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" Tartars seize their destin'd prey. In vain with love our bosoms glow: Can all our tears, can all our sighs, New lustre to those charms impart? Can cheeks, where living roses blow, Where nature spreads her richest dyes, Require the borrow'd gloss of art? "
The Literary Magazine, and American Register - Страница 423
под редакцията на - 1805
Пълен достъп - Информация за книгата

Burton's Gentleman's Magazine and American Monthly Review, Том 1

William Evans Burton, Edgar Allan Poe - 1837 - 460 страници
...Rocnabad, Л bower so sweet as Mosellay. O! when these fair perfidious maids, Whose eyes our sicret haunts infest, Their dear destructive charms display,...robs my wounded soul of rest, As Tartars seize their desliu'd prey. In vain with love our bosoms glow : Can all our tears, can all our sighs, New lustre...

Gentleman's Magazine, Том 1

1837 - 450 страници
...clear as Roenahad, A hower so sweet as Mosellay. 0! when these fair perfidious maids. Whose eyes our secret haunts infest, Their dear destructive charms display. Each glance my tender hreast invades, And rohs my wounded soul of rest, As Tartars seize their destiu'tl prey. In vain with...

The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Том 3

William Hone - 1838 - 890 страници
...clear at Rocnabad, A bow«r so sweet as Moeellay. O ! when these fair, perfidious maids. Whose eyes our secret haunts infest, Their dear destructive charms...;— Each glance my tender breast invades, And robs in y wonnded soul of rest ; As Tartars seiie their de*tin'd prey* In vain with lore oar bosoms glow...

Selections from the British Poets, Том 2

1840 - 368 страници
...clear as Rocnabad, A bower so sweet as Mosellay. Oh ! when these fair perfidious maids, Whose eyes our secret haunts infest, Their dear destructive charms...robs my wounded soul of rest, As Tartars seize their destined prey. In vain with love our bosoms glow : Can all our tears, can all our sighs, New lustre...

Selections from the British Poets, Том 2

1840 - 378 страници
...glance my tender breast invades, And robs my wounded soul of rest, As Tartars seize their destined prey. In vain with love our bosoms glow : Can all...can all our sighs, New lustre to those charms impart T Can cheeks, where living roses blow, Where nature spreads her richest dyes, Require the borrow'd...

The Every-day Book and Table Book; Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Том 3

William Hone - 1841 - 894 страници
...clear м Rocnabad, A bower so sweet as Mosellay. 0 1 when these fair, perfidious maids. Whose eyes our secret haunts infest, Their dear destructive charms...robs my wounded soul of rest ; As Tartars seize their de*tin'd prey. Tn vain with love our bosoms glow • Can all our tears, can all our sighs, New lustre...

Selections from the British Poets: From Beattie to Campbell

1843 - 368 страници
...sweet as Mosellay. Oh ! when these fair perfidious maids, Whose eyes our secret haunts infest, Theit; dear destructive charms display ; Each glance my tender...robs my wounded soul of rest, As Tartars seize their destined prey. In vain with love our bosoms glow : Can j.11 our tears, can all our sighs, New lustre...

The oriental rambler, or, The papers of Polyphilus

Polyphilus (pseud.) - 1844 - 268 страници
...clear as Rocnabad, A bow'r so sweet as Mosellay. Oh! when these fair, perfidious maids, "Whose eyes our secret haunts infest, Their dear destructive charms...can all our sighs New lustre to those charms impart ? Can cheeks where living roses blow, Where nature spreads her richest dies, Require the borrow'd gloss...

Cyclopædia of English Literature: A History, Critical and ..., Том 2

Robert Chambers - 1844 - 738 страници
...as Rocnabad, A bower so sweet as Mosellay. ( ) ! when these fair perfidious rnaids, Whose eyes our destined prey. In vain with love our bosoms glow : Can all our tears, can all our sighs, New lustre...

Cyclopædia of English literature, Том 2

Robert Chambers - 1844 - 746 страници
...perfidious maids, Whose eyes our secret haunts infest, Their dear destructive charms display, Kach dly converse, which sends us to bed at eleven ; but these sober hours are too often inter destined prey. In vain with love onr bosoms glow : Can all our tears, can all our sighs, New lustre...




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