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" And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine? "
The Stanley tales, original and select - Strona 175
autor: Ambrose Marten - 1826
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The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Tom 196

1902 - Liczba stron: 642
...nations ; — all were his ! He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set where were they ? ' And where are they, and where art thou, My country...is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more ! ' It is a far cry in this region of poetry from Lord Byron to Mr. Alfred Austin. Altogether in civilised...
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Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Tom 10

1821 - Liczba stron: 778
...nations ;— all were his ! He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set where were they ? " And where are they ? and where art thou, My country?...is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine ? " 'Tis something, in the dearth...
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Don Juan: Cantos III, IV, and V.

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1821 - Liczba stron: 232
...by thousands, lay below, And men in nations ;— all were his ! He counted them at break of day — And where are they ? and where art thou, My country...is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine ? 'Tis something, in the dearth...
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Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Tom 10

1821 - Liczba stron: 800
...break of day — And when the sun set where were they? " And where are they ? and where art tliou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine ? " 'Tis something, in the dearth...
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Tom 88

1821 - Liczba stron: 676
...« quenco of our own Plato himself, and who is a Greek in feeling, if not in country, And where ore they? And where art thou, My country ? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is túneles« now, The heroic bosom beats no more ! Must rcc but weep o'er days more blest ? Must we but...
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Don Juan. Cantos i. to v. [by lord Byron].

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1823 - Liczba stron: 258
...day — And when the sun set, where were they ? And where are they 1 and where art them, My country 1 On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine. Degenerate into hands like mine ? 'Tis something, in the dearth...
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The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J. Aitken]., Tom 1

Cabinet - 1824 - Liczba stron: 440
...nations ; all were his ! He counted them at break of day— And when the sun set where were they ? And where are they ? and where art thou, My country...is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine ? 'Tis something in the dearth...
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The Beauties of Byron,: Consisting of Selections from His Works

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron, Alfred Howard - 1824 - Liczba stron: 226
...nations ; — all were his ! He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set where were they ? And where are they ! and where art thou, My country...is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyie, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine ? 'Tis something, in the dearth...
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The Oxford entertaining miscellany, or, weekly magazine

1824 - Liczba stron: 56
...nations ; — all were his ! He counted them at break of day — ' Aud when the bun set where were they? And where are they ! and where art thou, My country...shore The heroic lay is tuneless now— The heroic boiom beats no more ! And nnisi the lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine ! Tic something...
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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Tom 3

1824 - Liczba stron: 452
...at break of day — And when the sun set where were they ? And where are they ? and where art tliou, My country ? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now— The heroic bosom beats no more . And must thy lyre, so long divine. Degenerate into hands like mine ? 'Tis something in the dearth...
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