Ode to a Nightingale MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk... An Anthology of English Verse - Side 171af John Drinkwater - 1924 - 368 siderFuld visning - Om denne bog
| 1821 - 488 sider
...malignity ! oDE To THE NIGHTINGALE. My heart aches, and a drowiy numbness paini My sense, as thongh of hemlock I had drunk, or emptied some dull opiate...one minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk . Tis not throngh envy of thy happy lot. But being too happy in thy happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad... | |
| Vicesimus Knox - 1825 - 404 sider
[ Denne sides indhold er desværre begrænset. ] | |
| 1826 - 638 sider
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| William Hone - 1826 - 876 sider
[ Denne sides indhold er desværre begrænset. ] | |
| John Keats - 1926 - 738 sider
[ Denne sides indhold er desværre begrænset. ] | |
| William Hone - 1827 - 892 sider
...— gleaning parting looks towards the quiet landscape he had delighted in — musing, аз in his Ode to a Nightingale. My heart aches, and a drowsy...the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : Tie not through envy of thy happy lot. But being too happy in thine happine«, — That thou, light-winged... | |
| William Hone - 1827 - 452 sider
...handkerchief,— gleaning parting looks towards the quiet landscape he had delighted in — musing, as in his Ode to a Nightingale. My heart aches, and a drowsy...to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sank : 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot. Bat being too happy in thiae happiness, — That thou,... | |
| William Hone - 1827 - 394 sider
...emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : 'Tis not thronph envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine...beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer iO full-throated ease. O, for a draught of vintage 1 that hath been Cool'da long age in the deep-delved... | |
| Leigh Hunt - 1828 - 500 sider
...composed by him while he lay sleepless and suffering under the illness which he felt to be mortal. ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE. My heart aches, and a drowsy...happiness, That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In most melodious plot Of beechen green and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated case.... | |
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