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How often from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive each to other's note, Singing their great Creator?
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Heard
Sole
Thickets
Voice
Voices
Echoing
Often
Hills
Responsive
Great
Creator
Steep
Notes
Celestial
Worship
Hill
Air
Midnight
Singing
Note
Thicket
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Let not England forget her precedence of teaching nations how to live.
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O sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere.
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His words, like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about him at command. Ibid.
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First Moloch, horrid king, besmirched in blood, Of Human sacrifice, and parent's tears, Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, Their childrens' cries unheard, that passed through fire, To his grim idol.
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There is no truth sure enough to justify persecution.
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Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
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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.
John Milton
O visions ill foreseen! Better had I Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne My part of evil only.
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Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me man? Did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me?
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Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter.
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Come knit hands, and beat the ground in a light fantastic round
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Thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers.
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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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If there be any difference among professed believers as to the sense of Scripture, it is their duty to tolerate such difference in each other, until God shall have revealed the truth to all.
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Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heav'n.
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There are no songs comparable to the songs of Zion, no orations equal to those of the prophets, and no politics like those which the Scriptures teach.
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The helmed Cherubim, And sworded Seraphim, Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd.
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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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This manner of writing wherein knowing myself inferior to myself? I have the use, as I may account it, but of my left hand.
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Here we may reign secure and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.
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