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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, While... "
Chambers's Pocket Miscellany - Page 74
1854
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The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Volume 201

1905
...love-poet's most perfect rhythm was mingled with its notes as he listened to the song, — ' Thou wert not born for death, Immortal Bird, No hungry generations tread thee down.' Amongst the ripples of every stream he caught echoes of Wordsworth's river sonnets, and whether alone,...
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The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of ..., Volume 7

1820
...ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While 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 wast not born for death, immortal Bird! ,.„,...
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Spirit of the English Magazines, Volume 10

1821
...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. 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 requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born...
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Time's Telescope for ... ; Or, A Complete Guide to the Almanack

Almanacs, English - 1823
...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, 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 a sod. Thou wast not born...
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The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J ..., Volume 1

Cabinet - Literature - 1824 - 420 pages
...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, ' While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy ! Still would'st thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod. VII....
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The Every-day Book: Or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports ...

William Hone - Calendars - 1827
...cease opon the midnight with no pain, While thou ait pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy 1 Still wouldst thou sing, and I have 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...
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The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Volume 2

William Hone - Days - 1830
...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, While thou art pouring...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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Abaddon, the Spirit of Destruction: And Other Poems

Sumner Lincoln Fairfield - 1830 - 157 pages
...himself. What can be more distinct, beautiful, and true, than this address to the nightingale : — " Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I heard this passing night, was heard In ancient days, by emperor and clown ; Perhaps the self same song...
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Classic Tales: Designed for the Instruction and Amusement of Young Persons

Mythology - 1833 - 163 pages
...Keats's sweet description of this poetic warbler. (Her mother gives her a book, and Ann reads.) " Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry...voice I hear this passing night, was heard In ancient clays, by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self same song that found a path Through the sad heart of...
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The every-day book and table-book; or, Everlasting calendar of ..., Volume 2

William Hone - 1837
...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, While thou art pouring...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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