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The earth, though in comparison of heaven so small, nor glistering, may of solid good contain more plenty than the sun, that barren shines.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Though
Shines
Heaven
Contain
Earth
Solid
May
Comparison
Good
Plenty
Shining
Sun
Small
Barren
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What reinforcement we may gain from hope If not, what resolution from despair.
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Dark with excessive bright.
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He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun Himself his own dungeon.
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From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging.
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A short retirement urges a sweet return.
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A limbo large and broad, since call'd The Paradise of Fools to few unknown.
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The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But, swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
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Man hath his daily work of body or mind Appointed.
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Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
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To live a life half dead, a living death.
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He who tempts, though in vain, at last asperses The tempted with dishonor foul, supposed Not incorruptible of faith, not proof Against temptation.
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Freely we serve, Because we freely love, as in our will To love or not in this we stand or fall.
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The great creator from his work returned Magnificent, his six days' work, a world.
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Few sometimes may know, when thousands err.
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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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Let none admire that riches grow in hell that soil may best deserve the precious bane.
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Anon out of the earth a fabric huge Rose, like an exhalation.
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The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him, as we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes up the highest perfection.
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But all was false and hollow though his tongue Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, 4 to perplex and dash Maturest counsels.
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And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
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