| 422 páginas
...inglorious Milton here may reft, Some Cromwell, guiltlefs of his country's blood. Th' applaufe of lift'ning fenates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to...fcatter plenty o'er a fmiling land , And read their hift'ry in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbad: nor circumfcrlb'd alone Their growing virtues, but their... | |
| British poetical miscellany - 1800 - 276 páginas
...inglorious Milton here may reft, Some Cromwell, guiltlefs of his country's blood. Th' applaufe of lift'ning fenates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to...fcatter plenty o'er a fmiling land, And read their hift'ry in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbade ; nor circumfcrib'd alone Their growing virtues, but... | |
| 196 páginas
...o'er a smiling land, And read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbad : nor circumscrib'd alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd ; Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth... | |
| George Sampson - 1931 - 264 páginas
...o'er a smiling land, And read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbad: nor circumscrib'd alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd ; Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth... | |
| Thomas Gray - 1921 - 80 páginas
...o'er a smiling land, And read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbad : nor circumscrib'd alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd; Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth... | |
| 1792 - 656 páginas
...Milton here may reft, [try's blood. Some Cromwell giiiltleis of his conn 47° Th' applaufe of lift'ning fenates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to defpife, To Clatter plenty o'er a frr.iling land, And rcail their hill'ry in .•. nation's eyes, Their lot forbad... | |
| 320 páginas
...o'er a smiling land, And read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbad: nor circumscrib'd alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd; Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth... | |
| |