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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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Portfolio of an Artist

Rembrandt Peale - 1839 - 263 páginas
...covert. Blair. ROME. O ROME ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphan 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. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands Childless and crownless, in her voiceless wo — * * * * *...
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The Idler in Italy, Volumen2

Marguerite Countess of Blessington - 1839
...inmate. 6th.—" Oh, Rome! my country! city of the soul! The orphans of the heart must turn tothee, Lone mother of dead empires! and control In their...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay." These beautiful lines embody the sentiment, with which every feeling mind must contemplate Rome; I...
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The idler in Italy, Volumen2

Marguerite Gardiner (countess of Blessington.) - 1839
...uth. — « Oh, Rome ! my country ! city of the soul f 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." These beautiful lines embody the sentiment, with which every feeling mind must contemplate Rome. I...
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Southern Literary Messenger, Volumen5

1839
...dungeon ! 1839.] THE PILGRIM AMID THE RUINS OF ROME. BY JOHN C. M'CABE. "Come and see The cyprès», he« the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones...evils of a day — A world is at our feet, as fragile aa our clay. Childe Harald. 1 am no longer now the artless child, Plucking wild flowers, singing boyhood's...
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The Complete Works of Lord Byron: Reprinted from the Last London Edition ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1841 - 935 páginas
...we part. LXXVUI. Oh Rome! my country! city of the soul! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, can never all grow old ? Who ran contemplate Fame...rises o'er her steep, nor climb? Harold, once more — Л world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. LXXIX. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands,...
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Synonymisches Handwörterbuch der englischen Sprache für die Deutschen

H. M. Melford - 1841 - 448 páginas
...orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires! and control, In their shut breast their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance?...— A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. (Byron's Don Juan.) I. To DOUBT, 2. QUESTION. 1. S3e5nmfeln , in S^eifeí äicl;en; 2. bfjtretfcln,...
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Letters from an Artist, Sojourning on the Continent

Joshua Horner - 1841 - 142 páginas
...from tears P Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must tarn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control , In their...and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owlf and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye Whose agonies are evils of a day,—...
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The Young Ladies' Class Book: A Selection of Lessons for Reading, in Prose ...

Ebenezer Bailey - 1841 - 408 páginas
...Rome. — BYRON. O 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...misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and we The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples ; ye, Whose...
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Rambling Recollections of a Soldier of Fortune

William Hamilton Maxwell, Hablot Knight Browne - 1842 - 296 páginas
...pride and pomp of human greatness, the fall will only be the more marked and the more miserable. " Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your...and temples, ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day. M The Goth, the Christian, Tune, War, Flood, and Fire, Have dealt upon the seven-hilled city's pride...
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The works of lord Byron, with notes by T. Moore [and others].

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1842
...part LXXVin. Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, nish ; By a power to thee unknown, Thou canst never...alone ; Thou art wrapt as with a shroud, Thou art suflerance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones...
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