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" Like brutes within an iron den ; But what were these to us or him? These wasted not his heart or limb ; My brother's soul was of that mould Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side; But... "
The works of the rt. hon. lord Byron - Page 180
by George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1824
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English Poetry: Volume 2

1910 - 524 pages
...limb; My brother's soul was of that mould Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side. But...dying hand — nor dead, — Though hard I strove, but strove in vain To rend and gnash my bonds in twain. He died, — and they unlock'd his chain, And...
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The English Parnassus: An Anthology, Chiefly of Longer Poems

William Macneile Dixon - 1911 - 792 pages
...brother's soul was of that mould 140 Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side ; But...dying hand — nor dead, — Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, To rend and gnash my bonds in twain. He died, and they unlock' d his chain, And...
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Selections from Byron: Childe Harold, Canto IV, The Prisoner of Chillon ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1911 - 252 pages
...brother's soul was of that mould 140 VII Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side ; But...dying hand — nor dead, — Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, To rend and gnash my bonds in twain. He died — and they unlocked his chain, And...
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Best Things from Best Authors...

1911 - 612 pages
...; My brother's soul was of that mould Which in a palace had growu cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side. But...I saw, and could not hold his head, Nor reach his (.lying hand — nor dead, Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, To rend and gnash my bonds in...
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Poems, Narrative and Lyrical: Required for College Entrance

Robert Porter St. John - 1911 - 268 pages
...brother's soul was of that mould 140 Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side; But...? — he died. I saw, and could not hold his head, 145 Nor reach his dying hand — nor dead, — Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, To rend and...
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Byron's Childe Harold (canto IV): Prisoner of Chillon and Other Selections

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1911 - 184 pages
...My brother's soul was of that mold 140 Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side; But...truth? — he died. I saw, and could not hold his head, 145 Nor reach his dying hand— nor dead, — Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, To rend and...
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The English Parnassus: An Anthology Chiefly of Longer Poems

William Macneile Dixon, Sir Herbert John Clifford Grierson - 1911 - 792 pages
...brother's soul was of that mould 140 Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side ; But why delay the truth 1 — he died. I saw, and could not hold his head, Nor reach his dying hand — nor dead, — Though...
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In Praise of Switzerland: Being the Alps in Prose and Verse

Harold Spender - 1912 - 316 pages
...The walls are white. (Byron's note). Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side. But...saw, and could not hold his head, Nor reach his dying hand—nor dead— Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, To rend and gnash my bonds in twain He...
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English history, poetry and prose. Western Europe

Delphian Society - 1913 - 566 pages
...; My brother's soul was of that mould Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side ; But...dying hand — nor dead — Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, To rend and gnash my bonds in twain. He died — and they unlock'd his chain, And...
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The Leading English Poets from Chaucer to Browning

Lucius Hudson Holt - 1915 - 952 pages
...brother's soul was of that mould 140 Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been but strove in vain, To rend and gnash my bonds in twain. He died — and they unlock'd his chaiu, And...
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