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Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul And lap it in Elysium.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Singing
Soul
Take
Would
Elysium
Sung
Lap
Prison
More quotes by John Milton
Necessity and chance Approach not me, and what I will is fate.
John Milton
Hate is of all things the mightiest divider, nay, is division itself. To couple hatred, therefore, though wedlock try all her golden links, and borrow to tier aid all the iron manacles and fetters of law, it does but seek to twist a rope of sand.
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Let no man seek Henceforth to be foretold that shall befall Him or his children.
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So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity, That when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, And in clear dream and solemn vision Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear, Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape.
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I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs By the known rules of ancient liberty, When straight a barbarous noise environs me Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs.
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As therefore the state of man now is, what wisdom can there be to choose, what continence to forbear, without the knowledge of good and evil?
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Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate
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And these gems of Heav'n, her starry train.
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Satan so call him now, his former name Is heard no more in heaven.
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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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For Solomon, he lived at ease, and full Of honour, wealth, high fare, aimed not beyond Higher design than to enjoy his state.
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Indu'd With sanctity of reason.
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Th' ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair.
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Gratitude bestows reverence.....changing forever how we experience life and the world.
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As in an organ from one blast of wind To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes.
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Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.
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With a smile that glow'd Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.
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Nothing lovelier can be found In woman, than to study household good, And good works in her husband to promote.
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Here the great art lies, to discern in what the law is to be to restraint and punishment, and in what things persuasion only is to work.
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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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