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A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond / Frightened the reign of Chaos and old Night.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Frightened
Chaos
Beyond
Hell
Night
Concave
Tore
Shout
Reign
More quotes by John Milton
Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones.
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They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy.
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Spirits that live throughout, Vital in every part, not as frail man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.
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In argument with men a woman ever Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause.
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Come and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe.
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The love-lorn nightingale nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well.
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Thus I set my printless feet O'er the cowslip's velvet head, That bends not as I tread.
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Each tree Laden with fairest fruit, that hung to th' eye Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite To pluck and eat.
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Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.
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And as an ev'ning dragon came, Assailant on the perched roosts And nests in order rang'd Of tame villatic fowl.
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And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
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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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Fairy damsels met in forest wide / By knights of Logres, or of Lyones, / Lancelot or Pelleas, or Pellenore.
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In vain doth valour bleed, While Avarice and Rapine share the land.
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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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The childhood shows the man As morning shows the day. Be famous then By wisdom as thy empire must extend, So let extend thy mind o'er all the world.
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Eloquence the soul, song charms the senses.
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Love Virtue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her.
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Temper justice with mercy.
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The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
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