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" Rome ! my country ! city of the soul! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your... "
Childe Harold's pilgrimage, The giaour, The siege of Corinth [and other poems]. - Página 153
por George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1832
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Finden's Illustrations of the Life and Works of Lord Byron: With ..., Volumen2

William Brockedon - 1833
...sueh a birth ! Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay." Childe Harold, canto iv. st 152 and 78. THIS fine view of Rome, taken from above the Porta di Santo...
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The Religious Magazine, Volumen1

1833
...Oh, Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mi-Hi 1 ' of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts...— A world is at our feet, as fragile as our clay. " The Niobe of nations ! There she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless wo ; An empty...
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Wanderings by the Seine

Leitch Ritchie - 1834 - 256 páginas
...that enchant, Refinement•s self is seen in TANKEBVILLE." CHAPTER IV. THE WANDERER•S REVERIE. " Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O•er steps of broken thrones and temples ! * * * » * Cypress and ivy, weed and wall-flower, grown, Matted, and massed together, hillocks heaped...
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The Works of George Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, Volumen8

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1836
...part. LXXVIII. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. LXXVI. LXXIX. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Q) Childless and crownless, in her voiceless...
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, Volumen1

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1837 - 329 páginas
...part. LXXVIII. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. I 1 [Lord Byron's prepossession against Horace is not without a parallel. It was not till released...
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The complete works of lord Byron, repr. from the last London ed ..., Volumen1

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1837
...thee. Lone mother of dead empires! and control Tn their shut breasts their putty misery. Л¥Ьа1 are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress,...as our clay. LXXIX. The Niobe of nations! there she stands,(1) Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe; An empty urn within her wither'd hands, Whose...
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The complete works of lord Byron, repr. from the last London ed ..., Volumen1

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1837
...we part. LXXVIII. Oh Rome! my country! city of the soul! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their...and temples, Ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day — Л world is at our feet as fragile as oar clay. LXXIX. The Niobe of nations! there she stands,(l)...
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Childe Harold's pilgrimage, a romaunt

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1837
...woes and sufferanee ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of hroken thrones and temples, Ye ! Whose agonies are evils...a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our elay. Lxxvl. LxxIx. The Niohe of nations ! there she stands, l Childless and crownless, in her voiceless...
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The spirit of the woods, by the author of 'The moral of flowers'.

Rebecca Hey - 1837
...touching effect, what mournful grace, does it throw over the architectural remains of ancient Rome ! • " come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples." " Cypress and ivy, weed and wall-flower grown Matted and mass'd together, hillocks heap'd On what were...
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The Quarterly Review, Volumen131

1871
...to thce, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. \\hat are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress,...your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye I "Whose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. ***** ' Arches...
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