kills reason its self.
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He who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things ought himself to be a true poem.
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Have hungMy dank and dropping weedsTo the stern god of sea.
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Our reason is our law.
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To know that which lies before us in daily life is the prime wisdom.
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The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide: They hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.
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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.
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One sip of this will bathe the drooping spirits in delight, beyond the bliss of dreams.
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Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,And Laughter, holding both his sides.Come, and trip it, as you go.On the light fantastic toe.
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His rod revers'd, And backward mutters of dissevering power.