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" Were with his heart, and that was far away; He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother— he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman... "
Childe Harold's pilgrimage, a romaunt. Campe's ed - Page 225
by George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1831
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The Sphere and Duties of Woman: A Course of Lectures

George Washington Burnap - Women - 1848 - 326 pages
...all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday — All this rush'd with his blood — Shall he expire And unavenged? — Arise! yeGoths,andglutyourire!" The stage then, though comparatively an evil, and perhaps at this period of...
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The British orator

Thomas King Greenbank - 1849
...life he lost, nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday All this rush'd with his blood — Shall he expire, And unavenged ? — Arise ! ye Goths, and glut...
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The two creations: nature and art

Two creations - 1849
...• There was the Dacian mother — he their sire Butchered to make a Roman holiday ! All this rushed with his blood. Shall he expire? And unavenged ? Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire !" To the honour of the ancient Greeks they steadily refused, from motives of humanity, to...
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Vorlesungen über slawische Literatur und Zustände, Volumes 1-4

Adam Mickiewicz - Slavic literature - 1849
...the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their Sire, Butcher'd to made a Roman holiday — All this rush'd with his blood. 2Cd|)te SSorícfung. Sen 24. Sanuor 1843....
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A Hand-book for Travellers in Central Italy: Including the Papal States ...

John Murray (Firm), Octavian Blewitt - Italy - 1850 - 684 pages
...life he lost nor prize', But where his rude hut by the Danube lay. There were hie young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday. All this rush'd with his blood — shall he expire, And unavenged ? Arise, ye Goths, and glut your...
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The Standard elocutionist; and gem-book of British authors, ed. by A. Cunningham

A. Cunningham - 1850
...life he lost, nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay — There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday ! All this rush'd with his blood. — Shall he expire, And unaveng'd ? — Aris«, ye Goths, and glut...
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The literary class book; or, Readings in English literature

Robert Joseph Sullivan - 1850
...life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay ; There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday — All this rush'd with his blood — Shall he expire. And unaveng'd ? — Arise ! ye Goths, and glut...
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The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - American literature - 1850 - 365 pages
...There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday — All this rushed with his blood — Shall he expire And unavenged ? — Arise ! ye Goths, and glut your ire !" We are willing to admit that it is scarcely just to select a verse at random from the American,...
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The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - American literature - 1850 - 365 pages
...There was their Dacian mother — he, then- sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday — All this rushed with his blood — Shall he expire And unavenged ? — Arise ! ye Goths, and glut your ire !" We are willing to admit that it is scarcely just to select a verse at random from the American,...
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The Morning call, by mrs. Ellis, Volume 4; Volume 41

Morning call - 1850
...| But where his rude tent by the Danube lay, '/'/''.v, were his younp barbarians all at play, Tlmre was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday — All this rush'd with his blood — shall he expire And unavenged ? Arise ! ye Goths, and glut your...
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