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And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Sons
Wander
Alcohol
Forth
Belial
Son
Darkens
Wine
Flown
Streets
Insolence
Night
Alcoholism
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So little knows Any, but God alone, but perverts best things To worst abuse, or to their meanest use.
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So he with difficulty and labour hard Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour he.
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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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To know that which lies before us in daily life is the prime wisdom.
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As children gath'ring pebbles on the shore. Or if I would delight my private hours With music or with poem, where so soon As in our native language can I find That solace?
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Truth is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch as the sunbeam.
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Where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, That comes to all.
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Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown in courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, where most may wonder at the workmanship.
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To overcome in battle, and subdue Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch Of human glory.
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What is dark within me, illumine.
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Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
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What boots it at one gate to make defence, And at another to let in the foe?
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I call a complete and generous education that which fits a man to perform justly, skillfully, and magnanimously all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war.
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Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth.
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Where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mast'ry.
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So glistered the dire Snake , and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree Of Prohibition, root of all our woe.
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He who reigns within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is more than a king.
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