 | Andrew Fuller - 1825 - 480 sayfa
...were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that roll' J Mother and infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To heaven. Their martyr M blood and ashes sow O'er all tli' Italian fields, where still doth sway A triple tyrant ;... | |
 | William Stephen Gilly - 1826 - 450 sayfa
...record their groans, Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piemontese, that roll'd Mother with infant down the rocks. Their...To Heaven. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow O'er ail the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple tyrant ; that from these may grow An hundred... | |
 | William Gifford, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, John Gibson Lockhart, Whitwell Elwin, William Macpherson, William Smith, Sir John Murray IV, Rowland Edmund Prothero (Baron Ernle) - 1826 - 624 sayfa
...book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piemontese, that roll'd Mother with infant down the rocks ! Their...they To heaven. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow O'ef O'er all the Italian Ik-Ids, where still doth sway The tripled tyrant: that from these may grow... | |
 | John Milton - 1826 - 312 sayfa
...old, When all our fathers worshipt stocks and stones, Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that roll'd Mother...moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow O'er all th' Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple... | |
 | 1826 - 626 sayfa
...book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piemontese, that roll'd Mother with infant down the rocks ! Their...moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To hca.veu. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow O'er O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway... | |
 | John Barclay (of Calcots.) - 1826 - 184 sayfa
...Avenge, O Lord, thy SLAUGHTER'D saints, whose bones Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold — Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that roll'd Mother with infant down the rocks. Milton, Sonnet on the Massacre in Piedmont, 1655. The Trojan chiefs behold, with rage and grief, Their... | |
 | William Gifford, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, John Gibson Lockhart, Whitwell Elwin, William Macpherson, William Smith, Sir John Murray (IV), Rowland Edmund Prothero (Baron Ernle) - 1828 - 626 sayfa
...called), of our great poet, writ on a similar massacre of the original stock ? ' O Lord, their martyred blood and ashes sow O'er all the Italian fields, where...that from these may grow A hundred fold, who, having learned thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe!' The protestants who survived were, for the most... | |
 | 1828 - 598 sayfa
...called), of our great poet, writ on a similar massacre of the original stock ? ' O Lord, their martyred blood and ashes sow O'er all the Italian fields, where...that from these may grow A hundred fold, who, having learned thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe!' The protestants who survived were, for the most... | |
 | William Gifford, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, John Gibson Lockhart, Whitwell Elwin, William Macpherson, William Smith, Sir John Murray (IV), Rowland Edmund Prothero (Baron Ernle) - 1828 - 608 sayfa
...of our great poet, writ on a similar massacre of the original stock ? ' O Lord, their martyred blond and ashes sow O'er all the Italian "fields, where...that from these may grow A hundred fold, who, having learned thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe!' The protestants who survived were, for the most... | |
 | John Warner Barber - 1828 - 188 sayfa
...and stones Forget not ; in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that roll'd Mother...down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to hills, and they To heaven, their maityr'd blood aud ashes sow O'er all th' Italian fields, where still... | |
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When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not : in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled... 
