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Beyond is all abyss, eternity, whose end no eye can reach.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Eye
Ends
Abyss
Eternity
Reach
Whose
Beyond
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The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
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Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.
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Confidence imparts a wonderful inspiration to the possessor.
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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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Reason is also choice.
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A good principle not rightly understood may prove as hurtful as a bad.
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Thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers.
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Rhime being no necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, in longer Works especially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter...the troublesom and modern bondage of Rimeing.
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The redundant locks, robustious to no purpose, clustering down--vast monument of strength.
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The helmed Cherubim, And sworded Seraphim, Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd.
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These evils I deserve, and more . . . . Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon, Whose ear is ever open, and his eye Gracious to re-admit the suppliant.
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The spirits perverse with easy intercourse pass to and fro, to tempt or punish mortals.
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Where no hope is left, is left no fear.
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Joking decides great things, Stronger and better oft than earnest can.
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Come and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe.
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True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.
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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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Suffering for truth's sake Is fortitude to highest victory, And to the faithful death the gate of life.
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Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
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What better can we do than prostrate fall before Him reverent, and there confess humbly our faults, and pardon beg with tears watering the ground?
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