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Книги Книги 110 от 153 за Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down;....
" Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick... "
Abaddon, the Spirit of Destruction: And Other Poems - Страница 147
по Sumner Lincoln Fairfield - 1830 - 157 страници
Пълен достъп - Информация за книгата

The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of The Scots ...

1820
...ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have eats in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! ,.„, ' No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I heat this passing night, was heard In ancient days by çmperor and clow» : Perhaps the self-same song...

The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Том 86

1820
...ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song...

The Indicator, Том 1

Leigh Hunt - 1820
...Still wonltlit thou sing, and I have ears in vain-— . i <. ' To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : . Perhaps the self-same song...

Time's Telescope for ... ; Or, A Complete Guide to the Almanack

1823
...ecstasy ! Still wonldst thou siug, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song...

The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J. Aitken].

Cabinet - 1824
...ecstacy ! Still would'st thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod. VII. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night, was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song...

Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of the ..., Том 1

Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 440 страници
...ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song...

Classic tales: designed for the instruction and amusement of young persons

Eliza Robbins, Cairns Collection of American Women Writers - 1833 - 163 страници
...Keats's sweet description of this poetic warbler. (Her mother gives her a book, and Ann reads.) " Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night, was heard In ancient clays, by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self same song...

The harp of the wilderness; or, Flowers of modern fugitive poetry

Harp - 1836
...ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song...

Beauties of the Country: Or, Descriptions of Rural Customs, Objects, Scenery ...

Thomas Miller - 1837 - 425 страници
...ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down : The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown ; Perhaps the self-same song...

The moral and intellectual school book

William Martin - 18?? - 348 страници
...ecstacy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song...




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