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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 Poetical Works of Howitt, Milman, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Mary Botham Howitt - English poetry - 1847 - 221 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...ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in rain — To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast not bom for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry...
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Beauties of the British Poets ...

George Croly - English poetry - 1850 - 395 pages
...To cease upon rtie midnight witli no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such.au ecstasy ! Still would'st thou sing, and I have ears...born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations trend thee down ; The voice I hour this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown...
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Imagination and Fancy: Or, Selections from the English Poets, Illustrative ...

Leigh Hunt - English poetry - 1851 - 255 pages
...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—...become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! JVo hungry generations tread thee down : The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient...
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Chambers's pocket miscellany, Volumes 4-6

Chambers W. and R., ltd - 1852
...for many a time I have been half in love with easeful death, Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now...sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem beeome a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ;...
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Recollections of a Literary Life: Or, Books, Places and People

Mary Russell Mitford - American literature - 1852 - 558 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 ecstasy 1 Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain, — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast...
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Euthanasy: Or, Happy Talk Towards the End of Life

William Mountford - Death - 1852 - 511 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 ecstasy. He died where there are more nightingales than there are here ; and we will hope he felt at the last...
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Hausschatz englischer Poesie: Auswahl aus den Werken der bedeutendsten ...

Oskar Ludwig Bernhard Wolff - English poetry - 1852 - 399 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 wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou...
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Lotos-eating: a Summer Book

George William Curtis - Atlantic States - 1852 - 192 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 wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem a sod." So sang Keats...
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Lotus-eating: a Summer Book

George William Curtis - Atlantic States - 1852 - 206 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 wouldst thou sing and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod. So sang...
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Beautiful poetry, selected by the ed. of The Critic, Volume 1

Beautiful poetry - 1853
...the air my quiet breath — Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight tcilh no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad...have ears in vain, To thy high requiem become a sod. And that remembrance leads him to compare his lot with the nightingtle's. That self-same tune had been...
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