 When thy soft round form was lying On the bed where thou wert sighing, I could not believe thee dying, Till thy angel-soul had fled ; For no sickness gave me warning, Rosy health thy cheeks adorning — Till that hope-destroying morning, When my precious...  Kentuckians in History and Literature - Seite 164von John Wilson Townsend - 1907 - 189 SeitenVollansicht - Über dieses Buch
 | 1846 - 524 Seiten
...child lay cold and dead ! Now thy white shroud covers slightly Those pale limbs, so smooth and sightly, While thy snow-white arms lie lightly On thy soul-abandoned...As the dark blood faintly lingers In thy pale, cold lily-fingers, Thou, the sweetest of Heav'n's singers ! Just above thy heart at rest ! Yes, thy sportive... | |
 | 1846 - 508 Seiten
...child lay cold and dead. Now thy white shroud covers slightly Those pale limbs so smooth and sightly, While thy snow-white arms lie lightly On thy soul-abandoned...As the dark blood faintly lingers In thy pale, cold lily-fingers, Thou, the sweetest of Heav'n's singers ! Just above thy heart at rest ! Yes, thy sportive... | |
 | Edgar Allan Poe - 1902 - 364 Seiten
...health thy cheeks adorning — Till that hope-destroying morning, When my precious child lay dead ! Now, thy white shroud covers slightly Thy pale limbs,...of Heaven's singers ! Just above thy heart at rest ! Yes, thy sprightly form is crowded In thy coffin, all enshrouded, Like the young Moon, half enclouded,... | |
 | Edgar Allan Poe - 1902 - 706 Seiten
...health thy cheeks adorning — Till that hope-destroying morning, When my precious child lay dead ! Now, thy white shroud covers slightly Thy pale limbs,...of Heaven's singers ! Just above thy heart at rest ! Yes, thy sprightly form is crowded In thy coffin, all enshrouded, Like the young Moon, half enclouded,... | |
 | Edwin Anderson Alderman, Joel Chandler Harris, Charles W. Kent - 1909 - 522 Seiten
...health thy cheeks adorning — Till that hope-destroying morning, When my precious child lay dead! Now, thy white shroud covers slightly Thy pale limbs,...of Heaven's singers! Just above thy heart at rest ! Yes, thy sprightly form is crowded In thy coffin, all enshrouded, Like the young Moon, half enclouded,... | |
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