Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
From the field of his fame fresh and gory;
We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone,
But we left him alone with his glory.
-- Charles Wolfe (1791-1823)
-- The Burial of Sir John Moore
From the field of his fame fresh and gory;
We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone,
But we left him alone with his glory.
-- Charles Wolfe (1791-1823)
-- The Burial of Sir John Moore
Related:
- Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried.
Charles Wolfe (1791-1823) -- The Burial of Sir John... - But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.
Charles Wolfe (1791-1823) -- The Burial of Sir John... - Much to his Mum and Dad's dismay, Horace ate himself one day.
He didn't stop to say his grace, he just sat down and... - The observation of nature is part of an artist's life,
it enlarges his form [and] knowledge, keeps him fresh... - We are not
alone... - We wish that this column, rising towards heaven among the pointed
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From the same category:
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Arthur Schopenhauer (1788... - friction: what often develops among members of an expedition.
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to let her husband work...
