 | 1964 - Страниц: 422
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 | 1882 - Страниц: 622
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 | Vicesimus Knox - 1825 - Страниц: 404
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 | 1826 - Страниц: 638
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 | Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1829 - Страниц: 575
...falling like its own ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal lone. feet, • By niv mother's soul do I entreat That thou this woman send away !• She ml : and more sh thought* over the universe Like wither d leaves, to quicken a new birth ! Aud, by the incanlaltOB of... | |
 | Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1831 - Страниц: 628
...chain'd and bow'd One too like thee : tameless, and swift, and proud. V. SHELLEY'S POETICAL WORKS. withcr'd leaves, to quicken я new birth! And, by the incantation of this vene, Scatter, as from an... | |
 | Thomas Miller - 1837 - Страниц: 466
...me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its own ! The tumult of the mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep autumnal...one ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like wither'd leaves to quicken a new birth." " There is in the grey and sober tinting of an evening in... | |
 | Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1838 - Страниц: 634
...: j What if my leaves are falling like its own! | The tumuli of thy mighty harmonies 457 Will lake from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet, though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My ipiril ! Be thou me, impetuous one .' Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like wither'd leaves,... | |
 | Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1839 - Страниц: 408
...swift, and proud. Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its own ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from...autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fieree, My spirit ! Be thou me, impetuous one ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered... | |
 | Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1840 - Страниц: 396
...swift, and proud. Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its owu ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from...though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit ! lie thou me, impetuous oue ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken... | |
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Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is; What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive... 
