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" How sleep the Brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung;... "
A History of Eighteenth Century Literature, 1660-1780 - الصفحة 233
بواسطة Edmund Gosse - 1916 - عدد الصفحات: 415
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Blue, Gray and Red: Two Nurse's Views of the Civil War

Louisa May Alcott, Kate Cumming - 2008 - عدد الصفحات: 252
...had died on the roadside, no eye to see them, save the all-seeing eye of Him who never sleepeth. 95 By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung. At a small station called Booneville, below Corinth, were a number of cars filled with wounded, and...
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