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" Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear... "
The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley - Página 254
por Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1849
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Volumen94

1824
...dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could He down like a tired child, And weep away the life of...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...
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Spirit of the English Magazines

1824
...surround— Smiling they live and call life pleasure •-— To me that cup has been dealt in another Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and...of care Which I have borne and yet must bear. Till deatb like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the...
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The New Monthly Magazine and Literary Journal, Volumen31

1831
...Dejection near Naples," it would seem as if the poet had a secret presentiment of his own death. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and...cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Alas ! the coming event had indeed cast its shadow before. The fatal catastrophe was...
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Posthumous Poems

Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1824 - 415 páginas
...Smiling they live and call life pleasure;— To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and...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...
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Volumen94

1824
...— Smiling they live and call life pleasure ; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and...might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My check grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament...
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New Monthly Magazine, Volumen12

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...er юемиге. " Yet now despair itself is mild, Even a» the wind» and water» are) I could He down like a tired child, And weep away the life of...feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the »ta Breathe o'er my dying brain its Ust monotony. ' 'Ч "Some might lament tiiai I were cold, As 1,...
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New Monthly Magazine, Volumen12

Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth - 1824
...winds and waters are j I could lie down like a tired child. And weep away the life of care Which I bave borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might...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 sweet...
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Knight's Quarterly Magazine, Volumen3

1824
...; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the load of care Which I have borne and still must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on...My cheek 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...
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Knight's Quarterly Magazine, Volumen3

1824
...surround, Smiling they live, and call life pleasure; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and...could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the load of care Which I have borne and still must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And...
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The New Annual Register, Or General Repository of History, Politics, and ...

1825
...and caUjife;ple^1me.)TTr , V To m«Imb*P*^falt in another measure. i I>TOW?. ' f.^ cm, " Yet " Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and...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...
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