 | Edward Douglas Snyder - 1923 - 240 páginas
...amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a griesly band, I see them sit, they linger yet, Avengers of...weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.': II. I 'Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race. Give ample room, and verge... | |
 | Thomas Gray, Samuel Johnson, Oliver Goldsmith - 1926 - 206 páginas
...your dying country's cries — • ' No more I weep. They do not sleep. ' On yonder cliffs, a griesly band, ' I see them sit, they linger yet, ' Avengers...their native land : ' With me in dreadful harmony f they join, ' And § weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.' II. i. " Weave the warp, and... | |
 | William Blake - 1926 - 398 páginas
...just as dull as his adversary's. The Spirits of the murdered bards assist in weaving the deadly woof : With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave, with bloody hands, the tissue of thy line. The connoisseurs and artists who have made objections to Mr B's mode of representing spirits with real... | |
 | Tom Peete Cross, Clement Tyson Goode - 1927 - 1432 páginas
...more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, I see them sit, they linger yet, 45 y pleasure rose; 380 And kissed her thoughtless babes...And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear; Wh n. 1 'Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race. 50 Give ample room, and... | |
 | Richard Green Moulton - 1915 - 550 páginas
...Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, I see them sit, they linger yet, Avengers...And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.' The poem has enlarged the dramatic scene it presents: besides the single Bard and the English army... | |
 | Thomas Humphry Ward - 1885 - 660 páginas
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 | George Benjamin Woods - 1929 - 1488 páginas
[ Lo sentimos, el contenido de esta página está restringido. ] | |
 | Ernest Bernbaum - 1929 - 490 páginas
[ Lo sentimos, el contenido de esta página está restringido. ] | |
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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, a grisly band, I see them sit, they linger yet, Avengers of their native land : With me in dreadful harmony... 
