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Könyvek 165 / 1 - 10. könyv a(z) God said, I am tired of kings, I suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning brings... kifejezésre.
" God said, I am tired of kings, I suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor. Think ye I made this ball A field of havoc and war, Where tyrants great and tyrants small Might harry the weak and poor ? My angel, — his... "
Poems - 175. oldal
szerző: Ralph Waldo Emerson - 1883 - 315 oldal
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Living Age ..., 76. kötet

1863
...am tired of kings, I suffer them no more ; Tip to my car the morning brings The outrage of the poor. Think ye I made this ball A field of havoc and war, , Where tyrants great and tyrants small Might In i ! y the weak and poor '. My angel — his name is Freedom, Choose him to he your king ; Hi- shall...

Proceedings of the Pennsylvania Yearly Meeting of Progressive Friends

Pennsylvania Yearly Meeting of Progressive Friends (1853-1940) - 1891
...said, I am tired of kings, I suffer them no more; Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor. ***** My angel — his name is Freedom — Choose...pathways east and west And fend you with his wing. ***** I will have never a noble, No lineage counted great; Fishers and choppers and ploughmen Shall...

The Atlantic Monthly, 11. kötet

1863
...am tired of kings, I suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor. Think ye I made this ball A field of havoc and war,...of old time in the West, As the sculptor uncovers his statue, When he has wrought his best. I show Columbia, of the rocks Which dip their foot in the...

The Popular lecturer [afterw.] Pitman's Popular lecturer (and ..., 7-9. kötet

Henry Pitman - 1863
...suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning bring* The outrage of the poor. Think ye I made this hall A field of havoc and war, Where tyrants great and...Might harry the weak and poor ? My angel — his name i* Freedom — Choose him to be your king ; He shall cut pathways east and west, And fend you with...

The Living Age ..., 76. kötet

1863
...ye I made this ball A field of havoc und war, Where tyrants great nnd tyrants small Might" harrf tho weak and poor ? . My angel — his name is Freedom, Choose him to he your king ; lb; shall cut pathways east nnd west. And fend you with his wing. Lo ! I uncover the...

Lyrics of loyalty, arranged and edited by F. Moore

Frank Moore - 1864
...tired of Kings, I suffer them no more ; ., Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor. Think ye I made this ball A field of havoc and war,...of old time in the West, As the sculptor uncovers his statue, When he has wrought his best. I show Columbia, of the rocks Which dip their foot in the...

Lyrics of Loyalty

Frank Moore - 1864 - 336 oldal
...am tired of Kings, I suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor. Think ye I made this ball A field of havoc and war,...of old time in the West, As the sculptor uncovers his statue, When he has wrought his best. I show Columbia, of the rocks Which dip their foot in the...

Lyrics of loyalty, arranged and edited by F. Moore

Frank Moore - 1864
...am tired of Kings, I suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor. Think ye I made this ball A field of havoc and war,...pathways east and west, And fend you with his wing. _ Lo ! I uncover the land Which I hid of old time in the West, As the sculptor uncovers his statue,...

Poetry, Lyrical, Narrative and Satirical, of the Civil War

Richard Grant White - 1866 - 334 oldal
...am tired of Kings, I suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor. Think ye I made this ball A field of havoc and war,...Freedom, — Choose him to be your king ; He shall eut pathways east and west, And fend you with his wing. Lo ! I uncover the land Which I hid of old...

Poetry, Lyrical, Narrative and Satirical, of the Civil War

Richard Grant White - 1866 - 334 oldal
...am tired of Kings, I suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor. Think ye I made this ball A field of havoc and war, 140 Where tyrants great and tyrants small Might harry the weak and poor ? My angi'l, — his name is...




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