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Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the earth with odours, fruits, flocks, Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, But all to please and sate the curious taste?
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Please
Pour
Odours
Full
Fruits
Bounties
Hand
Covering
Wherefore
Nature
Forth
Spawn
Hands
Curious
Innumerable
Earth
Fruit
Bounty
Sea
Flocks
Taste
Seas
Sate
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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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O madness to think use of strongest wines And strongest drinks our chief support of health, When God with these forbidden made choice to rear His mighty champion, strong above compare, Whose drink was only from the liquid brook.
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But infinite in pardon is my Judge.
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Nor think thou with wind Of æry threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not.
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Nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
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So glistered the dire Snake , and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree Of Prohibition, root of all our woe.
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His rod revers'd, And backward mutters of dissevering power.
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Myself, and all the Angelic Host, that stand in the sight of God enthroned, our happy state hold, as you yours, while our obedience hold. On other surety none: freely we serve, because we freely love.
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Earth felt the wound and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.
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Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate
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O fairest of creation, last and best Of all God's works, creature in whom excelled Whatever can to sight or thought be formed, Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, Defaced, deflow'red, and now to death devote? Paradise Lost
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That space the Evil One abstracted stood From his own evil, and for the time remained Stupidly good, of enmity disarmed, Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge .
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I must not quarrel with the will Of highest dispensation, which herein, Haply had ends above my reach to know.
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Where shame is, there is also fear.
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Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
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Let none admire that riches grow in hell that soil may best deserve the precious bane.
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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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So little knows Any, but God alone, but perverts best things To worst abuse, or to their meanest use.
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Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook.
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Thrones, dominions, princedoms, virtues, powers-- If these magnific titles yet remain Not merely titular.
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