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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

The Fourth Reader, Or, Exercises in Reading and Speaking: Designed for the ...

Salem Town - 1847 - 408 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 tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wmgs Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls...

Town's Third Reader: Containing a Selection of Lessons, Exclusively from ...

Salem Town - 1848 - 288 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...

Beauties of Sacred Literature: Illustrated by Eight Steel Engravings

1848 - 220 страници
...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...in its bosom — take the wings Of morning, and the Barean desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hear no sounds...

Beauties of Sacred Literature: Illustrated by Eight Steel Engravings

1848 - 220 страници
...pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hear no sounds Save its own dashings ; yet the dead are there. And millions...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...

Gems of Poetry, from Forty-eight American Poets: Embracing the Most Popular ...

1848 - 252 страници
...the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, 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, have laid them down In their last sleep—the dead reign there alone. So shalt thou rest—and what if thou shalt fall...

Orthophony; Or The Cultivation of the Voice in Elocution: A Manual of ...

William Russell - 1849 - 294 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." HI. — Reverence, and Adoration.1 1. — [FROM...

Orthopony; Or the Cultivation of the Voice, in Elocution: A Manual of ...

William Russell - 1849
...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." m. — Reverence, and Adoration.i 1. — [FROM...

The Metropolitan, Том 56

1849
...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, Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there : And millions in...

Poems

William Cullen Bryant - 1847 - 378 страници
...lapse of ages. All that tread s ty~^ cvv S The globe are but a handful to the tribes ' c " ? J1 ^ C. That slumber in its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there : And millions in...

GEMS OF POETRY, FROM FORTY-EIGHT AMERICAN POETS.

1850
...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, Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there, And millions in those...




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