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ブックス Bozzaris ! with the storied brave, Greece nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee... の書籍検索結果
" Bozzaris ! with the storied brave, Greece nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee — there is no prouder grave, Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, Like torn branch from death's leafless... "
The New-York Review, and Atheneum Magazine - 74 ページ
編集 - 1825
全文表示 - この書籍について

Specimens of American Poetry: With Critical and Biographical Notices ..., 第 3 巻

Samuel Kettell - 1829 - 432 ページ
...with the storied brave Greece nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee—there is no prouder grave, Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, Like torn...death's leafless tree, In sorrow's pomp and pageantry, Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, The heartless luxury of the tomb :....

The Lyre: Fugitive Poetry of the Xixth Century

Lyre - 1830 - 396 ページ
...nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee — there is no prouder grave, Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, A torn branch from death's leafless tree, In sorrow's pomp and pageantry, The heartless luxury of the...

The Cambridge Book of Poetry and Song

Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - 1022 ページ
...nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee — there is no prouder grave, Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark...one Long loved and for a season gone. For thee her poets' lyre is wreathed. Her marble wrought, her music breathed : For thee she rings the birthday bells...

The Lyre: Fugitive Poetry of the Nineteenth Century

Lyre - 1841 - 366 ページ
...nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee— there is no prouder grave, Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, A torn branch from death's leafless tree, In sorrow's pomp and pageantry, The heartless luxury of the...

The Lyre: Fugitive Poetry of the Nineteenth Century

Lyre - 1841 - 374 ページ
...nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee— there is no prouder grave, Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, A torn branch from death's leafless tree, In sorrow's pomp and pageantry, The heartless luxury of the...

A System of Elocution: With Special Reference to Gesture, to the Treatment ...

Andrew Comstock - 1841 - 410 ページ
...in Aer glo'ry's time, | Rest, thee — | 2there is no prouder grave, Even in Aer own proud clime,. | She wore no funeral weeds for thee', | Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume , LiAe torn branch from death's leafless tree,, | In sorrow's pomp, and pa'geantry, | The heartless...

Travels in Europe and the East

Valentine Mott - 1842 - 468 ページ
...Greece nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee ; there is no prouder grave Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark...pomp and pageantry. The heartless luxury of the tomb. * Probably Mr. Stephens and party ; as Mr. S., we find, in his tour in the East, speaks of a visit...

The Southern literary messenger, 第 8 巻

1842 - 818 ページ
...honors to the hero's memory. It contains four lines which grate on our feelings very harshly, viz : " She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark...and pageantry, The heartless luxury of the tomb." Our taste recoils at this image, stretched to its utmost : read the passage omitting these lines, and...

Travels in Europe and the East: Embracing Observations Made During a Tour ...

Valentine Mott - 1842 - 490 ページ
...Greece nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee ; there is no prouder grave Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark...plume, Like torn branch from Death's leafless tree, 1n sorrow's pomp and pageantry, The heartless luxury of the tomb. * Probabfy Mr. Stephens and party...

Travels in Europe and the East: Embracing Observations Made During a Tour ...

Valentine Mott - 1842 - 504 ページ
...Greece nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee ; there is no prouder grave Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, Like lorn branch from Death's leafless tree, ID sorrow's pomp and pageantry, The heartless luxury of the...




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