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For I dance And drink and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength and breath And the want Of thought is death Then am I A happy fly If I live Or if I die.
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There is a smile of love, And there is a smile of deceit, And there is a smile of smiles In which these two smiles meet.
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For the Eye altering alters all; The Senses roll themselves in fear And the flat Earth becomes a Ball.
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Where cheating is, there's mischief there.
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Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.
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Love seeketh only self to please, To bind another to its delight, Joys in another's loss of ease, And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.
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When Sir Joshua Reynolds died All Nature was degraded.
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Jerusalem (1804) And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England's mountains green And was the holy lamb of God On England's pleasant pastures seen And did the countenance divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills And was Jerusalem builded here Among those dark Satanic mills Bring me my bow of burning gold Bring me my arrows of desire Bring me my spears o'clouds unfold Bring me my chariot of fire I will not cease from mental fight Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand 'Til we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land.
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To me this world is all one continued vision of fancy or imagination, and I feel flattered when I am told so. What is it sets Homer, Virgil and Milton in so high a rank of art? Why is the Bible more entertaining and instructive than any other book? Is it not because they are addressed to the imagination, which is spiritual sensation, and but immediately to the understanding or reason?
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If a thing loves, it is infinite.
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Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty !
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The Woman that does not love your Frowns Will never embrace your smiles.
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One thought fills immensity.
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Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine.
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He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing, And mocks my loss of liberty.
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To some people a tree is something so incredibly beautiful that it brings tears to the eyes. To others it is just a green thing that stands in the way.
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He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be beloved by men.
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Poetry fettered, fetters the human race. Nations are destroyed or flourish in proportion as their poetry, painting, and music are destroyed or flourish.
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Gratitude, in itself, is heaven.
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Opposition is true friendship.
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Where others see but the dawn coming over the hill, I see the soul of God shouting for joy.
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He who shall teach the child to doubt The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
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All the destruction in Christian Europe has arisen from deism, which is natural religion.
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Naught can deform the human race Like to the armor's iron brace.