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" 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... "
The Poets of the Nineteenth Century - Стр. 130
редактор(ы): - 1857 - Страниц: 397
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Том 94

1824
...fame, nor pow'r, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround,— Smiling they live and call life pleasure ; To me that cup has been dealt...is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could He down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till...
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Spirit of the English Magazines

1824
...Nor fane, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround— Smiling they live and call life pleasure •-— To me that cup has been dealt in another Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child,...
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The New monthly magazine and universal register. [Continued as] The ..., Том 31

...in Dejection near Naples," it would seem as if the poet had a secret presentiment of his own death. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds...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...
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Posthumous Poems

Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1824 - Страниц: 415
...fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround — Smiling they live and call life pleasure ; — To me that cup has been dealt...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...
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Том 94

1824
...fame, nor pow'r, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround, — Smiling they live and call life pleasure ; To me that cup has been dealt...bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My check grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last...
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Theatrum Poetarum Anglicanorum: Containing Brief Characters of the English ...

Edward Phillips, Sir Egerton Brydges - 1824 - Страниц: 205
...crown'd -— Nor fame , nor power , nor love , nor leisure : Others I see whom these surround , — Yet now despair itself is mild , Even as the winds...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...
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Knight's Quarterly Magazine, Том 3

Charles Knight - 1824
...Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure, Others I see whom these surround, Smiling they live, and call life pleasure; To me that cup has been dealt...could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the load of care Which I have borne and still must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And...
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The New Monthly Magazine, Том 12

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...er юемиге. " Yet now despair itself is mild, Even a» the wind» and water» are) I could He down like a tired child, And weep away the life of...bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me. And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the »ta Breathe o'er my dying brain its...
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The New Monthly Magazine, Том 12

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...whom these surround — Smiling they live and call life pleasure ; — To me that cup has beendealt in another measure. " Yet now despair Itself is mild. Even as the winds and waters are j I could lie down like a tired child. And weep away the life of care Which I bave borne and yet must...
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The New Annual Register, Or General Repository of History, Politics, and ...

1825
...live and caUjife;ple^1me.)TTr , V To m«Imb*P*^falt in another measure. i I>TOW?. ' f.^ cm, " Yet " Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds...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 grow cold, and hear...
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