 | Salem Town - 1848 - 300 pàgines
...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...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... | |
 | 1848 - 272 pàgines
...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...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... | |
 | 1848 - 276 pàgines
...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... | |
 | 1849 - 472 pàgines
...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...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... | |
 | William Russell - 1849 - 310 pàgines
...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...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... | |
 | William Russell - 1849 - 320 pàgines
...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...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... | |
 | William Cullen Bryant - 1847 - 390 pàgines
...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 — and the Barcan desert pierce, ^ Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no... | |
 | 1850 - 264 pàgines
...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...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... | |
 | Truman Rickard, Hiram Orcutt - 1850 - 130 pàgines
...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 50 Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the... | |
 | George Burgess - 1850 - 348 pàgines
...population in all the past; and the mind will grasp the superior number of the dead beyond the living. " All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom." The surface of the earth, so far as it is dry land, is estimated at nearly forty millions of square... | |
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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 The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. 
