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" 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... "
Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature - Página 84
editado por - 1854
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Miscellaneous Poems

Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1826 - 144 páginas
...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, Which my lost heart, too soon%rown...
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The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volume 1

Alaric Alexander Watts - 1828
...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 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...
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The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry

Alaric Alexander Watts - 1828 - 395 páginas
...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 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...
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The Poetical Album: And Register of Modern Fugitive Poetry, Volume 1

Alaric Alexander Watts - 1828
...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 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...
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Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of ..., Volume 1

Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 513 páginas
...life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And 1 might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. " Some might lament that I were cold, As I when this sweet day is done, Which my lost heart, too soon...
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Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of ..., Volume 1

Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 494 páginas
...u-eep 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 tea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. "Some might lament that I were cold, As I when this...
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The American Monthly Magazine, Volume 1

1829
...And weep away the life of care Which I have born and yet must bear, Till death-like sloop 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...
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The American Monthly Magazine, Volume 1

1829
...And weep away the life of care Which I have born 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...
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The Lyre: Fugitive Poetry of the Xixth Century

Lyre - 1830 - 360 páginas
...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...
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The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1831 - 607 páginas
...weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal ceive but what we give, And in our lifo alone does...SIBYLLINE LEAVES. Out« a her wedding-garment, cure her Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon...
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