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" Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While... "
A manual of English literature and of the history of the English language ... - Pagina 494
door George Lillie Craik - 1862 - 544 pagina’s
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The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Volume 201

1905 - 606 pagina’s
...love-poet's most perfect rhythm was mingled with its notes as he listened to the song, — ' Thou wert not born for death, Immortal Bird, No hungry generations tread thee down.' Amongst the ripples of every stream he caught echoes of Wordsworth's river sonnets, and whether alone,...
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The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of ..., Volume 7

1820 - 596 pagina’s
...ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth tby soul abroad In such an 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! ,.„,...
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Spirit of the English Magazines, Volume 10

1821 - 488 pagina’s
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die. To cease upon the midnight with no pain. While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still won lost thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born...
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Time's Telescope for ... ; Or, A Complete Guide to the Almanack

1823 - 400 pagina’s
...mused rhyme, . To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wonldst thou siug, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born...
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The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J ..., Volume 1

Cabinet - 1824 - 440 pagina’s
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, ' While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy ! Still would'st thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod. VII....
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The Every-day Book: Or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports ...

William Hone - 1827 - 858 pagina’s
...cease opon the midnight with no pain, While thou ait pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy 1 Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Г. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...
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The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Volume 2

William Hone - 1830 - 868 pagina’s
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring...ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...
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Abaddon, the Spirit of Destruction: And Other Poems

Sumner Lincoln Fairfield - 1830 - 172 pagina’s
...himself. What can be more distinct, beautiful, and true, than this address to the nightingale : — " Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I heard this passing night, was heard In ancient days, by emperor and clown ; Perhaps the self same song...
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The every-day book and table-book; or, Everlasting calendar of ..., Volume 2

William Hone - 1837 - 936 pagina’s
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring...ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...
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The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Volume 1

William Hone - 1837 - 874 pagina’s
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cfase upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy 1 Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. r. Thou wast...
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