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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]. - 第 153 頁
George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) 著 - 1832
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Briefe an eine deutsche Edelfrau über die neuesten englischen Dichter

Friedrich Johann Jacobsen - 1820 - 741 頁
...schleppt der Welt zcrriss'ne Fessel mit. — 662 • jfo their shut breasts their petty misery* fVhat are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress...hear the owl , and plod your way O'er steps of broken tltrones and temples , Ye .' JJ'Jiose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile...
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The London Magazine, 第 3 卷

1821
...of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and controul t be dispensed with ; and, with their naked names...ever. Stripped of all that is imaginative in them, th U at our feet as fragile as our clay. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownlcss,...
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Lord Byron's Works ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1821
...empires ! and controul In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and suilerance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your...is at our feet as fragile as our clay. LXXIX. The Kiobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn within...
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Urania: Taschenbuch auf das jahr 1810-1848

1822
...of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, bone mother of dead empires ! and controul In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are...our woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, bear the owl , and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples , ye ! Whose agonies are...
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The works of the rt. hon. lord Byron, 第 1 卷

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1824
...their shut hreasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferanee ? Come and see Whose agonics are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. LXXIX. The Niohe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and erownless, in her voiceless wo ; An empty urn within...
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Lord Byron, 第 1 卷

Louise Swanton-Belloc - 1824
...Harold , lorsque la princesse Charlotte mourut. Elle était l'espoir de l'Angleterre : elle anWhose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. 79. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands , Childless and erownless , in her voiceless woe; An einpty...
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The North American Review, 第 21 卷

1825
...striking passages. 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. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless wo ; An empty urn...
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The complete works of lord Byron with a biogr. and critical notice ..., 第 1-2 卷

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1825
...we part. LXXV1II. 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...misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and sec The cypress, hear the owl, aud plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye! Whose...
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The Congregational magazine [formerly The London Christian instructor]., 第 1 卷

...how perishing are the mightiest monuments of man's boasting pride ! Tnink — — — " As you j>lod your way, O'er steps of broken thrones and temples,...Whose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at your feet, as fragile as your clay." You never so fully realize the impression that you are in ancient...
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Childe Harold's pilgrimage, a romaunt

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1826
...orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and controul In their shut breast their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance...stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woes^ An empty urn within her withered hands, Whose holy dust was scatter'd long ago; The Scipio's...
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