 | 1818 - 638 страници
...answer, only as it may be spoken to them by the mournful breezes of the surrounding desolation. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and controul In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes... | |
 | 1818 - 502 страници
...poems from the same source, and which this subject seems so well calculated to have excited. Lxxvin. Oh Rome ! my Country ! City of the Soul ! The Orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes... | |
 | 1818 - 574 страници
...will conclude our extracts ; which, though numerous, will not, we think, be thought too numerous. " Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and controul In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes... | |
 | George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1819 - 466 страници
...without wounding the touch'd heart, Yet fare thee well — upon Socrate's ridge we part. LXXVIII. Oh Rome! my country! city of the soul! The orphans of the heart must, turn to thee," Lone mother of dead empires! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes... | |
 | 1819 - 884 страници
...£efer¿, Ьоф mciüíid; oerfagt er e$ ftd), ben (S'mbrucf weitet ju treibea ali nfc¡i;tg war. ,,Oh Rome! my country! city of the soul! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires I and controul In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woei... | |
 | 1819 - 950 страници
...is a mixture of pathos and sublimity worthy of the subject ; and we cannot give it higher praise. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart nuibtturn to ther, Lone mother of dead em pires! and coutruul lu their shut breasts their petty uiiseiy.... | |
 | Friedrich Johann Jacobsen - 1820 - 796 страници
...Seine Elegie über Rom in dem 4ten Canto von ChiUe Harold ist eine der schönsten, die ich kenne. Oh Rome! my country , city of the soul! The orphans of the heart must turn lt> thee, JLons mother of dead empires ! and control Der Krieger wacht noch eb' der Morgen blinkt.... | |
 | 1821 - 746 страници
...appear, And gathering storms around convulse the closing year. So of Greece : — again of Italy — Oh English Constitution. Let us see. — But these are scenes where Nature's nig. ga Lone mother of dead empires ! and controul In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes... | |
 | George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1821 - 478 страници
...without wounding the touch 'd heart, Yet fare thee well — upon Soracte's ridge we part. LXXVIII. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and controul In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes... | |
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Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod... 
