 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 cheek...  Spirit of the English Magazines - Pàgina 4801824Visualització completa - Sobre aquest llibre
 | Willis Gaylord Clark - 1847 - 170 pàgines
...a tried child, And weep away this life of care, Which I have borne and still must bear, Till denth, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel, in...the warm air, My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Brenthe o'er my dying brain its last monotony." Shelley. 'T is a spring hour : the silvery green Of... | |
 | Thomas Medwin - 1847 - 408 pàgines
...like a tired child, And weep away this 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 heart grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my outworn brain its last monotony." The line stands... | |
 | Caroline Matilda Kirkland - 1848 - 668 pàgines
...sadness, hat of that sort of sadness, he nays: •• Some might lament that I were cold, Afl I when thifl sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon grown old, Insnlts with its nntimely moan ; They might lament, for 1 am one Whom men love not, and yet regret,... | |
 | Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1849 - 406 pàgines
...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...and hear the sea [Breathe o'er my dying brain its lost monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost... | |
 | Edward Shepherd Creasy - 1850 - 532 pàgines
...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...old, Insults with this untimely moan ; They might lamant — for I am one Whom men lore not, — and yet regret, Unlike this day, which, when the sun... | |
 | 1835 - 606 pàgines
...Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might fefl in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony ! And the second is beaded " Mutability," a beautiful little piece. Shelley has been called an atheist:... | |
 | Edward Shepherd Creasy - 1850 - 528 pàgines
...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 cheek grow cold, and hoar the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As... | |
 | Daniel Scrymgeour - 1850 - 596 pàgines
...like a tired ehild, And weep away the life of eare Whieh I have borne, and yet mnst bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My eheek grow eold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament... | |
 | James Anthony Froude, John Tulloch - 1853 - 770 pàgines
...weep away this life of care, Which I have borne and still must bear, Till death like sleep might seize on me, And I might feel in the warm air, My cheek...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony !' . . . Too beautiful to laugh at, however empty and sentimental. True ; but why beautiful? Because... | |
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