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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? "
Poetry of Byron: Chosen and Arranged - Page 66
by George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1892 - 276 pages
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The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Volume 196

1902 - 642 pages
...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, Volume 10

1821 - 800 pages
...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...? " 'Tis something, in the dearth of fame, Though Hnk'd among a fetter'd race, To feel at least a patriot's shame, Even as I sing, suffuse my face ;...
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The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Volume 88

1821 - 676 pages
...« 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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The Babbler; or, Weekly literary and scientific intelligencer, Volume 1

1822 - 440 pages
...heroi« lay is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more I And must thy lyre, so longdivine. Degenerate into hands like mine ? 'Tis something:, in the dearth of fame, Though liuk'd among: a fettered laoe, To feel at least a patriot's shame, Even as I sing, suffuse my face...
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Don Juan. Cantos i. to v. [by lord Byron].

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1823 - 258 pages
...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...mine ? 'Tis something, in the dearth of fame. Though Imk'il among a fetter'd race, To feel at least a patriot's shame. Even as I sing, suffuse my face ;...
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The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J ..., Volume 1

Cabinet - 1824 - 440 pages
...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...mine ? 'Tis something in the dearth of fame, Though link d among a fettered race, To feel at least a patriot's shame, Even as I sing, suffuse my face ;...
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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Volume 3

1824 - 452 pages
...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...like mine ? 'Tis something in the dearth of fame, Thongh liuk'd among a fetter'd race, To feel at least a patriot's shame, Even as I sing, suifuse my...
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The Beauties of Byron,: Consisting of Selections from His Works

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron, Alfred Howard - 1824 - 226 pages
...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...— The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyie, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine ? 'Tis something, in the dearth of fame, Though...
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The Oxford entertaining miscellany, or, weekly magazine

1824 - 56 pages
...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 Oxford Entertaining Miscellany, Or, Weekly Magazine ..., Volume 1

1824 - 312 pages
...were his t He counted Iherti at break of day — And when the SUB set where, were they? And where arc they ! and where art thou, My country ? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuueless now— The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must the lyre, BO long- divine, ^Degenerate into...
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