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Teokset Teokset 1 - 10 / 165 haulle Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down....
" Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek... "
The Metropolitan - Sivu 65
1835
Koko teos - Tietoja tästä teoksesta

Spirit of the English Magazines

1824
...tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear. Till deatb like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon...

The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Nide 94

1824
...tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon...

The New monthly magazine and universal register. [Continued as] The ..., Nide 31

...child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Alas ! the coming event had indeed cast its shadow before. The fatal catastrophe was made known to...

Posthumous Poems

Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1824 - 415 sivua
...tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon...

Knight's Quarterly Magazine, Nide 3

1824
...child, And weep away the load of care Which I have borne and still must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament when I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon...

Knight's Quarterly Magazine, Nide 3

Charles Knight - 1824
...child, And weep away the load of care Which I have borne and still must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air...My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er rny dying brain its last monotony. Sonic might lament when I were cold, As I when this sweet day is...

The New Monthly Magazine, Nide 12

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...tired child. And weep away the life of care Which I bave borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me. And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe oVr my dying brain its lust monotony. 44 Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet...

The New Monthly Magazine, Nide 12

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me. And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the »ta Breathe o'er my dying brain its Ust monotony. ' 'Ч "Some might lament tiiai I were cold, As 1,...

The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Nide 94

1824
...tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My check grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament...

The New Annual Register, Or General Repository of History, Politics, and ...

1825
...tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death-like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air...sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. " Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, r . Which my lost heart, too...




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