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" My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears: My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate... "
Scott's Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field - Trang 218
bởi Walter Scott - 1899 - 335 trang
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Hebrew Melodies

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1815 - 324 trang
...none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON. A FABLE. I. My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night,2 As men's have grown from sudden fears : My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted...

The Critical Review: Or, Annals of Literature, Tập 4

Tobias Smollett - 1816 - 674 trang
...1536. It thus opens; the hero is supposed to he commencing a relation of the events of his captivity. " My hair is grey, but not with years. Nor grew it white...single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears: My limbs are bowed though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose For they have been a dungeon's...

The Prisoner of Chillon, and Other Poems, Tập 1

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1816 - 88 trang
...none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON. A FABI.E. I. MY hair is grey, but not with years, , Nor grew it white In a single night,2 As men's have grown from sudden fears : My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted...

The Critical Review, Or, Annals of Literature

1816 - 692 trang
...opens; the hero is supposed to be commencing a relation of the events of his captivity. " My liair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, But rusted with a vile repose •. • For they have been a dungeon's spoil, As men's have grown from...

Spirit of the English Magazines, Tập 1

1817 - 506 trang
...strand, Ere I fonoke tbee or thy lov'd command. 90 THE PRISONERS OF CIIILUm. A FABLE. By Lord Burton. MY hair is grey, but not with years. Nor grew it white...single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears : 11 v limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's...

The works of ... lord Byron, Tập 6

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1818 - 210 trang
...none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON. A FABLE. I. MY hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white...single night, * As men's have grown from sudden fears : • a My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been...

The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Prisoner of Chillon. Manfred ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1818 - 216 trang
...none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God. THE PRISONER OF CHILLQN. A FABLE. 1. MY hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, 2 As men's have grown from sudden fears : B3 My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted with...

Lord Byron's Works ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1821 - 478 trang
...— May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON. .1. hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night,1 As men's have grown from sudden fears : My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted...

The Works of Lord Byron: Lara. Siege of Corinth. Parisina. The prisoner of ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1821 - 294 trang
...those marks efface! For they appeal from tyranny to God. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON. I. MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, W As men's have grown from sudden fears: My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, 5 But rusted with...

Select Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: In Two Volumes, Tập 2

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1823 - 310 trang
...those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God. > .- THE PRISONER OF CHILLON. A FABLE. I. My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night,2 As men's have grown from sudden fears : My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted...




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