 | Stephen Watkins Clark - English language - 1851 - 204 pages
...Old 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... | |
 | Caroline Matilda Kirkland - Courtesy - 1853 - 328 pages
...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 : and that it is therefore absurd to bewail the adding of a unit to the untold millions gone before.... | |
 | 1852 - 620 pages
...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 wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where... | |
 | Samuel Henry Dickson - Cognition - 1852 - 356 pages
...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... | |
 | Richard Green Parker - 1852 - 380 pages
...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. 8. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods... | |
 | John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell, Henry T. Steele - American periodicals - 1852 - 610 pages
...the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on Ihe 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 Ыымп. Take the wings Of morning, and the Marcan desert pierce, ° Or lose thyself in the continuous... | |
 | William Cullen Bryant - 1852 - 388 pages
...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 wings Of morning—and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous... | |
 | College students' writings, American - 1853 - 380 pages
...centuries. So stand the generations of men upon the burial places of other times, and heed it not. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. * * * * And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down... | |
 | William Holmes McGuffey - Elocution - 1853 - 492 pages
...infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still + lapse of ages. 6. All that tread The globe, are but a handful, to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Takeithe wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the "''continuous woods... | |
 | Poets, American - 1853 - 560 pages
...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 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. 
