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" Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring,... "
Selections from the British Poets - Страница 167
написао/ла Fitz-Greene Halleck - 1840
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The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to Bayly

Samuel Carter Hall - 1838
...ashes uphraid him ; — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done,...not a stone, — But left him alone with his glory. IK I had thought thou couldst have died, I might not weep for thee ; But I forgot, when hy thy side,...
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The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to Bayly

Samuel Carter Hall - 1838
...ashes upbraid him ; — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done,...not a stone, — But left him alone with his glory. IK I had thought thou couldst have died, I might not weep for thee ; But 1 forgot, when by thy side,...
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The poetic reciter; or, Beauties of the British poets: adapted for reading ...

Henry Marlen - 1838
...ashes upbraid him, — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done,...of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, we raised not a stone — But we left him alone with his glory. THE CHAMELEON. OFT has it been my lot...
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The Rhetorical Reader: Consisting of Instructions for Regulating the Voice ...

Ebenezer Porter - 1838 - 304 страница
...sleep on In 'the grave where a Briton has laid him." 7 But half of our heavy task was done, 8 ( j; ) Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory! We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But left him — alone with his glory! Wolfe. EXERCISE 30. Eve lamenting the...
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The National Preceptor: Or, Selections in Prose and Poetry; Consisting of ...

Jesse Olney - 1838 - 336 страница
...hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun, That the foe was suddenly firing — 8. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But we left him — alone with his glory I LESSON XCVI. Boadicea* — COWPER....
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The London Saturday journal, Томови 1-4

1841
...sorrow, But we Btedfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow. • * • Slowly and sadly we laid him down From the field of...carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory ! FATAL SENSIBILITY. A TALE OF THE AFFECTIONS. FOUNDED ON FACT. CHARLES...
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The juvenaile poetical library; selected from the works of modern British ...

Priscilla Maden Watts - 1839
...tolled the hour for retiring ; And we heard by the distant and random gun, That the foe was suddenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the...of his fame fresh and gory : We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory. HOME. I KNEW my father's chimney top,...
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The Rhetorical Reader Consisting of Instructions for Regulating the Voice ...

Ebenezer Porter - 1839
...let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him." 7 But half of our heavy task was done, g) Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory! We carved not a lme, we raised not a stone, But left him — alone with his glory! Wolfe. EXERCISE 30. Eve lamenting...
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Arundines Cami; sive, Musarum Cantabrigiensium lusus canori, collegit atque ...

Cam river - 1841
...where a Briton has laid him. But half of our dreary task was done, When the clock told the hour of retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun,...of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But we left him alone in his glory. WOLFE. HEY MY CHICKEN. HEY my chicken, my...
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The Lyre: Fugitive Poetry of the Nineteenth Century

Lyre - 1841 - 344 страница
...done, When the clock told the hour for retiring ; Aud we heard the distant and random gun Of the enemy sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down,...carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory. THE WAR OF THE LEAGUE. BY THOMAS MACAULEY. Now glory to the Lord...
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