...a tried child, And weep away this life of care, Which I have borne and still must bear, Till denth, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel, in...the warm air, My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Brenthe o'er my dying brain its last monotony." Shelley. 'T is a spring hour : the silvery green Of...

...in another measure. Ifct now despair itself is mild, "* » Even as the winds and waters are ; " ** I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away...and hear the sea [Breathe o'er my dying brain its lost monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost...

...with and Humour 'da little, to keep it quiet, till it falls* asleep, and then the Care is over." " I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away...must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me." JWW BEALE : BAILLIE : BALIOL : BAILLEUL. — One fact may establish a theory. The fact is, that in...

...care, Which I nave borne and still must bear, Till death like Bleep should steal on mo ; And I could feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the Eea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony,' our respected contemporary bowed down his face...

...has been dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away...hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart,...

...dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lio down like a tired child, And weep away the life of...might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hoar the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As...

...is mild, Even as the winds and waters are : I could lie down like a tir'd child, And weep away this life of care, Which I have borne, and yet must bear,...death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might fefl in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony...

...eonld lie down like a tired ehild, And weep away the life of eare Whieh I have borne, and yet mnst bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My eheek grow eold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament...

...has been dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; as born — The mountain Dryad» seized with joy, i The smiling infant to t hare borne, and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm...

...grief, Whicn finds no natural outlet, no relief, In word, or sigh, or tear; or when Shelley murmured — I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of eure, Which I nave borne, and still must bear; or, finally, when Byron speaks of his mood of feeling,...