Now strike the golden lyre again: A louder yet, and yet a louder strain ! Break his bands of sleep asunder And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark ! the horrid sound Has raised up his head : As awaked from the dead, And amazed he stares...
The Beauties of Modern Literature, in Verse and Prose: To which is Prefixed ... - Página xviii
por Martin MacDermot - 1824 - 484 páginas
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