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" Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to... "
Outline History of English and American Literature - Page 339
by Charles Frederick Johnson - 1900 - 552 pages
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Miscellaneous Poems

Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1826 - 156 pages
...of saddest thou ght. Vet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, .and fear ; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should...Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground * Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, • . • Such harmonious madness From my lips...
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The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in ..., Volume 1

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1829 - 575 pages
...tell of saddest thought. Yet if we coutd scorn Bate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not ylor Belter than all measure* Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy...
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Studies in Poetry: Embracing Notices of the Lives and Writings of the Best ...

George Barrell Cheever - 1830 - 516 pages
...tell the saddest thought. Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear ; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should...Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground \ Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness LEIGH HUNT. TO HIS SON,...
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The three histories

Maria Jane Jewsbury - 1830 - 334 pages
...cannot be, Shadow of annoyance, Never came near thee: Thou lovest, and ne'er knew love's sad satiety. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better...Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground. Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow,...
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The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1831 - 628 pages
...tell of saddest thought _ Yet if we could ecorn Hate, and pride, and fear ; If we were things bom Not read, How calm and sweet the victories of life, How terrorlesfi the triumph of the grave ! arc Ibund, Thy skill to poet were, thou scomer of the ground .' Teach me half the gladness That thy...
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Knowledge for the People ...

John Timbs - 1832 - 442 pages
...a cloud of fire ; The deep blue thou wingest, And singing .still doit soar ami soaring ever nngest. Teach me half the gladness ' ' ' That thy brain must...know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow. ' r The world should listen then, as I am listening now.* * See the ' Beauties of Shelley,' IBmo, 1830....
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The Metropolitan, Volume 14

1835 - 598 pages
...of saddest thought ! Yet if we could scorn, Hate, and pride, and fear ! If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near ?" Of those compositions which are purely descriptive, the well-known stanzas to the " Medusa of Leonardo...
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Beauties of the Country: Or, Descriptions of Rural Customs, Objects, Scenery ...

Thomas Miller - 1837 - 466 pages
...of saddest thought ! Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear— If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near !' " By the middle of this month we shall lose sight entirely of that most airy, active, and indefatigable...
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The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to Bayly

Samuel Carter Hall - 1838 - 348 pages
...tell of saddest thought. Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear ; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should...Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground ! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness, From my lips would...
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The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1838 - 634 pages
...tell of saddest thought. Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear ; If we were things bom Mot to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should...That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scomer of the ground ! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness...
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