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" Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ; The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's... "
Curiosities of Literature - Strana 460
autor/autoři: Isaac Disraeli - 1807
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The Monthly Mirror: Reflecting Men and Manners: With Strictures ..., Svazek 18

1804
...the year, and out of Heaven's high way:" and Pope, " Far as the solar walk or milky way."— Gray, in his Bard, " Dear as the light that visits these...eyes: Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart." Otway makes Priuli exclaim, to his daughter, that she is "Dear as the vital warmth that feeds my life....
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Remarks critical, conjectural, and explanatory, upon the plays of ..., Svazek 1

E H. Seymour - 1805
...conjunction, and adopt that mode of expression which is called the phraseology of Shakspeares age: " Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, " Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart." Gray. The Bard. 67. " The ass in compound with the major part of your syllables" I suppose there is a quibble...
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Poetical Works

Oliver Goldsmith - 1806 - 72 str.
...sail, ' The famisli'd eaglet screams and passes by. ' Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, * DearJ as the light that visits these sad eyes, * Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, 1 Ye dy'd amidst your dying country's cries...... * Ho more I -weep. They do not sleep; ' On yonder...
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The Works of Thomas Gray: Containing His Poems, and Correspondence ..., Svazek 1

Thomas Gray - 1807
...Snowdou is culled the eagle's nest. That bird is certainly no ' Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, ' Dear, as the light that visits these sad eyes, ' Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, ' Ye died amidst your dying country's cries ' No more I weep. They do not sleep. ' On yonder cliffs,...
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The Muses' Bower,: Embellished with the Beauties of English Poetry, Svazek 1

English poetry - 1809
...ravens sail; ' The famish'd Eagle* screams, and passes by. ' Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, ' Dear, as the light that visits these sad eyes, ' Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, ' Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — ' No more I weep. They do not sleep. ' On yonder cliffs,...
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Elegant Extracts, Svazky 1–2

Vicesimus Knox - 1809
...ravens sail : ' The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. ' Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, ' dogs shall drink him till thcv burst. Old Cotta sham'd h'rs fortune and his birth, Ye mart, ' Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — ' No more 1 weep. They do not sleep. • On yonder...
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Specimens of the British poets, Svazek 2,Díl 1

British poets - 1809
...affrighted ravens sail. The famish'd eagle screams and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the rnddy drops that warm my heart, Ye dy'd amidst your dying country's crie No more I weep. They do not...
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The words of the most favourite pieces, performed at the Glee club ..., Svazek 1

Glee club, Richard Clark - 1814 - 435 str.
...sleeps upon his craggy bed : ' Mountains, ye mourn in vain : ' Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, ' Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, ' Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my "heart, ' Ye died amidst your dying country's cries. ' No more I weep. They do not sleep. ' On yonder cliffs,...
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The Works of Robert Burns: With an Account of His Life, and a ..., Svazek 2

Robert Burns - 1815
...must love, pine, mourn, and adore in seeret ; this you must not deny me : you will ever he to m,:~" Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart !" I hare not patienee to read the puritanie serawl! Vile sophistry! ye heavens ! thou God of nature...
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The prose works of Robert Burns

Robert Burns - 1816 - 705 str.
...love, pine, mourn, and adore in secret — this you must not deny me— you will ever be to me — '' Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, " Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart !" I have not patience to read the puritanic scrawl. — Vile sophistry ! — Ye heavens ! thou God...
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