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" MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears. My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate... "
The Irish Quarterly Review - 第 839 頁
1857
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Choice Readings for Public and Private Entertainment: Arranged for the ...

Robert McLean Cumnock - 1882 - 426 頁
...don't feel a day older, Jack, not a day. ALICE OAKY. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON. MY hair is gray, but not with years; Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears: My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's...
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Relfe brothers' model reading-books, in prose and verse, ed., with ..., 第 5 卷

Richard Fletcher Charles - 1882
...obstructions of no ordinary kind. S. Smiles. . XXVI. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON.1 MY hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears : My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's2...
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Studies in English Literature: Being Typical Selections of British and ...

William Swinton - 1882 - 638 頁
...termed Byronic ; but it well illustrates the poet's vigor and concentration.] I. My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears ; NOTES. — Line 4. As men's, etc. Byron appends this note: "Ludovico Sforza and others. The same...
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The Household Book of Poetry

Charles Anderson Dana - 1882 - 862 頁
...Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God. My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears ; My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose ; For they have been a dungeon's...
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Everyday Classics: Primer-eighth Reader, 第 8 冊

Franklin Thomas Baker, Ashley Horace Thorndike - 1918
...which the poet is working through his beautiful art. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON I My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears: 5 My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's...
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The Home Book of Verse: American and English, 1580-1918

1918 - 4009 頁
...Bonnivard! — May none those marks efface! For they appeal from tyranny to God. My hair is gray, but did wrang to thine or thee. A BALLAD OF THE FRENCH FLEET [OCTOBER 15, 1746] MR. THOMAS PRIN My limbs are bowed, though not with toil. But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's...
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One Hundred Narrative Poems

George E. Teter - 1918 - 436 頁
...how It steals the time ! To business now. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON 1 LORD BYRON My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears; My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's...
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The Principles of English Versification

Paull Franklin Baum - 1922 - 215 頁
...occasionally in Christabel, and Byron at the beginning of The Prisoner of Chillon: My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears. Heroic Couplet. The 5-stress line, both rimed and unrimed, is the most flexible and best adapted to...
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English Poetry of the Nineteenth Century: A Connected Representation of ...

George Roy Elliott, Norman Foerster - 1923 - 825 頁
...For they appeal from tyranny to .God. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON A FABLE (1816) I My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears; My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, S But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's...
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A Book of British and American Verse

Henry Van Dyke, Hardin Craig, Asa Don Dickinson - 1922 - 1908 頁
...That were not born to die. " 18.15. Fitc-Grccne Halltck. THE PRISONER OF CHILLON MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night. As men's have grown from sudden fears ; My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's...
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