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Libros Libros 111 - 111 de 111 sobre And not a voice was idle ; with the din Smitten, the precipices rang aloud ; The...
" And not a voice was idle ; with the din Smitten, the precipices rang aloud ; The leafless trees and every icy crag Tinkled like iron ; while far distant hills Into the tumult sent an alien sound Of melancholy not unnoticed, while the stars Eastward were... "
The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of Popular ... - Página 99
por William Hone - 1830
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Washing the Brain: Metaphor and Hidden Ideology

Andrew Goatly - 2007 - 431 páginas
...halt. So through the darkness and the cold we flew, And not a voice was idle; with the din Smitten, the precipices rang aloud; The leafless trees and every icy crag Tinkled like iron; and oftentimes, When we had given our bodies to the wind, And all the shadowy banks on either side...
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