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Könyvek 165 / 1 - 10. könyv a(z) Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are : I could lie down... kifejezésre.
" Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are : I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My... "
The Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature - 84. oldal
Szerkesztette: - 1854
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, 94. kötet

1824
...weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon...

Spirit of the English Magazines

1824
...weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear. Till deatb like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon...

The New monthly magazine and universal register. [Continued as ..., 31. kötet

...weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Alas ! the coming event had indeed cast its shadow before. The fatal catastrophe was made known to...

Knight's Quarterly Magazine, 3. kötet

1824
...weep away the load of care Which I have borne and still must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament when I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon...

Posthumous Poems

Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1824 - 415 oldal
...weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon...

Knight's Quarterly Magazine, 3. kötet

Charles Knight - 1824
...weep away the load of care Which I have borne and still must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er rny dying brain its last monotony. Sonic might lament when I were cold, As I when this sweet day is...

The New Monthly Magazine, 12. kötet

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...weep away the life of care Which I bave borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me. And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe oVr my dying brain its lust monotony. 44 Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet...

The New Monthly Magazine, 12. kötet

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me. And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the »ta Breathe o'er my dying brain its Ust monotony. ' 'Ч "Some might lament tiiai I were cold, As 1,...

The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, 94. kötet

1824
...and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My check grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which mylost heart, too soon...

The New Annual Register, Or General Repository of History, Politics, and ...

1825
...weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death-like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air . My cheek...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. " Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, r . Which my lost heart, too...




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