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" Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While... "
The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of Popular ... - Page 253
by William Hone - 1837
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The National Review, Volume 3

Richard Holt Hutton, Walter Bagehot - 1856
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath . Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod." In such an ecstasy....
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The Poetical Works of John Keats

John Keats - 1856 - 256 pages
...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high reoniiem become a sod. 7Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee...
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The Poets of the Nineteenth Century, Volume 1808

Robert Aris Willmott - American poetry - 1857 - 397 pages
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vainTo thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born...
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Recollections of a Literary Life, Or, Books, Places, and People, Volume 2

Mary Russell Mitford - American literature - 1857
...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain, — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear...
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The Poets of the Nineteenth Century, Volume 1808

Robert Aris Willmott - American poetry - 1857 - 398 pages
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such au eestasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high requiem become a sod....
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Select specimens of the English poets, ed. by A. De Vere

Aubrey Thomas De Vere - 1858
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath — Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain, To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not...
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The Poets of the Nineteenth Century

Robert Aris Willmott, Evert Augustus Duyckinck - American poetry - 1858 - 397 pages
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring "forth thy soul abroad In such an eestasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast...
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The every-day book: or The guide to the year, Volume 2

William Hone - 1859
...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain —...death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice 1 hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and cluwn : Perhaps...
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The Poetical Works of John Keats: With a Life

John Keats - 1859 - 438 pages
...mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; !Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem be'come a sod. Thou...
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Works, Volume 2

Leigh Hunt - English literature - 1859
...rhyme To late into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon tho midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an cestacy 1 Still wonldst thoa sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou...
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