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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,... "
The Library of Poetry and Song - Pagina 317
geredigeerd door - 1925 - 1100 pagina’s
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The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Volume 34

1820
...spectre-thin, and dies ; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow \nd leaden-eyed despairs. The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days...found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic...
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Volume 86

1820
...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...! 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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The Indicator, Volume 1

Leigh Hunt - 1820
...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...found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, siek for Imme, Ste ttood in tears amid the alien corn ; The sume that oft-times hath Charm'd magic...
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The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of ..., Volume 7

1820
...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...' 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...
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Spirit of the English Magazines, Volume 10

1821
...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...born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations teead thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown...
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Time's Telescope for ... ; Or, A Complete Guide to the Almanack

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

Cabinet - 1824 - 420 pagina’s
...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...found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic...
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The Every-day Book: Or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports ...

William Hone - 1827
...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...found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charmed magic...
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Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of ..., Volume 1

Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 494 pagina’s
...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...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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The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Volume 2

William Hone - 1830
...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...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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