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書籍 書目1 - 10,共 124 頁;搜尋條件:In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green ; and, poured...
" In majesty, and the complaining brooks 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,... "
A Compendium of English Literature: Chronologically Arranged, from Sir John ... - 第 380 頁
Charles Dexter Cleveland 著 - 1862 - 776 頁
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Specimens of the American Poets

Henry Roscoe - 1822 - 283 頁
...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....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...
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The Inquirer, 第 1 卷

1822
...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....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...
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The American First Class Book, Or, Exercises in Reading and Recitation, 第 4 冊

John Pierpont - 1823 - 480 頁
...great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, , Are ginning on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages....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...
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The United States Literary Gazette, 第 1 卷

1825
...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....a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. So -l..ni thou rest — and what if thou shall fall Unnoticed by the living — and no friend Take...
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Kettell, Samuel: Specimens of American Poetry...

1829
...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....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...
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The Edinburgh Literary Journal: Or, Weekly Register of Criticism and ..., 第 2 卷

1829
...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...That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the contiguous woods, Where rolls the Oregan, and...
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Sermons

Cornelius Roosevelt Duffie - 1829
...and ocean, all, Are the great tomb of man ; And all the planetary host of heaven Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages....a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. ——Millions — since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep."...
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The Edinburgh Literary Journal: Or, Weekly Register of Criticism and ..., 第 2 卷

1829
...planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still laps? of ages— all that tread The globe are but a handful...to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wingg Of momipg, and the Barcnn desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the contiguous woods, Where rolls...
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Studies in Poetry: Embracing Notices of the Lives and Writings of the Best ...

George Barrell Cheever - 1830 - 480 頁
...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....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...
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The Cambridge Book of Poetry and Song

Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - 882 頁
...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....woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there: And millions in those solitudes, since first The night...
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