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Banished from their native soil, and persecuted through all continental kingdoms, the Polish Wanderers, seeking refuge on the shores of Britain, have been received with a generous hospitality, which has alleviated their undeserved misfortunes. Gratitude for this benevolence towards my unhappy brethren, and the desire of keeping alive feelings of compassion for the fate of my suffering country, have induced me to write the following pages, which I respectfully dedicate to the noble-minded and generous inhabitants of Britain, to whom I submit them, in the intimate conviction, that their sympathy for our past and present sufferings will not cease until their energetic assistance shall have enabled us to recover our native country.
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THE DOWNFALL OF POLAND.
Schwartz, C. V. „A sketch of the history of Poland”
Copyright © by Schwartz, C. V., 1842
Copyright © by Wydawnictwo Psychoskok Sp. z o.o. 2020
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Text is from public domain.
Typesetting: Adam Brychcy
Cover design: Adam Brychcy
Print: W. L. Anczyc i Spółka
Publishing house: London : R. Macdonald
London, 1842
ISBN: 978-83-8119-682-6
Wydawnictwo Psychoskok Sp. z o.o.
ul. Spółdzielców 3, pok. 325, 62-510 Konin
tel. (63) 242 02 02, kom. 695-943-706
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A SKETCH
OF THE
HISTORY OF POLAND.
By C. V. SCHWARTZ, M. D.
OF THE POLISH EMIGRATION.
“Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me; wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger.”
Lamentations of Jerusalem, i., 12.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR,
BY R. MACDONALD, GREAT SUTTON STREET, CLEItKENWELL.
1842.
THE DOWNFALL OF POLAND.
My brothers have fled, or in battle they fell,—Or in dungeons they pine, for they love thee too well,And far must I wander—an exile from thee —For thou art no longer a refuge for me.
Oh Poland! my country, the fond heart will breakOf him who has suffered and bled for thy sake,—Oh! why have I lived the sad moment to seeWhen thou art no longer a refuge for me?