Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the queen-moon is on her throne, Cluster'd... The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of The Scots ... - Página 315 1820 Vista completa -
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