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µµ¼­ But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping...¿¡ ´ëÇØ °Ë»öÇÑ
" But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail:... "
The Works of Lord Byron: Manfred. Hebrew melodies. Ode to Napoleon ... - 112 ÆäÀÌÁö
ÀúÀÚ: George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1821
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Hebrew Melodies

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1815 - 72 ÆäÀÌÁö
...hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still ! 1 s .' 1' . - * '/..?.• -1; ! '•.' "Vr i '. .; IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,...turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail ;...
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The works of ... lord Byron, 4±Ç

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1816 - 234 ÆäÀÌÁö
...the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as...
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The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1817 - 226 ÆäÀÌÁö
...the sleepers waxed deadly and chill. And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: • And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold...
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The Pocket Magazine of Classics and Polite Literature, 2±Ç

1818 - 384 ÆäÀÌÁö
...the morrow lay withered and strown. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, grew still. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride : And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as...
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The New Whig Guide

Henry John Temple Palmerston (Viscount), John Wilson Croker, Robert Peel - 1819 - 258 ÆäÀÌÁö
...the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heav'd, and for ever grew still ! IT. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,...turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. T. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:...
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Literary Gazette and Journal of Belles Lettres, Arts, Sciences, Etc, 3±Ç

William Jerdan, William Ring Workman, Frederick Arnold, John Morley, Charles Wycliffe Goodwin - 1819 - 860 ÆäÀÌÁö
...bcav'd, and for ere; grew still ! And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide But throngh'it there roll'd not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf And cokl as the spray of the rock -beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted find pale, ' With the...
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Methodist Magazine and Quarterly Review

1819 - 494 ÆäÀÌÁö
...of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still ! And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled nut the hreath of Ml pride: And the foam of his gasping lay white on the 110% And cold as the...
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Lord Byron's Works ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1821 - 478 ÆäÀÌÁö
...the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still. IV. And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride : And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as...
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The Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine, 42±Ç

1819 - 996 ÆäÀÌÁö
...of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still ! And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as...
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The Brighton gleaner; or, General repository of literary selections ..., 1±Ç

1822 - 494 ÆäÀÌÁö
...and for ever grew still ! And there lie the steed, with his nostrils all wide — But through them there roll'd not the breath of his pride ; And the foam of his gasping lie white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beaten surf. And there lie the rider, distorted...
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