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Книги Книги 110 от 180 за BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is....
" BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering on a foreign strand? "
A Narrative of the Sufferings and Adventures of C.H.B.: In a Recent Voyage ... - Страница 214
по Charles H. Barnard - 1836 - 258 страници
Пълен достъп - Информация за книгата

The Lay of the Last Minstrel: A Poem

Sir Walter Scott - 1805 - 319 страници
...with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he...strand ! If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no Minstrel raptures swell; x High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth...

The Monthly anthology, and Boston review

1806
...with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he...strand ! If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as...

The Monthly Mirror: Reflecting Men and Manners: With Strictures on ..., Том 22

1806
...deid, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! \V hose heart hath ne'er with'n him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned,...strand! If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as...

The Monthly Anthology, and Boston Review, Том 3

Samuel Cooper Thacher, David Phineas Adams, William Emerson - 1806
...to himself hath said, This is my own my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, A» home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering...strand ! If such there breathe, go, mark him well ; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth...

Polyanthos, Том 3

1806
...with soul so dead, _ Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land I Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, ' As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ! Tf such there breathe, go mark him well j For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles,,...

Affection: with other poems

Henry Smithers - 1807 - 210 страници
...described patriotic attachment. I. BREATHES there a man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart has ne'er within him burn'd, As home his footsteps he hath turn'd From wandering on a foreign strand ! If such there breathe,...

Essays on Professional Education

Richard Lovell Edgeworth - 1809 - 496 страници
...on youthful sensibility. Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart has ne'er within him burn'd, As home his footsteps he has tum'd, From wand'ring on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe,...

Poems

Richard Polwhele - 1810
...native land ! "Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, " As home his footsteps he hath turned, " Prom wandering on a foreign strand ! " If such there breathe, go mark him well ; " For him no minstrel raptures swell ; " High though his titles, proud his name, " Boundless his...

The Lady's Miscellany, Or, Weekly Visitor, for the Use and Amusement ..., Том 13

1811
...with soul so dead. Who never, to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! XVhose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned. From wand'ring on a foreign strand ! If such there breathe, go mark him well ; For himno minstrel raptures...

The Lay of the Last Minstrel: A Poem

Walter Scott - 1811 - 349 страници
...is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he,hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ! If such there breathe, go, mark him well j For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth...




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