 | 1910 - 490 pages
...wayfarer once Planted his footstep — the spray Boils o'er its borders! aloft The unseen snow-beds dislodge Their hanging ruin; alas, Havoc is made in...foreheads, with lips Sternly compress'd, we strain on, Come to the end of our way, To the lonely inn 'mid the rocks; Where the gaunt and taciturn host Stands... | |
 | Matthew Arnold - 1911 - 138 pages
...the spray Boils o'er its borders; aloft, The unseen snow-beds dislodge Their hanging ruin. Alas! 100 Havoc is made in our train! Friends who set forth...only are left! With frowning foreheads, with lips 105 Sternly compressed, we strain on, On — and at nightfall at last Come to the end of our way, To... | |
 | Edith Henrietta Fowler - 1912 - 732 pages
...crashes from rock To rock, the cataracts reply ; Lightnings dazzle our eyes : Alas. Havoc is made iu our train ! Friends, who set forth at our side. Falter,...left ! — With frowning foreheads, with lips Sternly compressed, we strain on, On — and at nightfall at last Come to the end of our way, To the lonely... | |
 | Hugo Gutsche - 1914 - 178 pages
...footstep — the spray Boils o'er its borders; aloft, The unseen snow-beds dislodge Their hanging ruins ; alas, Havoc is made in our train! Friends who set...end of our way. To the lonely inn 'mid the rocks; Where the gaunt and taciturn host Stands on the threshold, the wind Shaking his thin white hairs —... | |
 | Lucius Hudson Holt - 1915 - 956 pages
...the spray Boils o'er its borders ; aloft, The unseen snow-beds dislodge Their hanging ruin. Alas! roo H 2 compressed, we strain on, On; and at nightfall at last Come to the end of our way, To the lonely inn... | |
 | Lucius Hudson Holt - 1915 - 952 pages
...the spray Boils o'er its borders ; aloft, The unseen snow-beds dislodge Their hanging ruin. Alas! i<x ffectation, with a sickly mien, Shows in her cheek...eighteen, Practis'd to lisp, and hang the head as I With frowning foreheads, with lips Sternly compressed, we strain on, On; and at nightfall at last... | |
 | Franklyn Bliss Snyder, Robert Grant Martin - 1916 - 924 pages
...the spray Boils o'er its borders! aloft The unseen snow-beds dislodge Their hanging ruin! alas, 100 8 - 105 On — and at nightfall at last Come to the end of our way, To the lonely inn 'mid the rocks; Where... | |
 | Franklyn Bliss Snyder, Robert Grant Martin - 1916 - 964 pages
...the spray Boils o'er its borders! aloft The unseen snow-beds dislodge Their hanging ruin! alas, 100 ar b arc left! With frowning foreheads, with lips 105 Sternly compressed, we strain on, On — and at nightfall... | |
 | Thomas Humphry Ward - 1917 - 856 pages
...wayfarer once Planted his footstep— the spray Boils o'er its borders ! aloft The unseen snow-beds dislodge Their hanging ruin ; alas, Havoc is made...the end of our way, To the lonely inn 'mid the rocks ; Where the gaunt and taciturn host Stands on the threshold, the wind Shaking his thin white hairs... | |
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Havoc is made in our train! Friends, who set forth at our side, Falter, are lost in the storm. We, we only are left! 
