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" Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. "
Recollections of a Literary Life: Or, Books, Places and People - Trang 320
bởi Mary Russell Mitford - 1852 - 558 trang
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The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of The ..., Tập 7

1820 - 596 trang
...thou art pouring forth tby soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have eats in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou...No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I heat this passing night, was heard In ancient days by çmperor and clow» : Perhaps the self-same song...

Spirit of the English Magazines, Tập 10

1821 - 488 trang
...midnight with no pain. While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still won lost thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high...born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations teead thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown...

Time's Telescope for ... ; Or, A Complete Guide to the Almanack

1823 - 400 trang
...no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wonldst thou siug, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become...; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart...

The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J. Aitken]., Tập 1

Cabinet - 1824 - 440 trang
...upon the midnight with no pain, ' While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy ! Still would'st thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod. VII. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...

The Every-day Book: Or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports ...

William Hone - 1827 - 858 trang
...cease opon the midnight with no pain, While thou ait pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy 1 Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Г. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...

Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of the ..., Tập 1

Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 500 trang
...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—...and clown : Perhaps the self-same song that found path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for borne, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ;...

Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of the ..., Tập 1

Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 512 trang
...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—-...and clown : Perhaps the self-same song that found path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The...

The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Tập 2

William Hone - 1830 - 868 trang
...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...

Abaddon, the Spirit of Destruction: And Other Poems

Sumner Lincoln Fairfield - 1830 - 172 trang
...himself. What can be more distinct, beautiful, and true, than this address to the nightingale : — " Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I heard this passing night, was heard In ancient days, by emperor and clown ; Perhaps the self same song...

Abaddon, the Spirit of Destruction: And Other Poems

Sumner Lincoln Fairfield - 1830 - 172 trang
...wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I heard this passing night, was heard In ancient days, by emperor and clown ; Perhaps the self same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears...




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