. A selection from the works of Lord Byron. gasp of breath,Blaspheme and groan ?No; let me die, as I have lived, in faith,Nor quiver, though the universe may quake ! Chorus of Mortals. Where shall we fly ?Not to the mountains high ;For now their torrents rush, with double roar,To meet the ocean, which, advancing still,Already grasps each drowning hill,Nor leaves an unsearchd cave. Enter a Woman. Woman. Oh, save me, save !Our valley is no more : My father and my fathers tent,My brethren and my brethrens herds, The pleasant trees that oer our noonday bent,And sent forth evening songs from sweete
. A selection from the works of Lord Byron. gasp of breath,Blaspheme and groan ?No; let me die, as I have lived, in faith,Nor quiver, though the universe may quake ! Chorus of Mortals. Where shall we fly ?Not to the mountains high ;For now their torrents rush, with double roar,To meet the ocean, which, advancing still,Already grasps each drowning hill,Nor leaves an unsearchd cave. Enter a Woman. Woman. Oh, save me, save !Our valley is no more : My father and my fathers tent,My brethren and my brethrens herds, The pleasant trees that oer our noonday bent,And sent forth evening songs from sweetest birds,The little rivulet which freshend all 2l8 HEAVEN AND EARTH. Our pastures green,No more are to be to the mountain cliff I climbd this morn, I turnd to bless the spot,And not a leaf appeard about to fall;— And now they are not!Why was I born ? Japh. To die ! in youth to die ! And happier in that doom,Than to behold the universal tomb, Which IAm thus condemnd to weep above in , when all perish, why must I remain ?.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860, bookpublisherlondo, bookyear1866
