AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers... Readings from Milton - Стр. 306авторы: John Milton - 1886 - Страниц: 308Полный просмотр - Подробнее о книге
| Derek Attridge - 1995 - Страниц: 300
...syllables are expected in order to fix our attention on the horror of the events he is describing: (9) Forget not : in thy book record their groans Who were...Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. If we rewrite these lines so that "Slain" and "Mother" fall in the expected... | |
| William Riley Parker - 1996 - Страниц: 708
...Lord, Thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold — Even them who kept Thy truth so pure of old When all our fathers...Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To heaven. Their... | |
| Stephen Adams - 1997 - Страниц: 260
...Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold, Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old When all our fathers...Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heaven. Their... | |
| Carter Revard - 1998 - Страниц: 232
[ Извините, доступ к содержанию этой страницы ограничен. ] | |
| John Milton - 1999 - Страниц: 1024
[ Извините, доступ к содержанию этой страницы ограничен. ] | |
| Earl R. Anderson - 1998 - Страниц: 408
[ Извините, доступ к содержанию этой страницы ограничен. ] | |
| Dennis Danielson - 1999 - Страниц: 320
[ Извините, доступ к содержанию этой страницы ограничен. ] | |
| Dennis Danielson - 1999 - Страниц: 320
...Lord thy slaughtered Saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold, Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old When all our fathers...Forget not: in thy book record their groans Who were tby sheep and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that rolled Mother with infant... | |
| |