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" And weep away the life 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 the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. "
The Knickerbocker: Or, New-York Monthly Magazine - Pàgina 544
editat per - 1855
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Volum 94

1824
...in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this...Shall on its stainless glory set, Will linger, though enjoy 'd, like joy in memory yet. The following lines also appear to us extremely beautiful, though,...
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Spirit of the English Magazines

1824
...in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this...for I am one Whom men love not, — and yet regret, Ualike this day, which, when the sun Shall on its stainless glory set, Will linger, tho1 enjoy'd, like...
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New Monthly Magazine, Volum 12

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe oVr my dying brain its lust monotony. 44 Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this...They might lament — for I am one Whom men love not, — und yet regret. Unlike this day, which, when the sun Shall on its stainless glory set, Will linger,...
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Knight's Quarterly Magazine, Volum 3

1824
...cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament when I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which...one Whom men love not, — and yet regret, Unlike tius day, which, when the sun Shall on its stainless glory set, Will linger, though enjoyed, like joy...
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Posthumous Poems

Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1824 - 415 pàgines
...in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this...grown old, Insults with this untimely moan; They might lament—for I am one Whom men love not,—and yet regret, Unlike this day, which, when the sun Shall...
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Knight's Quarterly Magazine, Volum 3

1824
...grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er rny dying brain its last monotony. Sonic might lament when I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which...with this untimely moan ; They might lament, — for 1 am onr, Whom men love not, — and yet regret, Unlike this day, which, when the sun Shall on its...
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New Monthly Magazine, Volum 12

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...when lliis swcei day is gone, .., . н , Which my lost heart, too »oon grown ojd, Insults with i Ы . untimely moan ; They might lament— for I am one...yet regret«, , ,] Unlike this day, which, when the sua Shall on its stainless glory »et, Will linger, though enjoy'd, like joy in memory yet." We have...
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Volum 94

1824
...in the warm air My check grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which mylost heart, too soon grown old, Insults with this untimely moan ; They might lament,— for I am...
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The New Annual Register, Or General Repository of History, Politics, and ...

1825
...the warm air . My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. " Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, r . Which my lost heart, too soon grown old, Insults with this untimely moan ; They might lament —...
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Miscellaneous Poems

Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1826 - 144 pàgines
...in the warm air My cheek, grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon%rown oUl, Insults with this untimely moan ; They might lament — for I am one Whom men love not,...
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