 | George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1837 - 352 стор.
...fare thee well — upon Soracte's ridge we part. Lx xvm. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut hreasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferanee ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl,... | |
 | Rebecca Hey - 1837 - 386 стор.
...touching effect, what mournful grace, does it throw over the architectural remains of ancient Rome ! • " come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples." " Cypress and ivy, weed and wall-flower grown Matted and mass'd together, hillocks heap'd On what were... | |
 | 1871 - 608 стор.
...Alps : — ' Oil Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thce, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. \\hat are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps... | |
 | George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1841 - 998 стор.
...Yet fare thee well — upon Soracte's ridge we part. LXXVUI. Oh Rome! my country! city of the soul! sheen of beauty's cheek, Nor feel the heart can never...rises o'er her steep, nor climb? Harold, once more — Л world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. LXXIX. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands,... | |
 | Ebenezer Bailey - 1841 - 416 стор.
...every comfort which I enjoy. LESSON CXLIV. Rome. — BYRON. O ROME ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother...misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and we The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples ; ye, Whose... | |
 | Joshua Horner - 1841 - 162 стор.
...can refrain from tears P Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must tarn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control...and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owlf and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye Whose agonies are evils of a day,—... | |
 | H. M. Melford - 1841 - 466 стор.
...Glaucns were torn from his clasp. (Bulwer's Last days of Pompeii.) Oh Rome! my country! city of the souli The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires! and control, In their shut breast their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl,... | |
 | George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1842 - 866 стор.
...Yet fare thee well— upon Soracte's ridge we part LXXVin. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! vanish. There are thoughts thou canst not banish ;...alone ; Thou art wrapt as with a shroud, Thou art suflerance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones... | |
 | William Hamilton Maxwell, Hablot Knight Browne - 1842 - 326 стор.
...pride and pomp of human greatness, the fall will only be the more marked and the more miserable. " Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your...and temples, ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day. M The Goth, the Christian, Tune, War, Flood, and Fire, Have dealt upon the seven-hilled city's pride... | |
 | John Hanbury Dwyer - 1843 - 320 стор.
...still loveliest, till— 'tis gone and all is gray. ROME. OH Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother...and temples, Ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day — world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. The Niobe of nations! there she stands, Childless... | |
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Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. 
