 | Ernest Charles Jones - 1860 - 246 стор.
...fly, I was struck by an ambushed knave, And here in the pride of my strength I lie, Like the corse of a rebel brave. With a deathless scorn in my dying breath ; In my hand the sword still cherished ; " EEBELLION ! " still for my shout of death, In my manhood untainted I perished. O ! gladly, full... | |
 | 1883 - 410 стор.
...did fly, I was struck by an ambushed knave ; But still in the pride of my strength I lie, The corse of a rebel brave. With a deathless scorn in my dying breath, In my hand the sword still cherished, " Rel>ellion " still for my shout of death, In my manhood untainted I perish. Oh ! gladly, full gladly... | |
 | John Spargo - 1912 - 438 стор.
...by an ambushed knave ; And here in the pride of my strength I lie, Like the corse of a rebel brave 1 With a deathless scorn in my dying breath, In my hand...of death, In my manhood, untainted, I perished. Oh 1 gladly, full gladly, the Pruss and the Czar But Germany sends me, with Hungary far, Three salvoes... | |
 | 1912 - 800 стор.
...of the French Revolution became the heritage of the forties, and Marx's soul lived on it lavishly. With a deathless scorn in my dying breath, In my hand...still cherished ; " Rebellion " still for my shout of death.1 Translate these lines of Freiligrath into better prose and one has Marx's valedictory. No matter... | |
 | 1925 - 298 стор.
...did fly, I was struck by an ambushed knave ; But still in the pride of my strength I lie, The corse of a rebel brave. With a deathless scorn in my dying...still for my shout of death, In my manhood untainted I perish. Oh ! gladly, full gladly the Pruss and the Czar The grass from my grave would clear ; But Germany... | |
 | Roberto Marchionatti - 1998 - 320 стор.
...of the French Revolution became the heritage of the forties, and Marx's soul lived on it lavishly. With a deathless scorn in my dying breath, In my hand...still cherished; "Rebellion" still for my shout of death.34" Translate these lines of Freiligrath into better prose and one has Marx's valedictory. No... | |
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No open blow in an open fight, But with quips and with quirks they arraign me, By creeping treachery's secret blight The Western Calmucks have slain me. The fatal shaft in the dark did fly; I was struck by an ambushed knave; And here in the pride of my... 