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" All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom... "
The Poets and Poetry of America - Страница 172
по Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1855 - 622 страници
Пълен достъп - Информация за книгата

Annual Meeting, Том 8

American Institute of Instruction - 1838
...immediately suggest that beautiful idea of him who stands at the head of the list of our native bards ; " All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom." The facility with which the pupil, after a little practice, with the aidjof models and suggestions...

The Young Lady's Reader

Louisa Caroline Tuthill - 1839 - 458 страници
...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...Save his own dashings ; yet — the dead are there, Anil millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their...

The American Common-place Book of Poetry, with Occasional Notes

1839 - 405 страници
...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...Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings; yet—the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began,...

The Poets of America, Том 1

John Keese - 1840 - 284 страници
...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...first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone. So shalt thou rest— and what if thou shalt fall...

The Poets of America, Illustrated by One of Her Painters

John Keese - 1840 - 284 страници
...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...first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone. So shall thou rest — and what if thou withdraw...

The American Orator's Own Book: A Manual of Extemporaneous Eloquence ...

1840 - 279 страници
...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...rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashing* ; yet — the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The night of years...

The Remembrancer, Or, Fragments for Leisure Hours

1841 - 216 страници
...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...continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sounds, Save his own dashings, yet the dead are there, And millions in these solitudes, since first...

Poems: By William Cullen Bryant

William Cullen Bryant - 1840 - 276 страници
...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...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, THANATOPSIS. 33 Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there ;...

Progressive Exercises in English Composition

Richard Green Parker - 1840 - 125 страници
...handful, and slumber, immediately suggest a figurative expression like that beautiful one of Bryant, " All that tread " The globe are but a handful to the tribes " That slumber in its bosom." The facility with which the pupil, after a little practice, with the aid of models and suggestions...

The American Common-place Book of Poetry: With Occasional Notes

George Barrell Cheever - 1841 - 405 страници
...the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the slill lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the...its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan deserl pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,...




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