 Which like a pestilence sweeps the lower sky, Dreaded by every orb and planet nigh. This hath my father heard. Oh ! Marcian, He is a worldly and a cruel man, And made me once a victim ; but again It shall not be. I have had too much of pain, Too much...  The Spirit of the Old Dominion - Side 92af Stephen T. Mitchell - 1827 - 293 siderFuld visning - Om denne bog
 | 1820 - 596 sider
...shall not be. I have liad too much of pain, r_July Too much for such short hours as life affords, And I would fain from out the golden hoards Of joy, pluck...some fair ornament, at last, To gild my life with— but my life hath past." Her head sank on her bosom : gently he Kissed off the big bright tears of misery.... | |
 | Barry Cornwall - 1820 - 214 sider
...again It shall not be. I have had too much of pain, Too much for such short hours as life affords, And I would fain from out the golden hoards Of joy, pluck...some fair ornament, at last, To gild my life with — but my life hath past." Her head sank on her bosom : gently he Kissed off the big bright tears... | |
 | 1820 - 870 sider
...again It shall not be. I have had too much of pain, Too much for such short hours as life affords, And I would fain from out the golden hoards Of joy, pluck...some fair ornament, at last, To gild my life with — but my life hath past." Her head sank on her bosom : gently he Kissed off the big bright tears... | |
 | Ralph Griffiths, George Edward Griffiths - 1820 - 574 sider
...man, It shall not be. I have had too much of pain, Too much for such short hours as life affords, And I would fain, from out the golden hoards Of joy, pluck...some fair ornament, at last, To gild my life with — but my life hath past." . Alas ! that ever such glittering drops should flow (Bright as though... | |
 | Barry Cornwall - 1822 - 222 sider
...again It shall not be. I have had too much of pain, Too much for such short hours as life affords, And I would fain from out the golden hoards Of joy, pluck...Some fair ornament, at last, To gild my life with — but my life hath past." Her head sank on her bosom : gently he Kissed off the big bright tears... | |
 | 1820 - 782 sider
...again It shall not be. I have had too much of pain, Too much for such short hours as life affords, And I would fain from out the golden hoards Of joy, pluck...some fair ornament, at last, To gild my life with — but my life hath past." Her head sank -on her bosom : gently he Kissed off the big bright tears... | |
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