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The love-lorn nightingale nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Nightly
Nightingale
Nightingales
Thee
Song
Wells
Well
Love
More quotes by John Milton
Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy In sceptred pall come sweeping by, Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine.
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The never-ending flight Of future days.
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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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Part of my soul I seek thee, and claim thee my other half
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Farewell Hope, and with Hope farewell Fear
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And yet on the other hand unless warinesse be us'd, as good almost kill a Man as kill a good Book who kills a Man kills a reasonable creature, Gods Image, but hee who destroyes a good Booke, kills reason it selfe, kills the Image of God, as it were in the eye.
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Not to know me argues yourselves unknown.
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Arm the obdured breast with stubborn patience as with triple steel.
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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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If weakness may excuse, What murderer, what traitor, parricide, Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it? All wickedness is weakness that plea, therefore, With God or man will gain thee no remission.
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Thrones, dominions, princedoms, virtues, powers-- If these magnific titles yet remain Not merely titular.
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Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.
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The conquer'd, also, and enslaved by war, Shall, with their freedom lost, all virtue lose.
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So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,Farewell remorse: all good to me is lostEvil,be thou my good.
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Truth is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch as the sunbeam.
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Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul And lap it in Elysium.
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The end of all learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love and imitate Him.
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Which way I fly is Hell myself am Hell.
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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.
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But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloisters pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight Casting a dim religious light.
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