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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... "
The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of Popular ... - Page 249
de William Hone - 1837
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Volume 86

1820 - 606 pages
...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 wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast...
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Spirit of the English Magazines, Volume 10

1821 - 488 pages
...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...
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Time's Telescope for ... ; Or, A Complete Guide to the Almanack

1823 - 400 pages
...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...
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The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J ..., Volume 1

Cabinet - 1824 - 440 pages
...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 pages
...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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Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of ..., Volume 1

Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 512 pages
...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 wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast...
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The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Volume 2

William Hone - 1830 - 868 pages
...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 wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast...
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The Harp of the Wilderness; Or, Flowers of Modern Fugitive Poetry

Harp - 1836 - 380 pages
...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 wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast...
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Beauties of the Country: Or, Descriptions of Rural Customs, Objects, Scenery ...

Thomas Miller - 1837 - 466 pages
...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 wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast...
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The every-day book and table-book; or, Everlasting calendar of ..., Volume 2

William Hone - 1837 - 936 pages
...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 wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast...
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