 | George Burgess - 1850 - 362 pàgines
...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... | |
 | George Burgess - 1850 - 340 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... | |
 | Salem Town - 1851 - 422 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... | |
 | Henry Bartlett Maglathlin - 1851 - 328 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... | |
 | Stephen Watkins Clark - 1851 - 204 pàgines
...ocean's gray and melancholy waste, Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. All that breathe Will share thy destiny. As the long train Of ages glide away, the sons of men, The... | |
 | William Cullen Bryant - 1851 - 380 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. -J-Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, • Or lose thyself in the continuous... | |
 | 1851 - 396 pàgines
...are few compared with those who are dead. See how different it sounds in the words of Bryant : "All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom." 2. The ground was covered with snow. (Wrapped, mantle.) 3. In spring the leaves cover the trees with... | |
 | 1852 - 620 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 Oregan, and hears no... | |
 | Samuel Henry Dickson - 1852 - 356 pàgines
...itself, in its whole habitable surface, is little else than the mighty sepulchre of the past ; and " All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the winga Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls... | |
 | Richard Green Parker - 1852 - 380 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. 8. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods... | |
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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. 
