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" Darkling I listen ; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain,... "
The Library of Poetry and Song - Pągina 317
editat per - 1925 - 1100 pągines
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The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Volum 34

1820 - 646 pągines
...spectre-thin, and dies ; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow \nd leaden-eyed despairs. The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days...found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic...
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Volum 86

1820 - 606 pągines
...breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy...! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song...
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The Indicator, Volum 1

Leigh Hunt - 1820 - 432 pągines
...sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days...found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, siek for Imme, Ste ttood in tears amid the alien corn ; The sume that oft-times hath Charm'd magic...
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The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of ..., Volum 7

1820 - 596 pągines
...thou art pouring forth tby soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have eats in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou...' No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I heat this passing night, was heard In ancient days by ēmperor and clow» : Perhaps the self-same...
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Spirit of the English Magazines, Volum 10

1821 - 488 pągines
...midnight with no pain. While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still won lost thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high...born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations teead thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown...
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Time's Telescope for ... ; Or, A Complete Guide to the Almanack

1823 - 400 pągines
...no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wonldst thou siug, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become...No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song...
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The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J. Aitken]., Volum 1

Cabinet - 1824 - 440 pągines
...VII. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night, was heard In ancient days...found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic...
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The Every-day Book: Or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports ...

William Hone - 1827 - 858 pągines
...ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Г. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charmed magic...
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Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of ..., Volum 1

Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 512 pągines
...breath. Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy...No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song...
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The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Volum 2

William Hone - 1830 - 868 pągines
...breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy...ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...
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