 | Samuel Kettell - 1829 - 432 pągines
...of heaven, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread Are shining on the sad abodes of death, 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... | |
 | George Barrell Cheever - 1830 - 516 pągines
...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...its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no... | |
 | 1832 - 598 pągines
...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...slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no... | |
 | Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - 1022 pągines
...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...slumber In its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning, traverse Barca's desert sands, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and... | |
 | Robert Walsh, Eliakim Littell, John Jay Smith - 1832 - 648 pągines
...sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death Through ihe still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are...to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the winfs Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls... | |
 | Sidney Willard - 1832 - 560 pągines
...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." pp. 25, 26. The subject is a favorite one. The " Death of the Flowers" is the sweetest dirge we remember,... | |
 | 1832 - 606 pągines
...of man ! The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite hosl of heaven, Are shining on Ihe sad ahodes of death Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The glohe are hut a handful to the trihes That slumher in its hosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the... | |
 | Bela Bates Edwards - 1833 - 892 pągines
...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...its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods "Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no... | |
 | 1834 - 402 pągines
...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...slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no... | |
 | 1834 - 406 pągines
...great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the ad abodes of death, • Through the still lapse of ages....bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barean desert pieree ; Or lose thyself in the eontinuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his... | |
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All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. 
