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" But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider, distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail... "
Songs of Three Centuries - Pàgina 125
editat per - 1875 - 352 pàgines
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Hebrew Melodies

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1815 - 324 pàgines
...And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the...tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. VI. And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are...
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Hebrew Melodies

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1815 - 72 pàgines
...'•.' "Vr i '. .; IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride : And the foam of his...turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail ;...
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The works of ... lord Byron, Volum 4

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1815 - 230 pàgines
...ever grew still! IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride: And the foam of his gasping...turf, And cold as. the spray of the rock-beating surf. V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;...
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The works of ... lord Byron, Volum 4

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1816 - 234 pàgines
...heaved, and for ever grew still! IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: And the...turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;...
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The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1817 - 226 pàgines
...heaved, and for ever grew still! IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: • And...turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on hig mail;...
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The Pocket Magazine of Classics and Polite Literature, Volum 2

1818 - 384 pàgines
...his wings on the blast, grew still. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride : And the...there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew ou his brow, and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances...
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The works of ... lord Byron, Volums 3-4

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1818 - 336 pàgines
...heaved, and for ever grew still ! IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril .nil wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride : And the...lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock -beating siuf. .VAnd there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the...
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The New Whig Guide

Henry John Temple Palmerston (Viscount), John Wilson Croker, Robert Peel - 1819 - 258 pàgines
...ever grew still ! IT. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride ; And the foam of his...turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. T. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:...
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Lord Byron's Works ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1821 - 478 pàgines
...heaved, and for ever grew still. IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride : And the...turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail ;...
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The Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine, Volum 42

1819 - 996 pàgines
...heaved, and for ever grew still ! And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: And the...tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. Abruptly, and would not give way, Nor pass, as poor and great went....
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