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 How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is...  Foliorum silvula, selections for translation into Latin and Greek verse, by ... - Página 54 editado por - 1866 Visualização completa -
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