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Evil on itself shall back recoil.
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And now without redemption all mankind Must have been lost, adjudged to death and hell By doom severe.
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But hail thou Goddess sage and holy, Hail, divinest Melancholy, Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight, And therefore to our weaker view O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue.
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Still paying, still to owe. Eternal woe!
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Thus I set my printless feet O'er the cowslip's velvet head, That bends not as I tread.
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Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.
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Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter.
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I on the other side Us'd no ambition to commend my deeds; The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the doer.
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Without the meed of some melodious tear.
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God made thee perfect, not immutable.
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Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine.
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For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor;So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed;And yet anon repairs his drooping head,And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled oreFlames in the forehead of the morning sky.So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,Through the dear might of him that walked the waves.
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How gladly would I meet mortality, my sentence, and be earth in sensible! How glad would lay me down, as in my mother's lap! There I should rest, and sleep secure.
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Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named not good.
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By night the Glass Of Galileo ... observes Imagin'd Land and Regions in the Moon.
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Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the earth with odours, fruits, flocks, Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, But all to please and sate the curious taste?
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Meadows trim, with daisies pied,Shallow brooks, and rivers wide;Towers and balements it seesBosomed high in tufted trees,Where perhaps some beauty lies,The cynosure of neighboring eyes.
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A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace, flamed; yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible Serv'd only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all; but torture without end.
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I will not deny but that the best apology against false accusers is silence and sufferance, and honest deeds set against dishonest words.
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To adore the conqueror, who now beholds Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood.
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But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience.
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It is Chastity, my brother. She that has that is clad in complete steel.
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But now my task is smoothly done, I can fly, or I can run Quickly to the green earth's end, Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend, And from thence can soar as soon To the corners of the Moon.
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Good, the more communicated, more abundant grows.