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Anarchy is the sure consequence of tyranny for no power that is not limited by laws can ever be protected by them.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Power
Tyranny
Ever
Consequence
Laws
Revolution
Democracy
Law
Anarchy
Sure
Protected
Freedom
Limited
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Perplexed and troubled at his bad success The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply, Discovered in his fraud, thrown from his hope.
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Those graceful acts, those thousand decencies, that daily flow from all her words and actions, mixed with love and sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned union of mind, or in us both one soul.
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The sun to me is dark And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.
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Good luck befriend thee, Son for at thy birth The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth.
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I must not quarrel with the will Of highest dispensation, which herein, Haply had ends above my reach to know.
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O visions ill foreseen! Better had I Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne My part of evil only.
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For so I created them free and free they must remain.
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True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.
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The end of all learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love and imitate Him.
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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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Yet much remains To conquer still peace hath her victories No less renowned then war, new foes arise Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains: Help us to save free conscience from the paw Of hireling wolves whose gospel is their maw.
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The helmed Cherubim, And sworded Seraphim, Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd.
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O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death.
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No man who knows aught, can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free.
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Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls his watery labyrinth, which whoso drinks forgets both joy and grief.
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Hail, wedded love, mysterious law true source of human happiness.
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And sing to those that hold the vital shears And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of gods and men is wound.
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Let no man seek Henceforth to be foretold that shall befall Him or his children.
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Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.
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Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
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