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Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau! Mock on, mock on: 'Tis all in vain! You throw the sand against the wind, And the wind blows it back again. And every sand becomes a gem Reflected in the beams divine; Blown back they blind the mocking eye, But still in Israel's paths they shine. The atoms of Democritus And Newton's particles of light Are sands upon the Red Sea shore, Where Israel's tents do shine so bright.
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This life's dim windows of the soul Distorts the heavens from pole to pole And leads you to believe a lie When you see with, not through, the eye.
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One Power alone makes a Poet: Imagination. The Divine Vision.
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I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall.
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The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.
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You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.
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He who kisses joy as it flies by will live in eternity's sunrise.
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How sweet I roamed from field to field, And tasted all the summer's pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide!
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If you cannot imagine with the mind's eye much more than you can see with the mortal eye, you have a very poor imagination indeed.
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Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves the feet of angels bright; unseen they pour blessing, and joy without ceasing, on each bud and blossom, and each sleeping bosom.
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Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.
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As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius; which to Angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some of their Proverbs.
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What is now proved was once only imagined.
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The foundation of empire is art and science. Remove them or degrade them, and the empire is no more. Empire follows art and not vice versa as Englishmen suppose.
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Active Evil is better than Passive Good.
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Hold infinity in the palm of your hand.
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To the eyes of a miser a guinea is more beautiful than the sun, and a bag worn with the use of money has more beautiful proportions than a vine filled with grapes.
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My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt.
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Art degraded, Imagination denied.
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As a man is, so he sees.