 | Lyre - 1841 - 366 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... | |
 | 1842 - 538 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... | |
 | Author of Thoughts in suffering - 1842 - 108 páginas
...weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep shall steal on me ; And I might feel, in the warm air, My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Break o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Let the cold despairing tone of these lines witness to... | |
 | Robert Chambers - 1844 - 746 páginas
...weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal now sixte $ 1 A lino seems to have been lost at this place, probably by an oversight of the transcriber. Some might... | |
 | Robert Chambers - 1844 - 738 páginas
...weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal be my happy lot ; But thou mayst grant this humble prayer, Forget 1 A line мен» to have been lost at this place, probably by an oversight of the transcriber. Some... | |
 | Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1845 - 558 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 cold, and hear the eea Ireathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this... | |
 | Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1846 - 540 páginas
...away the life of care 284 285 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... | |
 | Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1847 - 578 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... | |
 | Willis Gaylord Clark - 1847 - 170 páginas
...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... | |
 | Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1849 - 406 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...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... | |
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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... 
