 | William Cullen Bryant - 1852 - 388 páginas
...the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.—Take the wings Of morning—and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous... | |
 | John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell, Henry T. Steele - 1852 - 610 páginas
...the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on Ihe sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its Ыымп. Take the wings Of morning, and the Marcan desert pierce, ° Or lose thyself in the continuous... | |
 | 1852 - 628 páginas
...new,' sang thus to the deep music of hie own solemn harp : ' TÍKE the wings Of morning, and the Borcun desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods, Where rolls the Oregon, and hear» no sound Save his own doshinga.' Well, supposing you should take the wings of the morning and... | |
 | Fort Hill Cemetery Association - 1853 - 146 páginas
...The globe are but a handful tn the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings THE DEDICATION. Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose...; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flightof years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone. So shalt... | |
 | Elizabeth Nicholson - 1853 - 412 páginas
...of death Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribe, That slumber in its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning...in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and b,ears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet — the DEAD are there, And millions, in those solitudes,... | |
 | William Holmes McGuffey - 1853 - 492 páginas
...infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still + lapse of ages. 6. All that tread The globe, are but a handful, to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Takeithe wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the "''continuous woods... | |
 | Henry Harbaugh - 1853 - 410 páginas
...one-fifth as many as the present, there would have died in all twentyeight thousands of millions. Truly, " All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom." Considering that one-half of the race die in infancy, we have the number of fourteen thousands of millions... | |
 | 1853 - 380 páginas
...centuries. So stand the generations of men upon the burial places of other times, and heed it not. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. * * * * And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down... | |
 | Joseph Warren Fabens - 1853 - 264 páginas
...faint roar of a mighty ocean breaking on his ear, as he strays wonderingly downward towards the west, " in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings " — -words still poetic, and descriptive of what was once the fact, — or the weary and heart-sick... | |
 | 1853 - 420 páginas
...centuries. So stand the generations of men upon the burial places of other times, and heed it not. AU that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. * * * * And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down... | |
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Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread... 
