 | Salem Town - 1847 - 420 Seiten
...'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. All that tread The...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... | |
 | William Cullen Bryant - 1847 - 520 Seiten
...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. All that tread The...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... | |
 | William Harvey Wells - 1847 - 228 Seiten
...counsels to nought." — Bancroft. " Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God." — Coleridge. " Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings." — Bryant. " The oak Shall send his roots abroad and pierce thy mould." — Ibid. " A nd see where... | |
 | 1848 - 272 Seiten
...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 — all that tread...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 Seiten
...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. All that tread The...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... | |
 | 1848 - 272 Seiten
...but a handful to the tribes That slumber 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 Save its own dashings ; yet the dead are there. And millions in those solitudes, since... | |
 | 1849 - 472 Seiten
...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. All that tread 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... | |
 | William Cullen Bryant - 1847 - 390 Seiten
...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... | |
 | 1850 - 264 Seiten
...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. All that tread 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... | |
 | Truman Rickard, Hiram Orcutt - 1850 - 130 Seiten
...golden sun, 45 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...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... | |
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That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn 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... 
