 Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek...  Literary Leaves - Сторінка 93автори: David Lester Richardson - 1840Повний перегляд - Докладніше про цю книгу
 | 1824 - 798 стор.
...bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon... | |
 | 1824 - 984 стор.
...bear. Till deatb like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon... | |
 | 1831
...bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Alas ! the coming event had indeed cast its shadow before. The fatal catastrophe was made known to... | |
 | 1824 - 488 стор.
...bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament when I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon... | |
 | Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1824 - 440 стор.
...bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon... | |
 | 1825 - 828 стор.
...bear, Till death-like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air . My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. " Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, r . Which my lost heart, too... | |
 | Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1826 - 156 стор.
...bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek, grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon%rown... | |
 | Alaric Alexander Watts - 1828 - 430 стор.
...bear. Till death, like sleep, might steal on me. And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon... | |
 | Alaric Alexander Watts - 1828 - 498 стор.
...bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon... | |
 | Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 500 стор.
...bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And 1 might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. " Some might lament that I were cold, As I when this sweet day is done, Which my lost heart, too soon... | |
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